a/n: Do people still even do author's notes in here? Anyway, hey guys! I'm back on my bullshit with this site. I haven't been here in forever and I recently picked up this story again. Since it's published in AO3 I thought I'd bring it over here as well. I started writing in 2016 (procrastination at its finest) so of course there might be some inconsistencies.

But okay, hope you enjoy! Comments and feedback are appreciated!

Nathanael Kurtzberg was used to pass unnoticed. It's not that he couldn't stand out- as matter of fact, you could spot his red hair miles into the distance. It's just simply that he was not the type of person that got recognized a lot, but he was okay with that. Unlike the rest of his classmates, there really wasn't something characteristic about him. He wasn't smart like Max, or athletic like Kim. He lacked the brawl of Ivan, the suave demeanor of Nino, and the annoying perfection of Adrien. Sure, he got labeled into the artsy type along with Juleka, Mylene, and Marinette, but that hardly did anything for him. The only highlight of his creative career so far was that he got akumatized into an evil designer, and then again his entire class had been akumatized before, so by the time it was his turn they hardly batted an eye.

He sighed. Yeah, he was okay with that. To be frank, the idea of being surrounded by people twenty four hours a day, the seven days of the week like Adrien, Chlóe, or Alya, exhausted him. He enjoyed his anonymity. Though that didn't mean he didn't feel a little bit sorry for himself when his classmates forgot his birthday. Again.

Sixteen years and he was sure the chewing gum underneath his desk had gotten more recognition than he'd ever get in his life. Eh, well. No point getting worked up over that, he didn't want to give Hawkmoth the wrong idea.

Speaking of which, he decided to entertain himself drawing a little sketch of the latest akuma Ladybug and Chat Noir had defeated to pass the time. He witnessed the fight on television. As usual, Ladybug and Chat Noir worked seamlessly to defeat the akuma. Like a well-oiled clock. The fight hardly lasted more than ten minutes.

The victim called herself Mad Hatter, but really, she was a seamstress that had been laid off from one of Paris' biggest clothing brands, was a single mom, and had three kids in private school. Like every victim before her, she got her little note and profile on the seven p.m news.

Having been akumatized himself before, he couldn't help but feel for her. Before he fell prey to Paris' villain, he often looked down on those people that got akumatized before him. Ivan, for example. He was the first. He couldn't fathom how anyone could lose control of their emotions so bad that they were left at the mercy of some power-drunken man hidden behind a mask. Before it happened to him, Nath took pride in his ability to maintain his cool.

Then lo and behold, years of bearing Chlóe Bourgeois' teasing just like every other living soul, and how did he get akumatized? Over a crush. For Marinette. Granted, it was more complicated than that, and Chloé definitely had to do with it, but the thing that annoyed him the most was that he lost his control over something silly like a crush.

Remembering the face of everyone that day still made him burn with shame.

Stupid, so stupid.

Stop, he warned himself. You don't want to get too mad at yourself.

Ever since his akumatization he had been weary of his own feelings, he felt like he could no longer trust himself. Crippled, blindsided, altogether awful -but not too awful or else Hawkmoth could attack again-. The only thing that helped him sleep at night was the logic that everyone got mad, sad, and heartbroken. Everyone, including Ladybug and Chat Noir, and they never had been akumatized before. Besides, who's not to say that people who got akumatized before could get angry again? Not only it was probable, it was pretty damn certain, he was sure. So far no victim had ever fallen prey again, so maybe Hawkmoth's whole deal was like the chickenpox. You catch it once and then you become immune. He hoped so, but that didn't mean he was willing to test the theory. He'd never forgive himself if he ever put people in danger again simply because he couldn't hold his head together over a petty, spoiled brat such as Chloé Bourgeois.

He sighed wistfully as he sharpened the lines of Ladybug's figure. What made a superhero? What made those two special and why had they never gotten akumatized before? Maybe the Miraculous made them immune and that's why Hawkmoth wanted them. Or maybe the fact that nothing made them tick was the reason why they were superheroes in the first place. Either way, whatever they had, he wished he had been born with it, too. That luck to be picked, to be singled out and have someone approach him and say: you are special, you belong to something bigger than you.

After finishing touching up the spots on Ladybug's suit he moved onto Chat Noir and focused on his trademark cocky grin. He chuckled as he reflected on him. That guy was the embodiment of irony in so many ways and levels. First, the whole black cat theme. Yes, he could see it. There has to be a Ying for every Yang, if ladybugs were omens of good luck it only made sense that Ladybug's partner would be a black cat. But unlucky? Chat Noir could be many things, unlucky was not one of them. He was probably the luckiest guy in all of Paris- in all the world. Who else got to be a superhero? No one. The only bad luck that guy could ever have was that Ladybug seemed to be bent on keeping him chained to the friend zone. Boo hoo, what a nightmare.

Content with his work, he blew on the page and gently brushed it to get rid of the eraser exhaust that clung to the paper and added a little note:

Francine Gauthier. 36. Three kids ages 6, 11, and 13. Lost her job.

Another one to the collection. Ever since he was akumatized he started a little project. He drew a portrait of the akuma attack, then one of the person, and wrote why they were akumatized. He had this idea of buying some spray paint, sneak out at night, and make a mural in their honor- except himself, of course. That'd be too self-absorbed.

He felt like he owed it to these people, not only because he had been a brat about akuma victims before but also because now that he was on the other side of the fence he felt like they needed some recognition. These people were not villains, they weren't their demons. They were hurting, that was the reason why they got akumatized in the first place. And how were they remembered? As monsters, as less than human. That really bothered him. These were victims, people who had feelings, and fears, and hopes, and the ability to be good despite themselves. He firmly believed this. And If the people that surrounded them- most were in his class, anyway- were anything like the people that surrounded him, he was sure there was always that one jerk that simply wouldn't let it go. In his case it was Chloé and her minion, Sabrina, who kept poking fun at everyone, never minding the fact that they had been akumatized before, too.

Pair of idiots, those two.

Once a monster always a monster. That's what Chloé said, and it made his blood boil.

It's not true. They're not monsters. I'm not a monster.

"So, does anyone have examples of canines? Perhaps mister Kurtzberg who is too busy to grant us an hour of his time?"

He was too busy scribbling down his calculations for the mural. He found a perfect empty wall the other day, the back of an abandoned warehouse. He took the measurements last week.

"Mister Kurtzberg?"

Geez. He pouted at the result for the number of cans. That was a lot of paint.

"Nathanaël!"

He looked up with a gasp, causing a bit of bubbly giggling among his peers. What? What did she ask? Answer. To what? What class was this anyway? He looked at the board, then at his desk. Biology. Mammals. A presentation about the family of Canines. Think fast. Think fast!

"Uh… dogs, wolves, foxes… That's all I got."

The teacher squinted at him, evidently irritated that despite his distraction he was able to fend off. She walked over to his desk but before she was able to see what he was really doing, he inconspicuously pulled his notes from last class on top of his drawings. Being busted by Mrs. Mendeliev way too many times taught him to react fast.

"You should keep your desk more orderly, this isn't college anymore, Mister Kurtzberg."

The bell rang.

"He was probably doodling those horrible drawings again," Chloé sourly commented as he darted to the door.

"Shut up, Chloé," he snapped at her.

"What did you just say to me?" she hissed.

Don't give her your time of the day.

The uncomfortable whispering of his classmates didn't escape him, nor the fact that Marinette, Alya, Nino, and Agreste- the only ones who usually stood up against her, quickly glanced at the exchange.

"What you heard," he said clearly. He adjusted the band of his messenger bag to his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to my locker."

He side stepped her and walked with an unmoved, dignified expression.

Chlóe scoffed. "Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm talking to you!"

He turned swiftly. "And I'm ignoring you. Get over it."

With more satisfaction that he was willing to admit, he left the room, able to catch the "Duuuuuude, respect," that came from Nino.

Breathe. Breathe. Argh!

He slammed his locker door after dropping his Biology book and picking up Chemistry. He was so annoyed he almost missed Marinette standing right beside him.

"Hello, Nath."

He yelped in surprise. "Marinette!"

"Sorry!" She blushed. "I didn't mean to startle you. I just- I didn't think- Sorry!"

He chuckled, warmed by Marinette's adorable flustering. "It's okay," he said.

"Are you okay? I saw you were a bit angry at Chloé."

He gave her a complicity glance. "One does not simply get 'a bit angry' at Chloé."

"Fair point. You okay though?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Beaming at him, she produced a medium white box engraved with gold initials that no doubt belonged to her family's bakery. "I brought you something, since it's your birthday and all."

"Oh. You remembered! Thank you, Marinette."

"It's kind of hard not to," she said, laughing sheepishly.

"Don't worry, I won't try to kidnap you this time around." He meant it as a joke, hopefully credible enough to hide the guilt he felt. Even Marinette remembered him for his akuma, nothing else.

"I'm glad." She sighed, exaggerating her relief. "Try having Chat Noir as your bodyguard."

"I'm pretty sure that would be the highlight of my life, to be honest."

Marinette laughed out loud. Nath didn't know half of it. "Ah, you say that because he's never been your bodyguard."

"Too flirty for you or what?"

She laughed again and shrugged silently to give him the benefit of doubt. "I'm just going to say I understand Ladybug a little bit better now. So you have plans for today?" Marinette asked to make sure he wouldn't spend his day alone. What really made her feel bad about Nath when he got akumatized wasn't precisely the akumatization itself, rather than he didn't really have anyone to spend his birthday with. No one should be alone in their birthday. Not if she could help it, at least.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm going to the ice cream parlor and then to that vintage arcade they opened next to it with Juleka and Rose. You and Alya are welcome to come by if you want."

The bell rang, announcing Chemistry Lab and Music Workshop was beginning for the tenth grade. Marinette hitched her bag over her shoulder and smiled. "I'll tell her about it. See you later!"

Nathanaël waved her goodbye quite proud with the way things resulted and marched merrily to the lab, unaware of the steely glare Adrien Agreste threw at him as he passed in front of him an Nino.

Adrien and Nino had been within hearing range and for a reason he couldn't quite describe, Adrien was annoyed out of his wits.

No. Actually, he could pinpoint it. Marinette just more or less implied that he was annoying. Well, technically Chat Noir, but he'd be damned if he wasn't his truest when he talked with Marinette as Chat Noir. It shouldn't bother him. Really, it shouldn't. But he felt like he could Cataclysm the entire school right now.

"You okay dude?" Nino asked before they parted ways for their lessons.

"Huh?"

"You looked like you wanted to shove Nath off the Eiffel Tower."

It actually didn't sound like a bad idea.

He swallowed his rage and forced a smile. "What? No, ha, ha. I just remembered I didn't finish my lab report. Come on, we should get to class."

He lied. Through and through, he lied. But he couldn't admit to Nino's face that the fact Marinette payed attention to Nathanaël the way she usually paid attention to him made his stomach boil with acidic envy. Not only that, but he literally had no reason to feel this way.

She probably didn't mean anything by it, he reasoned. Marinette was a nice girl. The kind of girl that gives everyone a birthday gift. Then again, he didn't recall her congratulating him on his birthday.

He sighed. She probably still hates me about that stupid gum on her chair.

Well that was an exaggeration. Marinette wasn't the type of person that held grudges- not for too long, anyway. And she had invited him to her house a couple times, for school reasons, but still. She had never invited other boys to her house. Or at least not that he knew of… And she gave him that charm, she never gave one of those to anyone else.

Really, there was no reason to feel jealous. He wasn't even in love with her. But he could not help himself. Especially because he heard from Nino, who heard from Alya, who went with Marinette, that they actually went to the ice cream parlor with Nath and the girls. He also heard from Nino, who hangs out with Kim, who is friends with Max, who talks to Nathanaël, that he had invited Marinette and Alya to the movies. Now, Adrien, despite his inexperience with girls, was not dumb. He knew exactly what Nathanaël was doing. He was courting one of them. And he knew for a fact it couldn't be Alya. Nino told him they kissed like three months ago and ever since then they've been hanging out together. So he just invited Alya to look aloof.

Ever since their movie date, Alya, Marinette, and Nathanaël- but mostly Marinette and Nathanaël- had been more chatty around each other. Turns out they actually did have a few things in common. Both were artists. Both liked Jagged Stone. Both were big fans of Chat Noir -even though Marinette would always poke fun at him. Both liked zombie movies. Both played Mega Strike III.

He saw in red. And not because of Ladybug. Nathanaël was stealing his friend!

"Mr. Agreste, where is your partner?" The Chemistry lab teacher, Mr. Morin asked him.

"Alya is sick," he told his teacher. "She didn't come to school today."

Mr. Morin nodded. "Very well. You may work with Mr. Kurtzberg today. His partner is also absent."

He felt his blood boil.

"I-I can work alone, Mr. Morin. There's no need, really. I'm very familiar with pH measuring."

"Today we'll be working with water buffers. Please join Nathanaël, Adrien."

Reluctantly, he picked up his things and walked to the table in the front, where Nathanaël was. He nodded at him in recognition, and Adrien reciprocated. Both took notes silently as their instructor went over the concept of water buffers. He noted down a few formulas they would need to calculate acid percentages, and after giving them the worksheets they would be using, Mr. Morin left the students to their devices.

"I'll go for the materials," Adrien said, trying to sound as civil as he could, and marched to the back of the classroom.

Nathanaël dutifully helped him to mount the universal support with the beakers and Erlenmeyer flasks they needed. To be frank, Nath didn't have a clue of what they were supposed to be doing, but he'd be damned if he let himself look stupid in front of this straight-A nerd.

Once they set up the experiment, there wasn't much left to do but to adjust the valve and count the drops of buffer until the water changed color.

They had two hours to kill.

Adrien found himself wishing for an akuma or some type of disaster to excuse himself. As for Nathanaël, the water drop was falling too slowly for his taste, so he reached the valve and turned it so it would drop at a faster pace.

"No! What are you doing?" Adrien immediately reproached. "You have to count them!" He returned the valve to its slow, steady dripping.

Nath sighed. "It's taking forever. Plus I did count."

"Oh yeah? How many droplets fell?"

"Eighteen."

"Well, I counted fifteen."

"So?"

"So we have to redo the experiment."

"What?" Nath said with disbelief. "No, we don't. Trust me. I counted."

"You won't know for sure. It's called scientific rigor."

Nath glared deadpan at Adrien. "We're not going to repeat it, dude. We only have like forty five minutes left."

"But the result will be wrong," he insisted.

"Let's just make an average."

"You can't just make an average!" he said, insulted. "You need to be sure."

"It's just an experiment, Agreste. Not a freaking atomic bomb."

"You pair of idiots do realize your water changed like, five minutes ago, right?" Alix interrupted.

She had to bite back a snort at Adrien's outraged expression. It's been two years since he started going to public school. How many times had he failed lab before? Zero. Never. None. His report card was a spotless one hundred over one hundred.

"You ruined it," he said.

Nath cursed under his breath. If there was a god, he knew he couldn't afford to keep failing his science subjects.

"We can make up a result," he suggested.

Adrien's eyes were so wide Nathanaël swore they were going to pop out of their sockets.

"Yeah, we can," he insisted, pushing Adrien away from their log book. "We just need to calculate drops per minute. Last time we had count there were three hundred seventy two drops. Plus five minutes of dripping… three hundred ninety six."

"You can't do that! That's not how it's supposed to be," Adrien scolded.

"Well, what do you suggest, Einstein?"

"We'll just tell the truth to Mr. Morin and hopefully he'll let us try again."

"Yeah, of course. You go ahead and try that…"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not saying you're gullible, but..."

"Well, I may be gullible but it's better than straight up lying!"

"Lying about what?" Mr. Morin had come back from the small office at the front of the room.

Adrien gulped and stared wide eyed at his teacher. "He-I…" He gulped. "Nathanaël and I lost count of the droplets and he was suggesting we extrapolate with the last count we had but I told him that's not okay."

Nathanaël glared at him.

"Forgery?" Mr. Morin asked Nathanaël with a quizzical eyebrow, who was as red as his hair in that moment.

"It's- it's not forgery," Nathanaël defended. "Just because we don't have the precise count doesn't mean we didn't learn how to do the process!" Well, Agreste did. He still didn't know what water buffers were good for. But the fuchsia of the water was a pretty shade, if he did say so himself.

Mr. Morin looked from one student to the other, well aware their irritation did have nothing to do with a failed science experiment. He had been working with teenagers long enough to know these two were rivals of sorts. Just like that Dupain girl and the Mayor's daughter.

"You can't expect to get perfect results all the time in science, Adrien," he started. "Sometimes you need to make do with what you have. Remember this is a creative activity despite the methodology."

He twisted his mouth into a pout but nodded.

"But rigor is also important," he told Nathanaël. "You can't find a clever way out of everything, Nathanaël. Sometimes you just have to follow the rules."

"So… you'll let us keep the results?" Adrien asked.

"I'll grade you over a maximum of seventy."

Heck, so long as it wasn't a fifty Nath was good with it. Adrien had a word or two to say about it, though.

"But why?" he asked. "You just said we both were right."

"Yes, but what good is that to me if you don't know how to work in a team?"

Work in a team? Work in a team? He was Chat Noir, for all that's holy! If there was anyone in Paris who knew how to "work in a team" that was him! That stubborn ginger! If he just had listened to him none this wouldn't have happened.

The bell rung to mark the end of the school day.

After discharging his anger on the poor glassware, Adrien marched out of the lab to meet with Nino, who coincidentally was walking with Marinette. She turned bright red as soon as he approached them and met him with an almost inaudible "Hi, Adrien."

"Woah dude, what happened?"

"What?" He didn't even notice he was frowning.

Nino quirked an eyebrow at him as Nathanaël passed by them and Adrien glared at him like he was Hawkmoth. "Yo, you got beef with Nath or something?"

"Why would I?" Adrien said, procuring a healthy dose of sarcasm. "It's not like he made me ruin my Chemistry score or anything."

Nino snorted. "Dude. It's just a lab."

He knew that. Adrien was aware, and he also knew he was behaving childishly. But something about Nathanaël's non-assuming demeanor just pushed his buttons. He needed someone to slap him across the face with the definition of responsibility. Hard.

"It's not that," Adrien said. "It's just that if he just had listened to me, we wouldn't have failed. He would have had the score he needed and mine would've still be fine. But no. No. He just couldn't follow the rules."

Nino shrugged not paying attention to the blonde's tantrum and slung an arm around him. "Relax, man. It's not the end of the world. Here, how about you, Mari, and I go grab a smoothie? Come on, stop frowning or your model baby face will get wrinkles."

Marinette looked at Nino with a wide, yet terrified smile when Adrien wasn't looking. He winked at her. Yep, you owe me, Mari.

It had taken him a few more days than he anticipated but he finally went through it. Friday on his way back home from school, Nathanaël stopped by a hardware shop and bought eight hundred euros worth of spray paint. He had four new akuma victim additions ever since Francine. If he worked four hours every night nonstop, the mural should be done in a couple of days. He hid his materials in the basement, which was so dreadfully spooky and leaky no tenant ever went down there unless absolutely necessary.

The smell of homemade ratatouille hugged his nose as he opened the door to the tiny apartment he lived in with his mother and his older brother.

"Bonsoir, mon petit chiot!" He heard his mother call him from the kitchen. He went to greet her with a kiss. She still hadn't changed from her work clothes and looked even more tired than when she left home that morning. Nonetheless, Sylvie met her son with a bright smile, it contrasted the heavy bags under her eyes.

"Bonsoir maman."

"How was school today?"

Nathanaël exhaled, feeling the stress of riding the metro at peak hour finally slide off his shoulders as he slumped down on a chair by the counter. "Same old. Kinda got into an argument."

The red-haired woman quirked an eyebrow at her son as she skillfully stirred the sizzling food on the pan. "Well, that's a first. Should I be worried?" Sylvie knew it wasn't like Nath to lose his temper, let alone get in a fight with someone.

"No, it's just this freaking kid, Adrien Agreste."

"That model boy?"

He nodded. "He was my lab partner today and he was being paranoid, is all. He just got the best of me."

Sylvie smiled at her boy and ruffled his hair as she set dinner in front of him. "Just remember kindness is always the best policy."

He nodded, trying to bite off a growl. "Is Rémy home yet?"

"He'll be home late. He has a project to turn in tomorrow."

Nath nodded. He was hoping Rémy would be home. His brother was the only one who knew about his mural project- he told Rèmy everything, even about his crush for Marinette- and he was more excited about it than Nathanaël himself. Not to mention he promised to cover for him, which got him second-guessing about whether or not it was a good idea to begin the mural today.

After dinner he excused himself to his room to reluctantly work on his homework. It couldn't have been more than an hour when his mother got a phone call. She sounded stressed.

"What?" she exclaimed. "No, no! She ordered tulips, not geraniums! Of course not, that messes up the entire decoration." She sighed. "The cake what? No, call the bakery they couldn't just- ugh. No, you know what. I'm on my way. Don't worry, we can handle this."

She hung up.

Nathanaël's mother was in the event planning business. Ever since she was hired to plan a gala at the Grand Hotel du Paris, she had more work than ever. It was a good thing by all means, Nath's family wasn't exactly poor but a few more euro to help Rèmy with university never hurt. Unfortunately, this also meant Nath spent more and more time alone.

"Baby, I have to go fix a few things for tomorrow's wedding," Sylvie said, poking her head into Nathanaël's room.

Nath nodded. "Okay, maman."

"Don't wait up for me, okay? I'll send you a message."

"Be safe."

He heard her grab her trench coat, put on her heels again, and close the door. Then, a silence so clear you could hear a pin drop. It had been this way ever since dad left. His voice used to fill up the entire apartment with laughter and jokes, he'd always have a witty prank to pull on Nath and Rèmy. He said his house did not tolerate boring sticks in the mud. Which was probably why he left. He got bored of them, they weren't good enough. Because one day, Nath came home to find his side of his parents' drawers completely empty.

Mr. Kurtzberg called from time to time, Christmas, birthdays, and such. But Nath didn't care for pity calls, he was still angry at him. Last time he saw him, he was walking with a woman much younger than his mom, pushing a stroller. As far as he was concerned, he had no father.

He sighed and spun around in his desk chair, making a blur of his otherwise familiar room to try and distract himself from bad thoughts.

Like every other teenager, Nathanaël found safety in his room and over the years he had turned it into quite the physical expression of himself. The walls didn't stay the same colors for too long. Right now he was going through a Van Gogh appreciation phase, and he tried his hand at making a painting of the Seine at night mimicking his style.

He had all kinds of small sculptures, clay figures, and chiseled marble that cluttered his desk. One of the walls was completely plastered with sketches of people, things, and places Nathanaël found exceptional. No piece of furniture was exempt of acrylic paint stains, and his shelf stacked collections of used sketchpads, paint veils and cases, brushes, sponges, and other materials.

His eyes fixed on the sketch wall, onto his collection of akuma victims. He looked at the space-themed clock hung next to his window. Eight fifteen. If he was going to do it, he better do it now.

He grabbed a black hoodie, his painting backpack, and snuck out of the house into the chilly March night. The warehouse was a short fifteen minute walk away from his house but Nathanaël was wary. This part of town wasn't especially pleasant. No thug in his right mind tried to get away with crime at night ever since Ladybug and Chat Noir started defending Paris. It was well known they patrolled practically every night like hawks hunting prey, but that didn't mean there wasn't one or two dimwits that didn't get the memo. That or feral dogs, which were quite common around abandoned warehouses like the one Nath was headed to. They hunted in packs, and having come across them a couple times when he was younger, Nath had no intention of staying if there were any lurking around the mural. He fought his nerves, however, and arrived to the warehouse in one piece.

The far amber glow of the active factories and warehouses in the vicinity helped Nath get a clear sense of where everything was. One thing was to come by during the day and another very different was to try and mix the colors right under amber light.

He produced the spray cans and the drawing guide he made for the mural, then resolved to start sketching the bottom part. He still did not know how he'd get to the top of the wall, but he tried not to think too much about the prospect of having to climb.

He studied the empty wall, placing a hand on the chipped surface and sighed. He shook the paint and inhaled.

"Hope I don't fuck it up."

His first strokes were shaky, unsure. He kept glancing back thinking that someone was watching him, but he never found anything.

The first two hours passed and he had successfully finished the base of the piece's bottom, when he felt something that made him jump and curse at the top of his lungs. He stumbled back over a dense, muscular bulk. A curious stray dog with brown patches of fur large enough to rip off his face, that sniffed around his bag and onto the wall. Nathanaël gulped.

"Sh-shoo! Go away."

The dog fixed his eyes on him and cocked his head before sniffing him.

"No, go. Go! I don't want to be your friend."

The dog breathed through his mouth, giving the impression he was smiling at Nath as he waved his tail.

"Go!" He shook his hands at him, hoping to scare him off or startle him, but the dog thought he was playing so he ran about looking for whatever thing he thought Nath had thrown.

Nathanaël gulped, glad that he seemed like he had no interest in coming back. He stood up and continued his work unperturbed until he reached for a new can of paint and found that it was all drooled over. The mongrel was licking them like popsickles.

"No, what are you doing?" Nath shouted. "Stop, you stupid dog!"

Unfortunately, the dog mistook his anger for playtime again, and snatched Nath's bag.

"Gimme that!" he chased him around. "Ugh, come back! No!"

Nath tripped and saw how the dog ran away into the shadows. Growling and with sore knees, he sat up.

"I can't believe a dog just stole all my savings," he muttered to himself, feeling pathetic. He turned to the mural and let go a defeated sigh. "At least I tired."

Again, the sensation that someone was watching tickled the hairs on the back of his neck, only this time it wasn't a hunch. A figure stood among the shadows, precisely in the direction where the dog had ran. From where Nathanaël stood, it looked small and had a cane.

He stayed frozen on the spot, not daring to breathe. He could feel his heart trying to break free from his rib cage and a cold sweat dampened his temples. He couldn't decide what was worse: that it might be an akuma or that it might be a serial killer.

The second the figure began approaching him he scrambled to his feet and darted back to his house, running faster than he ever had ran in his life.

The man, who had been successfully spying on Nath until the moment the dog stole his belongings, emerged from the shadows to take a better look at the teenager's work.

"He has a good heart," he said.

"But he has suffered. Anger is latent in him," a soft voice countered.

"In all of us, Wayzz. In all of us."