Adrien skidded out of class and took off at a run across campus.
He looked ridiculous. Old running shoes, designer jeans, a long black coat flapping around him and a full face of very carefully contoured makeup designed for black and white film. He had rushed from a photo shoot to class and hadn't had time to wash his face or change his clothes. The jeans really shouldn't have even been allowed off set. They cost more than some cars but he had planned to have them back before anyone noticed. The teacher had glared, because after all that, he had gotten caught in the metro and been late anyways.
It wasn't a good day.
People turned to stare as he ran by as fast as he could. He didn't stop except to hand back a book he bumped out of a girl's hand. She gave him that starstruck look that people gave celebrities. He hated that look. No one who looked at him like that saw a person. They saw a pretty picture walking around. He didn't wait for her to ask for an autograph. He wheeled around and kept going.
"I hate this campus Plagg," he muttered. Plagg was tucked into one of the deep pockets in the coat. He had chosen the coat for the pockets.
"Me too. No good cheese," Plagg's voice was muffled by the fabric.
Adrien didn't really care about cheese. He hated the campus because at peak hours it lacked places where he could hide and transform and not be caught. It was four o'clock in the afternoon and the rush hour was starting. He needed to get out of the crowds trying to leave campus and change. He wasn't fast enough like this. Adrien was never enough on his own. He needed to be Chat Noir before he could do any good.
The news of the Akuma attack was still just rumours. Comments on twitter feeds and blurry photos on Instagram but he had learned that he needed to get there while it was still that small. He didn't have the power to fix it. His power was destruction. He couldn't put buildings back up once they'd fallen down.
So Chat Noir needed to be there before it got that bad.
It might have been possible if only his fellow underclassmen didn't stand around in herds. They were as immovable as cattle and darting through them was like running an obstacle course.
He finally made it out off campus and ducked into an alley where he could change. The strength that came with being Chat Noir woke him up like he'd been asleep all day and was only now truly himself. Without people in the way, without having to worry about all the eyes that followed the famous boy across campus, he could truly move. He vaulted rooftops. He caught himself with claws sharp enough to bite into roof tiles and leave gouges.
And he got there fast.
And found nothing.
A city park in perfect order. There had been blurry photos of a car with a smashed in roof, of a man in a red suit floating above that fountain, it had been this park. He had recognized the fountain and the children's play set. He had come here when he was little. It had been the same place.
He was sure. It had been this park.
But here, everything was fine.
He dropped down to sit on the edge of the roof he'd stopped on. His feet dangled and he drummed his heels against the eaves. He twirled his baton with one hand and scanned the length of the park as though it were hiding secrets. The grass wasn't torn up. The slide wasn't turned sideways. He dropped down to the grass and walked through the pristine park. Even the flowers were all in bloom. It was a post card.
"Even the truly brilliant can make mistakes," he said to no one.
Chat Noir checked another three parks in the neighbourhood but none of them were destroyed either. Paris was bright and happy and fine around him. It was a relief to have it be a hoax or a mistake. His nerves were jangled but it was still a relief.
He trudged home as Adrien, Plagg complaining in his ear until he bought a round of camembert and just dropped the entire thing into his pocket. His coat was going to smell like cheese but it made Plagg happy.
"What happened today?" he asked.
"You took a scenic walk through half the parks in the city?" Plagg suggested between mouthfuls of food.
"Not what I meant, I was so sure that was the right place," he said as he slouched against the wall to look at the pictures he'd seen in class and figure out what he had missed. He had checked half of Paris. There wasn't an attack anywhere. It must have been a hoax or old photos being reposted and he wanted to know who and why.
The phone was covered in notifications. His alerts were all flashing. Little red numbers counting up on the news feeds he had set up as well as all his social networks. A text from Alya came in before he could open anything else.
"Did you see it!?" it read.
Alya wasn't so much his friend as Nino's friend but he liked her. She was the kind of person who carried enthusiasm like a communicable disease. He didn't go to the same school as she did and only saw her when they all hung out together. Adrien pretended not to notice how hard she and Nino were not-dating.
She studied journalism, was a semi-professional dog walker, all while running three blogs and a youtube channel. That didn't even touch on the volunteer work she somehow managed to be constantly doing. Even though he was a secret superhero on top of modeling contracts and his course work, she still seemed to be busier than anyone he knew.
"no?" he sent back but he was already clicking open news feeds and it only took a second before he found it. In big letters, over a cellphone picture from the same park where he had found nothing but flower gardens and perfectly cut grass. It was blurry but it was her. He couldn't see her face but the suit was unmistakable.
Spotted in St. Germain
Paris Attack
Ladybug Comes Home
"you've seen it now? THIS /post/04762893"
"do you think she'll do an interview about why she left?"
Alya's messages popped up on screen and interrupted his scrolling. She had linked her own blog. Of course she had, she was Alya. He stared at in confusion before opening it up to run through Alya's collection of the photos from the news sites. It wasn't a mistake. There was even a short video of her swinging up onto a lamp post as the Akuma flung bolts of what looked like lightening at her. It was only four seconds. He let it loop.
She was back. She was back and she had been so close. He must have missed her by minutes. His chest was tight and he sat down on the edge of a fountain because he had temporarily forgotten how to walk.
Elation and disappointment ran through him.
Ladybug was back in Paris. She hadn't waited for him and he didn't know how to find her but she was home.
