Chapter 6: A Chance Encounter

High School Reunion—three words that Adrien never thought would fill him with such dread. Then again, Adrien also never thought he'd return to his old classmates as a part-time alleyway lookout who takes down drunken perverts.

Life was nothing without surprises.

"Adrien? Adrien Agreste, right?"

Good thing Life was full of surprises tonight.

Nathanaël was a sight for sore eyes. His artfully styled red-orange hair paired with the well-cut suit gave off an air of put togetherness that Adrien felt himself lacking. The feeling, thankfully, was contagious. Adrien felt a smile growing on his face as he extended a hand.

"Nathanaël," he greeted, "What a relief. You're the first person I've recognized all night, and I was starting to worry that I'd crashed the wrong high school reunion!"

Nathanaël shook his hand without hesitation, turquoise eyes alight with amusement at Adrien's words. The man standing before Adrien wasn't the boy he remembered. Nathanaël practically glowed, a new confidence exuding from his every pore—a far cry from the shy, timid classmate he recalled having in second year.

Adrien's high school career consisted of a handful of shaky months. He'd been absent off-and-on for the first year due to his unpredictable and demanding career. Constantly leaving Paris for the majority of the school year landed Adrien with a private tutor as his only possible means for keeping up with his studies.

Early second year saw Adrien's return to the public education system, but his attendance was still nowhere near perfect due to work. After two months, his attendance declined for different reasons. Ladybug's disappearance had unquestionably affected Adrien deeply. His social life could attest to that. After the third month of his second year, Adrien returned to his tutor. Permanently this time.

A fair amount of his junior high classmates chose to attend the same high school due to its location and prestige. Not having met many new friends during his tumultuous three months here, Adrien knew coming into this reunion that there would be few faces he'd recognize.

Adrien wondered if he had any right to claim having been a student here.

Even still, here he was. Junior high was the high point before everything flew south. Some subconscious part of Adrien hoped tonight would spark him to find his way back to how he felt all those years ago.

"Crashed? No, no, this is more like a celebrity guest appearance than crashing the party," Nathanaël laughed before adding, "I helped with sending out invitations, and I remember your name being on the list. After not seeing it for so long, it sure stuck out to me. I'm surprised you found the free time to make this thing, Mr. Superstar!"

"Oh, please," Adrien snorted, friendly gesturing up and down at Nathanaël. "If there's a celebrity here, you're the one who's looking the part. You going into the fashion business? What are you doing these days?"

It wasn't meaningless flattery; Nathanaël truly did look like he'd just walked off a runway. Adrien couldn't quite place who he was wearing, but it was undeniably designer.

Nathanaël looked down at his apparel and was instantly aflutter. Color flushed his skin as he rubbed his jawline, seemingly embarrassed.

"Trying to, actually," he answered. "This was a present from a fashion designer I'm hoping to form a partnership with soon." Nathanaël thumbed over the details of his cufflinks as he spoke. "I'm in the business of 3D printing. Designing and modeling—that kind of thing. I print a variety of things for, uh, doctors and architects. Hopefully, I'll be working with designers, too. Now that my business is fairly stable, I was thinking about trying my hand at some original designs. Something more artistic. Equal balance of work and play, right?"

There was a light in Nathanaël's eyes as he spoke. Adrien didn't doubt that the man had found his passion.

A funny thought occurred to the model. "You always were quite the artist. Well, it sounds like you're living the dream; must be every artists' wish for their art to come to life!" Adrien grinned to himself, finding the humor in the similarity of Nathanaël's profession and how his old classmate had fought when akumatized.

"I guess I am living the dream," Nathanaël breathed out with full contentment. He appeared to lose himself in a moment of thought before starting to attention at a sudden song change. Focusing back on Adrien, a renewed interest in his eyes, a waterfall of words seemed to pour out of their own accord. "Um, actually, now that I'm seeing you, would you be interested in getting involved with a project of mine?" Nathanaël's eager offer was cut short by the man muffling himself, covering his mouth with a hand. Utter mortification overwhelmed his previous casual composure. He then gave a quick shake of his head and corrected himself. "Well, no, not mine, er, I obviously need to run everything by some people, and you're probably a very, very busy man with much, much better offers, and who am I even kidding, right?" In only a matter of moments, the confident Nathanaël was gone, and an unsure, shy persona that Adrien was far more familiar with had resurfaced. Nathanaël's eyes darted in every direction, looking for an escape. "A-Actually, nevermind! I was just on my way out!"

"No, wait!" Adrien quickly stopped the man's babbling by grabbing onto his arm, anchoring him so he wouldn't flee. "I'd love to work with you," he reassured sincerely without pause. "I recently left my father's agency and went independent, so I've got more free time than I'm willing to admit." Adrien was straightforwardly honest, for once slightly thankful for getting consistently denied work. Had he actually been busy, would he have completely missed this opportunity to help out an old friend? "You talk with whoever you have to, and you've still got my email if you need me."

All the tension seemed to drain out of Nathanaël. A steady smile returned, and the redhead slowly nodded.

"It was good seeing you again. I'm really glad you could make it."

"I'm really glad you invited me."

Some acquaintances and a mob of polite fangirls later, Adrien was about ready to take his leave as well. This was a private, personal event and he wasn't about to ruin it all by drawing attention to himself. If the paparazzi showed up he'd get kicked out for sure...

Best to leave them in want and not wanting you to leave, right?

Adrien had almost cleared the front entrance when a sudden cry caused him to jump.

"OH MY GOSH!"

The scream, distinctly feminine and very close in proximity, worried Adrien that he had attracted the exact attention he'd feared. Prepared for the worst, Adrien turned around, smiling and ready to defuse whatever situation that might arise.

His smile faltered, his fear being swiftly replaced with confusion.

At first glance, not a single person appeared concerned with Adrien's existence. But then his eyes fell on the unnaturally rigid form of a woman with her back to him, her fingers threaded anxiously through her hair, and her lips blurring in speech to the open air, as though conversing with a nonexistent classmate.

Cautiously, Adrien approached and began to hear what he could only describe as the crazed ramblings of a woman having an argument with herself.

"—not crossed when I looked earlier! But of course! It'd be stupid to cross your name out if you don't want people to know!... But I know. Oh my gosh, I know! I knew it! I knew I'd know!... This is fate. It has to be! Everything matches up now! The timing is perfect! Everything is perfe- no, not everything, obviously, but oh my gosh, it could be! This could be it! This might fix everything! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh... But what if she doesn't want that? I mean, it's not perfect now—nothing is ever perfect! It's good though... Great, actually... Would she want that to change? That'd be a lot. So, so much change... I could do it. I did this much already!... I'm a genius!... No! I'm a moron!... AUGH! And she doesn't even know! What kind of a best friend am I?!... Am I doing this? Not doing it? What am I doing?! Do I say something?! He's right fucking there! How can I not say something?! Oh my gosh, I can't believe that—"

"Alya?"

Adrien, pairing together the back of her head and her voice, vocalized his recognition. The woman jumped a clear foot in the air as though ice water had just been poured down the back of her dress. She then froze in place, eyes tightly shut, possibly attempting to conjure the power of invisibility. Unsuccessful, she opened her downcast eyes to look at the illuminated screen held in her trembling hand.

"—this is really happening," she finished her visibly derailed train of thought with a strained squeak. And suddenly, in one fluid motion and a whirl of brown-red hair, the phone disappeared into Alya's clutch and she stood facing Adrien, positively beaming.

"Adrien!" Alya greeted him happily, no hint of her previous crisis to be heard. "I didn't expect to see you here, your name wasn't crossed out on the guest list!"

Eyebrows raised, completely baffled at whatever had just occurred and the sudden shift that made it seem like nothing had even happened, Adrien was too confused to do anything except go with the flow.

"I didn't want to attract the wrong kind of people," he answered simply. Looking to either side of Alya, Adrien felt a strange sense of imbalance. "Did you come here alone? I seem to always remember seeing you with—"

"Marinette?" Alya's voice awkwardly cracked.

Snapping his fingers, Adrien nodded vigorously. "Yes!" He then gestured to Alya's side and motioned as he spoke. "About yay high, dark hair, bright eyes, glued to you at the hip? Did she come here with you? Because I can't help but notice—" Adrien waved his hand through the empty air around Alya. "—the lack of hip-glueage in this scenario."

Alya blinked twice before devolving into a fit of nervous laughter.

"That's her, alright!" Alya answered spiritedly.

There was a long pause as Adrien waited for Alya to finish. He watched her expectantly, but Alya only returned his look with a smile.

"So, is she here?"

"Hm?"

"Is Marinette here? Did she come to the reunion?" Adrien, once again, scanned the room. "I've only run into one, well, now make that two, friends here tonight, so it'd be nice to know if there's someone I've missed."

Alya looked at Adrien with wide eyes.

"Do you want to see her?" Alya asked in a daze.

"I'd love to," Adrien answered automatically.

Alya nodded to herself, yet was slow at processing the motion. Eventually, in almost a zombie-esque fashion, Alya reached out for Adrien's wrist and began to guide him through the crowd.

Marinette.

Adrien associated only positive things with the name. Positive memories, positive personality, positive positivity. That's exactly what he'd come to the reunion for. It was those kinds of positive traits that he himself needed to remember and take with him moving forward.

Marinette.

Alya was no longer leading him. Her hand released his wrist, and the action brought Adrien out of his head long enough to lock onto yet another familiar turned figure. She was already engaged in a conversation, so Adrien took a moment to simply watch her.

He couldn't help but notice differences.

Her hair was longer. Much longer. It was the most obvious difference to notice, as most superficial details are. Logically, he noticed the dress next. Slick tresses led his eyes to slick cloth. Black, bold, and striking, it demanded attention, and Adrien gladly surrendered. As he watched her move and talk, Adrien thought he could catch red accents hidden about the waist. A part of his brain tugged at memories, the dress not entirely forgotten.

Past the most noticeable distinctions was where Adrien began to second guess himself.

Had the Marinette he'd known really been all that shy? This woman was orchestrating a group exchange with ease. The farthest thing from demure, this woman effectively emanated confidence. She spoke undauntedly, her expression utterly alive with each added word. And her laugh. Freeing was the only word Adrien could grasp that captured its essence. Her essence.

This Marinette was completely unreserved and unrestrained.

Free.

"This wouldn't happen to be the dress I remember from Fashion Week, would it?"

The words were out the instant Marinette stepped away from her conversation. Adrien couldn't hold them back. Not that he would if he could.

Marinette turned to his voice. Her open, inviting face split into a radiant smile.

The sensation of him and him alone holding her attention had a way of making him feel like the luckiest man alive.

"Well, I would hope so! I remember putting in a whole lot of effort getting it there," she replied with a carefree air.

Scratch that. Now he was the luckiest man alive.

"I would expect no less from you," Adrien commended, grinning despite feeling like he'd just been zapped with electric current.

The old Marinette had never spoken to him like this. So blithely. Adrien had always been aware of the fact that Marinette never quite spoke to him like she spoke to other people, but this couldn't possibly have been what he'd been missing out on, could it? How could he make it so that he'd never miss out on it again?

At least there was finally something he could hold onto. The Marinette he knew was ambitious and hardworking. At least some things can be trusted to be consistent. Maybe this new footing would help him balance under the dizzying effects of this force of nature.

"I was on my way out when Alya caught me and said you were here," Adrien explained. "I honestly couldn't be happier that she did."

A small crinkle formed as Marinette's eyebrows pinched together. Confusion began to mar her face, and immediately Adrien wondered if he'd said something wrong.

Marinette looked over Adrien's shoulder to Alya, whose eyes were moving panickedly between Marinette and Adrien, the color rapidly draining from her face.

A thought dawned on him.

What if Marinette wasn't friends with Alya anymore? Alya had been quite strange when Adrien asked about Marinette earlier, which would make total sense if the two no longer talked. Adrien could understand that much. That had to be it. And that meant... Had he seriously just offended two people so carelessly?

Marinette was subtly shaking her head. "I don't—" She trailed off in thought while looking at Adrien, cocking her head to the side as though debating.

Alya's hand was back around Adrien's wrist, pulling, a touch too intense for comfort.

"Adrien." Alya's voice suddenly sounded very urgent. "Adrien, there are some things that I need to explain. I thought Nino had told you, and I wouldn't have done this if I'd known, but I didn't and I-I should've checked to make sure, oh my gosh why didn't I check?!"

Alya's unnerving rambling took a backseat in Adrien's mind when Marinette's contemplative eyes locked back onto his.

An apology was readily waiting at his lips, but Marinette opened hers first.

"I'm sorry. Have we met before?"

A/N: Now the true story begins! Ladybug might be gone, but Marinette's here to stay! But something's quite obviously off... The full backstory is next chapter and it's a long one! Thanks for reading!