I'm diverging from the canon a little bit in the way certain Miraculous holders are chosen. I've described it in more detail below, but basically it's just a way for Marinette/Ladybug to not know that Luka is Viperion (because I'm a sucker for the 'don't know who the other is' trope, haha)

Also, thank you to everyone who has read/favourited/reviewed thus far. It means a lot to me. Sorry chapters have been kind of rubbish so far - the only way I've been able to upload each chapter on time has been by uploading literally as soon as I've finished writing it, so these are all first drafts. Maybe after wards I'll go over them and flesh them out a little.

Anyway, I'll shut up now.

DAY TEN: COMPOSITION

Saturday passed by in a daze of video games and a particularly difficult akuma. So difficult, in fact, that Ladybug had been forced to call in for help from the other Miraculous Holders by sending out a message on her yo-yo with her location and hoping that Rena Rouge, Carapace, or Viperion were nearby.

With it being a Saturday, and most of the holders seemingly chosen from teenagers, nearly the entire team turned up. The akuma, upon seeing all five holders with nothing better to do on the weekend than beat the hell out of some emotionally unbalanced Parisian, all but surrendered.

She only knew the identity of some heroes: Ryuko was Kagami and Pegasus was Max. Queen Bee had revealed herself as Chloé, thus ruining her chances of being chosen again, but of Carapace, Rena Rouge, and Viperion she had no idea. The Guardian had chosen them; a trial run at first, but eventually he had given them permanent ownership of the Miraculous with the instructions to only jump in if asked or if the akuma was proving too strong for Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Ladybug was grateful for the Guardian's forethinking in this regard. After all, it would be a pain to have to leave the fight to go appoint specific holders every time an akuma proved too difficult, although Rena Rouge had, at first, been a little too eager in jumping into battle.

On Sunday, Marinette had woken up thinking she might spend the day on some designs or a new project, when she discovered in her school planner a piece of maths homework due the next day that she had forgotten about. Her maths book, which she would need for the homework, was in her locker at school, and so she texted her friends for help.

Alya replied that she was super busy all day and couldn't help.

Rose apologised that she was away in Amiens for the day with her family.

Neither Alix nor Mylene even saw her text.

Juleka, however, replied that she also needed to finish the homework and that Marinette was free to come over so they could work on it together.

And so, with a bag stuffed with notebooks, pencils, and maths equipment, she set out onto wintry streets. No snow last night, but the temperature was in the minuses, and a small amount of rain had frozen solid on the pavement, creating a glassy maze of opportunities to fall over.

Marinette navigated the icy streets, slipping only a handful of times, and doing no more damage than a sprained wrist that would heal in a day. When she arrived at the Couffaine houseboat, she shouted her greetings—as usual—but heard nothing in reply.

Odd. Usually the captain at least could be found on deck, but there was no one around. The door was unlocked, so Marinette made her way down into the bowels of the boat, but found no one inside either. The kitchen was empty, Juleka's room abandoned, and the small lounge area at the front of the boat similarly devoid of people.

Next, she came to Luka's room. She knocked; no reply. The door was slightly ajar, so Marinette only needed to give it a very gentle push to open it enough to peer inside.

Luka sat at his desk facing away from the door, guitar neck peeping over his shoulder, recording programme open on his computer screen. A large pair of headphones mussed up his hair. She could see his fingers moving up and down the fretboard, and his elbow bobbing as he strummed and plucked further down the body. The sound produced was faint, like he was plucking at ghost strings.

She knew she should have announced her presence instead of lurking in the doorway, but it was so...interesting watching him create music. At least, that's what she thought he was doing; truth be told he might have just been fiddling with his guitar, but then she noticed a lead trailing from the guitar into a small box beneath his desk, a red bar on his screen which gradually grew longer.

Marinette waited until he pressed a button on his keyboard, slid the headphones off of one ear, and let go of the guitar neck. Before she could announce herself, he spoke up.

"You can sit down."

"How did you know?"

He turned in his chair, grinning. "Sixth Sense."

"I thought that was for ghosts?"

"Maybe you are a ghost."

Marinette giggled but nonetheless went to sit down on the bed as Luka propped the guitar against the wall and completely removed his headphones.

"So," he said, leaning back with folded arms and an easy smile, "what can I do for you?"

"I came to work on some maths with Juleka, but…"

"Ah. She should be back soon; she had to run out for...something. I'll be honest, I wasn't listening."

"Too busy with your music?"

"Yeah. Wanna listen?"

"Yes!"

Luka laughed. He twisted a small knob on the side of a small speaker then pressed a button. Gentle chords strummed on an acoustic guitar; a soft drum eased in underneath, like a heartbeat at rest; rhythmic thuds of a bass; then, finally, a gentle, lilting tune picked out on clean-toned electric.

The whole piece was only a minute long, but it was beautiful. She was disappointed when it ended.

"Does it have a name yet?" Marinette asked.

Luka shook his head. "Nah, not yet. I never usually get as far as a name… Composition 54, I suppose."

"What sort of song will it be? It sounds…" She frowned as she pondered the song—slow, but not melancholy. "It sounds romantic."

An odd look crossed Luka's face; an expression caught between concern and dejection. As quickly as it came, it was gone. "I suppose it is," he said.

"Is it for the girl you like?"

He seemed to meditate on this before simply replying, "Yes."

"Are you going to give it to her when it's finished?"

For some reason he let out a single, hollow laugh. "I don't think that'll happen."

Marinette's shoulders fell. "No? Why not? I'm sure it'll be amazing when it's finished."

"That's the problem," he said. "It'll never be finished. I've started so many songs for her and about her but I've never finished one." He minimised the music programme and pulled up a file with several songs listed with numbers for titles. He shifted to the side so the screen was more visible and scrolled through the list. "None of these are done."

"Why not?"

"I, uh." He sighed, raking his hand through his hair, messing it up even worse. "I don't know how. No, that's not right. I can't make them...right. I can't get them to sound like they do in my head, you know?"

Marinette nodded; she understood the feeling perfectly. "I have the same problem when I'm designing things," she said. "I can see them perfectly in my head but when I try to sketch them out...they never look the same."

"It's a pain," he agreed. He stood up and crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed. "The answer is obvious, of course."

"It is?"

"Yeah," he said. "Just...become perfect."

"Oh, ha ha." Biting back a laugh, Marinette shoved him with her shoulder and grinned when he pretended to be knocked down. "I thought you were going to say something useful!"

"Life's full of disappointments," he replied with a breezy smirk. "I, apparently, am one of them."

"Don't try that whole 'talking yourself down to make me feel bad' thing. I'm not falling for it."

"Another of life's disappointments."

She grabbed his arm and tugged him back into an upright position. "Sucks for you."

They sat for a while in amicable silence, listening to the winter winds graze against the window and feeling the current gently rock the boat. "So," he said suddenly. "Maths, huh?"

"Maths," she repeated. "I should have done it yesterday but I...didn't get around to it."

"Yeah? Busy day?"

"I had a lot of video games to play," she replied solemnly. "And then there was the-" she faltered—she'd nearly said akuma attack, which would have been very odd for Marinette to say. But Luka was looking at her expectantly so she had to say something. "The, uh...the letter!"

"Still working on that?"

Well, no. She hadn't looked at it since Friday, and honestly had no intention of even thinking about it until the day before Valentine's Day. "I just want it to be perfect," she said.

"Just…" He paused, frowning, unsure. And, was it her imagination, or was he leaning closer? "Just make sure you're not writing love letters for people who don't write them back, okay? You, well, you deserve a thousand love letters."

Perhaps it was the sweet words, or his soft, sincere voice, or the gentle light in his eyes, but Marinette found herself unable to speak because her face had broken out in a hot flush and her heart was thumping in double time and her mind had gone as blank as her maths homework.

The spell broke when Luka leaned back to grab his phone from his bedside table. "Thousand love letters...I could use that in a song…"

"It would be a good title," Marinette said, pulling herself out of her daze.

He typed something on his phone, still looking thoughtful. "Maybe I'll write a song for you and call it that."

"If you do you'd better let me listen to it, finished or not."

"We'll see," he said as upstairs they heard the sound of a door opening and shutting. "We'll see."