In shock, Nino freezes.
He heard wrong, that's for sure.
Adrien can not be Chat Noir. It's impossible. He would have known. He would have noticed. Adrien would have told him.
Wouldn't he ?
But the stupor he reads on Chloé's face confirms that his ears haven't played a trick on him. Adrien has indeed just said that he was none other than the hero of Paris. And given the circumstances, he is clearly not in the mood to joke.
Nino can feel the blood slowly flowing back from his face.
Adrien was Chat Noir.
And he never suspected it.
Not once, not for a second.
Nino's veins freeze in shock while a sudden feeling of nausea twists his stomach. As in a bad dream, he looks at this young man whom he thought he knew as well as the back of his own hand and who suddenly appears to him as a stranger.
Adrien.
Chat Noir.
His best friend.
The one he considers as his own brother and whom he obviously knows much less than he would have thought.
Jaws tight, Adrien keeps his gaze on the ceiling, obviously ignoring the state of distress into which his words have plunged his friend. For the first time, Nino notices how Adrien's eye color recalls that of the hero of Paris and how his messy blond hair makes his resemblance with his alter-ego all the more striking.
"I was Chat Noir," Adrien repeats wearily, abruptly pulling Nino out of his torpor.
The young man passes his hand in front of his eyes, lets out a tired sigh and closes his eyelids.
"Chat Noir...", he whispers one last time before turning his back on his friends, sharply ending the conversation.
Nino leaves the room with the impression of being trapped in an absurd dream and a violent migraine which gives him the feeling that his skull is splitting in two. In just a few seconds, his best friend has become a stranger to him. A stranger who has lived for years a double life wich he never knew existed.
Thoughts come from all sides under Nino's head as the young man slowly begins to understand all that Adrien's revelation entails.
Chat Noir. The fights in which he risked his life. All these dangers to which he constantly exposed himself in order to protect Paris. Ladybug. Hawkmoth. His father.
It's too much, too much at once, and Nino starts feeling dizzy.
But suddenly, as he is about to lean against a wall to regain his balance, Chloé grabs him sharply by the elbow. Sinking unceremoniously her fingernails into his flesh, she pulls him violently behind her, makes him cross the living room and the corridor to drag him into his own bedroom.
Once inside, Chloé slams the door more than she closes it, making the walls shake with the violence of the impact. Livid, she immediately turns to Nino.
"Nino, I hope for you that you didn't know that Adrien was Chat Noir!" She hissed through her teeth, her polar blue eyes sparkling with rage. "Because I've been struggling for months to make him feel better and I did you the honour of asking you for your help, so if you dared to hide something as crucial as -"
"DO I LOOK LIKE I KNEW?" Nino yells, before freezing immediately.
This violent outburst paralyzes them both.
In their strange duo, Nino is usually the calmest. The one who tempers Chloé's volcanic anger, the one who keeps his cool when his explosive comrade pours out her rage on all those who have the misfortune to approach her.
But there the shock is too strong and for once, he cracks before his friend.
Under Chloé's worried gaze, he passes a weary hand over his face.
"I didn't know," he says with a heavy sigh. "I really didn't suspect a thing. "
Nino takes a step back, leans full length against the door, and closes his eyes.
Adrien is Chat Noir, and it will probably take him some time to get used to that idea.
During the rest of the day and the night that follows, Nino and Chloé talk, talk and talk again. Sitting cross-legged on the young woman's bed, they dissect the slightest of their memory, compare, analyse, seek to understand.
Gazing at the Ladyblog, they retrace for hours the exploits of the hero of Paris. With a relentlessness that Alya would envy them, they link each fight of Chat Noir to the unexplained disappearances of Adrien, look for similarities between the grandiloquent attitude of the hero and that of their best friend, compare their faces, their voices, their laughter.
Slowly, they understand how their friend's life was paved with sudden absences, cautious silences, necessary lies.
Slowly, they realize how little they know who this young man really is, whom they thought they knew so well.
To the surprise of this extraordinary discovery is mingled the shame of not having realized sooner that their best friend was none other than Chat Noir. They have been around Adrien for years, and not for a moment did they suspect that he might be the famous hero of Paris.
They blame themselves for not having seen anything. For not having realized how extraordinary Adrien was. For never have noticed how his courage, his determination and his dedication defied all standards.
And more than anything, they blame themselves for not having understood that Adrien's distress was fed by the suffering of Chat Noir.
They hardly dare imagine the horror that Adrien felt when he discovered that the man he fought so hard for years was none other than his own father, and they are just beginning to measure just how much this terrible news devastated their friend.
Night has fallen for hours and a tense silence settles in the room. Nino glances briefly at Chloé, still seated next to him. Strangely still, she stares at her phone, watching without actually seeing one of the countless videos posted by Alya. On the screen, the two heroes of Paris jump, twirl, skilfully dodge the attacks of their opponent of the day.
And suddenly, Chat Noir is violently thrown against a lamppost.
The thud of shock immediately brings Chloé back to reality. Suddenly pale, she flinches and taps briskly on her phone to stop the video.
Nino immediately gives her a grateful look.
It's one thing to see a hero fight. It's another to know that behind the mask of said hero hides their best friend, and that it is he who takes all these hits during these terrible fights.
Just imagining Adrien in the midst of such a tornado of violence makes Nino nauseous. The young man closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath to calm the frantic beating of his heart.
Adrien is no longer Chat Noir, he silently repeats to himself.
He is no longer Chat Noir. He no longer has to fight Hawkmoth, he is no longer exposed to this danger he has faced for years. Now he is safe, thousands of miles away from his father and his old life.
But despite everything, Nino freezes with fear as he thinks about everything his friend escaped.
He never suspected Adrien of being Chat Noir, but in hindsight, that's certainly a good thing. If he had known how much the one he loves as a brother putted himself in danger, Nino would certainly have died of anguish a long time ago.
Slowly, Nino opens his eyelids and turns to Chloé. The young woman is now scrolling through the interviews of Chat Noir and Ladybug, favouring those where their friend appears. Without saying a word, Nino leans towards her to see better.
He examines each video intensely, scrutinizing the smallest detail until he has the impression that the image of the hero of Paris burns his retina. Chat Noir speaks with Adrien's voice, and the insolent smile that emerges on his face is reminiscent of the one that illuminated his friend's features from time to time.
"How could we not see it, Chloé?" Nino whispered softly, distraught. "We're his friends. His best friends. How did we not notice ? "
The days following Adrien's abrupt revelation are strange.
By mutual agreement, Nino and Chloé decide not to blame him for this secret that he has hidden from them for so many years. Instead, they prefer to focus on his still too fragile morale, to do their best to help him keeping his head above water.
The three friends discuss a lot, gradually get reacquainted.
With time, Nino and Chloé learn to reconcile the image of the flamboyant hero of Paris with that of their best friend. Their memories now appear in a new light. They remember the puns that Adrien sometimes lets slip when he feels at ease with his interlocutor. His unexplained absences, his absurd apologies. His fascination for Ladybug, his joy at every compliment he hears on Chat Noir.
And slowly, a new portrait emerges before them.
That of a young man who is neither Adrien nor Chat Noir, but their best friend whom they must now rediscover.
For his part, Adrien opens up more and more to them.
Now freed from his secret, the young man finally confides fully. For hours on end, he talks about Gabriel Agreste, about the pain he felt at being betrayed like this, about the horror that nearly consumed him alive when he realized he had almost died countless times from the hand of his own father.
With infinite patience, Nino and Chloé listen to him. Comfort him. Support him with unwavering will.
And little by little, Adrien slowly resurfaces.
Admittedly, he refuses to pronounce Ladybug's name, just as he is still reluctant to mention Paris. But slowly things are getting better. At the insistence of his friends, he finally leaves his room. First of all, he agrees to accompany Chloé to go shopping. Then, day by day, Nino takes him to concerts, encourages him to go for a walk in the city, forces him to get back on his feet in this life that he has been fleeing for months.
With relief, Nino and Chloé see Adrien enrolling in classes at the nearby university.
Thinking about a degree is thinking about the future, and it's a remarkable improvement in their friend's condition. Of course, the situation remains far from ideal. The depression that plagued Adrien has receded, but it still lurks, threatening to strike him again as soon as he let his guard down. Nino and Chloé watch the young man with constant attention, ready to support him at the slightest failure.
Sometimes Adrien breaks down. Vacillates, sinks again in this despair which seems to refuse to leave him definitively.
But each time, he manages to resurface.
The recovery will be rough, but the young man is on the right track. And one day, it becomes time for Nino and Chloé to return to their hometown. Adrien is still not doing perfectly well, but he is doing better, and the time has come for him to learn how to do without their help.
So, after days of thinking, Nino and Chloé finally set out for their hometown. Adrien insists on taking them to the airport himself, where their goodbyes are as long as they are heart-breaking. But when a voice coming out of a loudspeaker announces the boarding for Paris, Nino and Chloé are forced to leave their friend.
"Above all, don't forget to give us some news", says Nino for the umpteenth time, while hugging Adrien one last time. "And if there's a problem, you call us right away. No matter what time it is. "
"Otherwise, I will not hesitate to come back here to personally kick your butt! " Adds Chloé, frowning threateningly.
"Understood, understood," Adrien approves, raising his hands in surrender, while a weak smile appears on his face. "I'll call you regularly. "
True to his promise, Adrien rarely lets a week go by without contacting his friends in some way. Whether via a simple message left on their phone, a phone call or an assiduously detailed email, he makes a point of keeping them informed of his life on the other side of the Atlantic.
In the United States, Adrien has ups and downs. Sometimes, he plunges back into this strange apathy that worries Nino and Chloé so much. At other times, he seems to get slowly better and to be leading an almost normal life.
One day, while Chloé is quietly watching a movie in her room, her phone rings. When she answers, Adrien's voice immediately echoes.
"Okay, Chloé, first of all, don't worry. "
Chloé's jaw tighten and instinctively, she digs her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Adrien's phone calls are always real lotteries that put her nerves on edge. Depending on the day, her friend may be in as good a mood as the circumstances allows, just as he may be absolutely devastated.
It's a roller coaster ride that exhausts Chloé.
Nino manages the vagaries of Adrien's morale much better than she does. He is quicker to comfort him, knows better than she how to find the right words.
Chloé is not like Nino. Even with the best will in the world, she knows full well that she will never be as much patient and compassionate as he is. But she remains fiercely determined to try to help her friend.
So, in her own way, she faces her own difficulties and tries to cope as best she can.
"Too late, I'm worried," she replied in an acid tone. "What's going on ? "
"So there's really nothing serious, I assure you", continues Adrien. "But since I know that you pay the receptionist a lot of money to keep you informed of any unusual event and that he will surely tell to you about it ..."
Chloé doesn't even bother to argue with him, nor does she feel the slightest shame in monitoring her friend's actions like this.
Scruples are very little compared to extra peace of mind. As long as she is not certain that Adrien is definitely doing well, she will not hesitate for a second to bribe as many people as necessary to make sure he is not hiding anything from her.
"Adrien", she interrupts him authoritatively. "What. Is. Happening? What are you doing? Where are you?"
She hears her friend breathe a heavy sigh and her heart sinks.
Obviously, today is one of those days that she dreads above all else. One of those days when Adrien's morale falters, and where she bitterly regrets that Nino is not there to give her reassuring words to convey to their friend.
But in her misfortune, she still has a little luck.
Adrien is showing a little too much disinterest for her own peace of mind, but he doesn't seem completely downhearted either. Rather, it gives her the impression of being in some sort of intermediate state. Not happy, but not desperate either.
At least that's something.
"Once again, nothing serious", slowly repeats Adrien. " I am at the hospital. Just two broken fingers. On the right hand. "
A gasp of surprise immediately escapes Chloé, who almost drops her phone under the effect of stupor.
"WHAT?" She exclaims. "How?"
"Today was one of those days when... Well, I was not in a very good mood and my father tried to call me," explains Adrien in a dull, almost mechanical voice. "I didn't even answer. But then I was even angrier. And I punched the wall. "
"YOU DID WHAT?" Yells Chloé.
"I punched the wall", repeats Adrien wearily. "And I broke two fingers, end of story."
Chloé pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers and mechanically shakes her head.
"Adrien ..." she mutters. "With Nino, when we told you to externalize your anger, we didn't mean that ..."
"I know, I know..." sighs her childhood friend. "Anyway, you were bound to hear about it, so I thought it would be better if you learned it from me."
"I appreciate", retorts the young woman coldly. "Ah, Adrien ..." she continues in a warmer tone. "I adore you, but sometimes you're really stupid. "
"I know", gently replies his friend. "I have to go, I'm going back to the hotel. Bye, Chloé. "
"Bye. "
Months go by and Adrien's news is more and more reassuring. Adrien has changed. He's more serious, more melancholic than the teenager he once was. But if he has not quite regained his zest for life, he is nevertheless much better than when he abruptly left Paris and his depression seems to have finally been relegated to the stage of bad memories.
Adrien's mood is now much less chaotic than before and Nino no longer dreads his calls. When his friend talks to him, it is no longer to speak about his abysmal despair but rather to tell him about his quiet daily life.
"Hello", Adrien greets him one day, when dawn is barely rising in Paris. "I know it's been a few days since you heard from me, so I thought I'd give you a call. I'm calling you from the seaside. "
"Hey", exclaims Nino happily, while doing a quick mental calculation. "Do you realize that it's been months since we've been this close, geographically speaking? If you are by the ocean, you are a little closer to Paris! "
"Not quite", replies Adrien with one of those quite laughs that are now his. "I'm on the Pacific coast. "
"W-what?" Nino mumbles, dumbfounded. "The Pacific coast? "
"I wanted to see the sea", calmly explains his friend. "So I rented a car and drove. And I arrived at the seaside. "
Nino does not know if he should be worried or reassured to learn that Adrien can thus leave the city where he has found refuge and drive hundreds of miles on a whim. But his friend seems to be happy with his little getaway, and Nino much prefers to see him like that rather than when he was lying prostrate in his room.
The two friends chat for a few minutes, talking about everything and nothing. And when hanging up, a question instinctively bursts from Nino's lips.
"Are you okay?" He asks mechanically.
He no longer counts the number of times he said those few words, just as he has no doubts that he will never stop worrying about his friend's health.
"Yes, Nino," answers Adrien gently. " I'm okay. "
Little by little, Adrien starts talking about France. From Paris. Years have passed since he left and homesickness is clearly beginning to catch up.
He still refuses to even mention Ladybug's name, just as he is reluctant to discuss the relationship - or lack thereof - he now has with his father. But he's better. Much, much better.
And today, while chatting with his friends via webcam, he talks about coming back.
"It's just... I don't want to go home," he sighs, passing his hand on his neck. "Not in the house where he... It's still too early."
"You can come to my home", spontaneously suggests Nino. "I don't have a problem with hosting you. "
"Thank you, I really appreciate, but you know just as well as I do that it won't be possible", replied Adrien with a weak smile. "There is not enough room, you'll go crazy before the end of the week."
Nino opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again.
He would like to tell Adrien that he is wrong, but he has to admit that his friend is right. Even with the best will in the world, his apartment is far too small to allow long-term cohabitation.
"Then come to my home", intervenes Chloé. "Well, to my father's. In his hotel. I can provide you a suite, on the house. You can stay as long as you want."
"Chloé, I ...", begins Adrien.
"Adrichou", she cuts him off immediately, "you know as well as I do that this is THE best solution. "
On his screen, Nino sees Adrien smile when he hears this ridiculous nickname. It had been years since Chloé had called him that, and obviously the prospect of seeing their friend coming back to Paris revives old habits in her.
"I'm not saying otherwise, but I can perfectly afford a room", finally resumes Adrien. "I still have plenty -"
"On the house", repeats Chloé firmly. "I can let you pay for the meals, if that can ease your conscience," she continues with a dismissive little wave of her hand. "But for the bedroom, out of the question. You are my guest. And you will keep it for as long as you want. "
"Accept, dude," adds Nino with an amused smile. "She won't give you a break otherwise. You know as well as I do how stubborn she can be when she wants. "
"I'm not stubborn," protests Chloé, proudly raising her chin. "I'm just preventing you from making stupid decisions. "
"So it's decided?" Says Nino to his friend. "You're going back to France? "
On the other side of the ocean, a frank smile appears on Adrien's lips.
"I'm going back to France."