Marinette exited the metro station, aimlessly retracing old steps from her past. On the surface, she was calm, even fashionable in the chiffon blouse and fitted jeans. Kaalki had at least succeeded in that venture, even as she lamented her master's current predicament from the comfort of inside the spacious purse. Internally, the dark haired woman was a mess. She couldn't stay out long, and she'd have to return soon. Hopefully, she'd get her head on straight before Adrien showed up. She'd left a note, hopefully, he'd wait? If not, she'd make it up to him. Maybe call him herself?
No… She couldn't do that. It would be too awkward, wouldn't it? Was his number even still the same? She groaned to herself at how hopeless she was at all of this, then gave her own cheeks a light slap, almost facepalming as she pulled herself together.
"Okay, Marinette, you can do this. It's just a visit from an old friend," Marinette psyched herself up while she walked aimlessly through the streets of Paris, talking to herself like a crazy person with her kwami giving her a sympathetic yet slightly exasperated look from within her purse. "Just a friend," she reiterated, meaning the words to be bolstering. "Just. A. Friend."
"Marinette, I do not understand what has you so discombobulated," the horse kwami commented quietly. "Weren't you saying just last night that you wanted to be found?"
The dark-haired woman resisted the urge to groan again, lest it become a habit. As much as she loved the kwamis, this was their one big downside. No privacy. "Yes, Kaalki, I did. I do. But it's complicated." She sighed deeply, trying to reason out a way to explain it to her companion. She fisted her hands around the strap of her purse. It was either that or her hair, and she probably already looked crazy enough. "What if he takes one look at me and knows it's me? What if I fall in love with him again- for the third time might add! - so hard that I lose all ability to reason around him? What if we share this instant connection, and I lose all ability to deny him anything? I'd give him everything, white picket fence, hamster, the whole nine yards."
Kaalki tapped her chin, thoughtfully. "Isn't that the ideal situation?"
She nodded, but she didn't look happy about it. "I don't deal in ideals, though. Largely, that isn't what happens. I need to be prepared for the worst-case scenario. I need to be prepared to mitigate the damage that might happen. What if he doesn't recognize me? What happens then? What if he looks right through me and only sees 'his old friend, Marinette', and nothing else?" A panic raised in her chest as ideas popped in her head of all the ways it could go wrong. "Even worse, what if he does recognize me, all of me, and doesn't like it? What if he realizes that I'm just me and runs the other way?"
"If you ask me, any man who does not see you as an ideal companion and woman is not worthy of you," the tiny horse kwami haughtily noted.
Marinette gave her a small smile. "Thanks, Kaalki." The smile didn't last long. "But that is just the thing. I'm not. I'm not the ideal anything. What if he realizes what a terrible person I am and decides he wants nothing to do with me?" The very thought had her wishing she was back in Shanghai, sitting in her garden and just not dealing with this. She'd been moderately successful professionally, but personally? She was a liar and a coward in the face of everyone she'd ever known, and she knew it. She could be no less as long as she was the guardian. Honestly, she didn't deserve Adrien. At all. "I don't think I could survive that."
She'd long since considered and decided that it was likely her fate to be just like Master Fu, separated from the one she loved until the end of her tenure as Guardian. The idea no longer terrified her as much as it once had. She'd accepted it. But now, after seeing Adrien again, it tightened in her chest painfully.
She had to stop and take a deep, clarifying breath, leaning over a railing overlooking the Seine. Had she really walked so far already?
"Oh! I remember this place!" The horse kwami stated excitedly, peaking out of her purse.
It took her a moment to realize just where her errant steps had carried her as she looked in the direction Kaalki indicated. Was it coincidence or subconscious action that brought her here? It had been fifteen years since the last time she stood in this spot. It had changed much, Master Fu's Massage Parlour. It had obviously changed hands, perhaps several times, if the blank spaces where signs once hung were any indication. Currently, it was vacant. The bamboo design in the window glass was still the same, though. She almost felt like she could peek into the window and see the old man sitting for tea.
In a way, it was almost allegorical, she thought with a spot of melancholy.
She had a seat on the bench facing the empty storefront and stared at it for a moment, thinking. Organizing her thoughts while Kaalki looked on in curiosity. "I wish I could still ask you for advice, Master," she said on a whim, her voice in a near whisper. The masters of the temple had been wonderful teachers, but Master Fu had been her friend. Once, she had talked to him about the secrets she'd kept from Chat. His words had always stuck with her; do you put the noodles in the water before the water boils? Back then, the answer had been that there was a right time for everything. "What do you do when you wait too long to boil the noodles? I'm pretty sure the water is all boiled out, now."
Master Fu did not answer, obviously, but another small voice did. "You add more water and try again, don't you?"
Marinette looked down at her companion, eyes wide in surprise at the oddly insightful statement. When she realized that Kaalki was being quite serious, she gave the horse kwami a fond smile. "Yes, I do believe so."
She took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling a bit lighter. In retrospect, she hadn't really had a moment to just sit and decompress on her own since first discovering Emma's absence. Maybe fresh air was really all she needed. And perhaps the unintentionally profound words of a small horse kwami. She walked to the storefront that used to be Master Fu's and placed a hand on the bamboo-patterned glass. "It's going to be okay, isn't it?" She still wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, but the "for sale or rent" sign on the inside of the window caught her attention. She considered it for a moment, processing the feeling of nostalgia and loss for a moment before turning away. "Time to go back home, Kaalki."
Zhuangzi ran along the rooftops, trying to stay out of sight of the general populace while still looking for his mother, every now and then hailing her with his multitool to no avail. She had to be detransformed, otherwise, she would have answered, he knew it. Within the first fifteen minutes of looking, however, he realized he was well and truly out of his depth. He had no idea where she could have gone, and with her miraculous, she literally could have gone anywhere. He exhaled deeply, then chewed on a thumbnail, thinking.
"Okay, Zhu, let's put our brain to this," he said to himself, sinking into sitting cross-legged on a rooftop, back to a chimney stack. "Places she's talked about often: the Trocadero. The Seine. The Louvre. The bakery. The Eiffel Tower. Perhaps somewhere in the 8th arrondissement?" As he contemplated that line of thought, he pulled up the map of Paris on his multitool. Within the minute, he huffed and closed the device. "This is ridiculous," he chastised himself.
Suddenly a light bulb went off in his head. When Nooroo had told him about his powers, he'd said that he could find people to give powers to based on their strong emotions. Did that mean he could track specific emotions? His mom was probably afraid if she had run off like she had. Perhaps he could use that to find her- if she was still in Paris, that was.
He shifted his stance into one of meditation, focusing on the emotions around him and attempting to filter them. Focusing on just one emotion was like trying to find one particular stone in a rather gargantuan mosaic. It was extremely difficult, but not impossible. It was giving him a headache, though. In the end, he got up and decided to try proximity. Maybe he'd be able to sense the emotions better if he was closer? In a way, that did prove to be the case, but again, it didn't help a lot. He could focus on one person, but if he was going to use that, he might as well just look for his mom with his eyes.
He stood and began moving again, and despite his search, enjoying the freedom of movement. He liked the free feeling of running. He was naturally athletic in a martial arts kind of way, at least for an eleven-year-old, but he felt as though he was literally floating like a butterfly with how light his steps were. He couldn't fly, per se, but that almost felt like semantics at this point. He could run on a clothesline, for crying out loud. High jumps were nothing. Dressed as he was, he wondered if he could run on water…
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden tug in his gut. A strong emotion. Fear. No, not just fear, he decided. Several people were terrified. Of those, he felt the perfect one; such a strong desire to help… but… mama said no akumas… "Damn," he growled out and began running towards the strong feelings.
Alya was racing along the banks of the Seine, eyes on the rooftops for a glimpse of the possible hero/villain that had been spotted in the area when she was suddenly stopped by whatever, or whoever she'd just run into.
"Alya!"
"Marinette?!" As the two women stopped to stare at each other in surprise, the taller woman looked at the petite one she had just run into, cataloging the differences versus her memory. Marinette's hair was definitely shorter, and she wore glasses now. Her style was still impeccable, and she looked amazing if shocked. "Girl! How have you been?!" She asked excitedly, then cut off the answer. "No, pause that, no time! Have you seen any mysterious figures on the roofs today?"
The dark-haired woman blinked at her and shook her head in confusion. "Should I have?"
Alya shook her head, answering distractedly while still scoping the area. "I hope so. Paris hasn't had a dedicated superhero since Ladybug and Chat Noir retired!" She excitedly answered. "I'm hoping to get the scoop, but…" She paused. She knew where Marinette was staying so it wouldn't be hard to chase her down later, but this was the first opportunity they'd had to really talk in years. "Listen, I need to do this first, but we need to catch up. Besides, aren't you supposed to be on a date with Adrien right about now?"
Marinette, in the same way that Alya fondly remembered, blanched.
That, however, was second to the sudden cacophony of screams coming from the bridge.
It was just supposed to be a simple picture. It was supposed to be adorable. Let the child stand on the railing and pose with the parents. But warnings exist for a reason.
"There, in the river!" Alya pointed out as both women scanned the situation from the right bank. Marinette's heart almost stopped seeing what was probably a small child fighting to stay above the water in the middle of the Seine. If she could transform, she could make a portal and just pull him out… but where? She was out in the wide open. She began looking for a hiding spot frantically.
New sounds of shock drew her gaze back to the waters just in time to see a new figure, dressed in purple and white and wielding a staff, land on the water and run toward the child, snatching him up before jumping back on the bridge on the opposite side. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," Alya was excitedly chanting under her breath as they both ran towards the bridge. Marinette mirrored the sentiment, but for vastly different reasons.
She was equal parts proud, terrified, and furious. The way Zhuangzi looked up in her direction, she figured he knew it. The costumed boy handed the child to his extremely relieved and grateful parents, then gave the gathering crowd a formal bow. He leaped upon the railing, ready to jump away, but Marinette called out, "Wait!" at the same time as Alya.
The confused look her son gave her, and the grateful look Alya sent her, spoke volumes. Zhuangzi walked along the railing to the two women. "Do you speak Mandarin?" he asked Alya directly, in that language. That was actually a really good idea, Marinette thought and jumped on the bandwagon. If her son was going to provide her this gift, who was she to turn it down?
"Sorry, I have no idea what you just said… crap we need a translator," the journalist said already trying to locate one among the crowd.
"Actually, I can translate," Marinette volunteered, the plan already firmly cemented in her brain. She then said to her son, "Good thinking to use Mandarin, but you are still in so much trouble, young man."
"I am so sorry, mother, but I had to help. I couldn't help it," He replied with a frown. The pride Marinette felt grew just a little bit more. Perhaps she could afford to be not quite so angry.
Marinette turned to Alya. "He says that he'd like to stay and chat, but not with the crowd."
"I'm far from happy, but still incredibly proud," she admitted with a gentle smile. He smiled back and nodded. Marinette turned to Alya. "He's agreed to meet with us somewhere else. Just stick with me," she told the journalist with a confident smile. At the same time, Zhuangzi jumped away and retreated to the Parisian skyline, leaving behind the cheers and excitement of the gathered crowd. With him gone, they began to disperse, still talking excitedly about what had just happened. Marinette especially noted the tear-streaked face of relief on one woman's face. Yes. She could definitely forgive her son this.
"Marinette, you are a lifesaver!" her old friend gushed, then frowned. "But this means you'll miss your date with Adrien."
The bluenette adjusted her glasses. "First off, I have no idea how you even know that. And Second off, well, I'm not so sure I'd be missing much. It wasn't really a date just..."
"...two friends catching up."
"...two friends catching up." They said at the same time. Alya rolled her eyes.
"Besides, I can probably just call him later, or something," Marinette added with a shrug. Not that she had his number... maybe.
She could feel Alya scrutinizing her every mannerism at this point. Just like old times. "Uh, huh. You, me, girl night. We are going to have one before you skip town again." Marinette considered that with both dread and anticipation. It would be nice to learn more about how all of her old friends were doing, especially Alya and Nino. But first…
"This way," she said and led her to a more out-of-the-way place. Once even more of the crowd had cleared, and the street was relatively empty, the butterfly hero dropped down into the nearby alley and waved at them.
"So what is the plan, mother?" he asked.
She smiled at him. "Act as though you do not know Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She pointedly used her name, then indicated Alya. "This is Alya Cesaire..."
"Lahiffe," Alya corrected, catching her maiden name.
"Lahiffe. She is an investigative journalist. We give her misleading info and keep bad people from Paris," Marinette finished with a smile as if she was simply greeting him and introducing themselves.
Zhuangzi smiled and gave a greeting bow to Alya. "Nice to meet you, Alya Lahiffe, who my mother will tell me about later! Please go easy on me."
"He asks that you not record anything, but you can take notes," she pretended to translate for Alya, who already had her tablet out and gotten her stylus ready.
"Wow, your Chinese has improved over the past decade," she teased the designer, then swapped to a more professional attitude, asking, "So, Butterfly Hero, what's your name?"
"Zhuangzi," he answered after Marinette translated.
After getting some aid from Marinette in how to spell that name phonetically and using roman characters, the reporter smiled and asked, "Where are you from?" It seemed she was keeping the questions simple to aid with the translation and transcription.
"Somewhere in Asia," he kept it vague, which made Marinette smile. Places and Names were harder to fake in mistranslation. He was catching on.
"How did you get your powers?" Alya jumped right in with both feet. "Do you have a Miraculous?" Alya's eyes lit up at the probability of her last question.
"Better yet, tell me why you were out here, transformed or otherwise, and not at home," Marinette purposefully mistranslated.
The boy scratched the back of his head sheepishly, and Marinette saw Alya note the action. "I was trying to find you after you ran off. I thought you were pulling a runner and bolting at the first sign of father showing up. When I went back to check on you, you were just gone. I thought you were too afraid and might not come back in time."
Marinette frowned at that, partly because he might have been partially right, but also because he obviously didn't see her note. She would have been home already if not for the events at the bridge, and now this damage-mitigating spur-of-the-moment interview. "He says that the source of his powers is a secret bestowed upon him by his master in Asia. He is only here on a training mission and will be returning shortly."
The disappointment on Alya's face was clear, but she pushed through it. "Are there other heroes like you out there?"
The boy waited for his mom to mistranslate, and when she said "You can't say if there are other heroes like you out there," He simply shrugged his shoulders.
"Okay, another question then. Why did your Master choose Paris for your training exercises?"
"You can't really answer that one either, since there is no reason for you to be in Paris." The butterfly hero shrugged again, giving the journalist a reluctant smile.
"Yeah, probably can't answer anything directly hero-related, huh?" Alya noted, then smiled again. "Okay, something a bit more personal, then! Why the Butterfly Motif?"
"Answer this one however you like, then make an excuse to leave before she asks another question," Marinette said from experience. Otherwise, they'd be here all day.
He answered Alya honestly, after a fashion, with his mother translating. "You should do your research! Perhaps I am simply a butterfly dreaming of being a man." And then the boy had the audacity to give a Chat-level wink at a woman more than twice his age.
Alya laughed heartily, then said to Marinette, "Oh, I like this one. Shame we can't keep him."
"You know, he's probably only a teenager or something," Marinette pointed out.
Alya stated her counterpoint with a grin. "Doesn't mean he isn't adorable. He's like a mini Chinese Chat."
Luckily, Alya didn't catch the boy's momentary glee at the comparison. Or the fact that winking at someone was considered rude. Good Lord... Why couldn't either of her kids be more like her? Scratch that. It was probably a good thing they took more after Chat. Zhuangzi waved farewell for show, saying, "Sorry for leaving. Or not. Where do you want me to wait for you, mother?"
Marinette returned the wave farewell. "Go two blocks over. There is an alleyway sandwiched between a bookstore and a boutique. Detransform there, then meet me in the bookstore."
"What did he say? What did you say?" Alya asked as the masked hero bounded away.
"He said that he couldn't stay any longer. I told him how much we appreciated him taking his time to talk to us and for rescuing the little boy."
The journalist sighed. "Fair enough," she said with a smile, probably remembering the many times that Ladybug and Chat Noir had pulled the same stunt. She looked thoughtful. "I did get some good information, and add that to the video I got of the rescue, I think I'm set for today." She turned to Marinette fully, hands on her hips. "So what do you think, girl? Got time to catch up? You haven't met my son, Miles, yet." That last was said as an enticement.
The bluenette was indeed tempted, but she had other things she needed to do at the moment, such as catch up with her son. She weighed her options, then smiled. "Actually, I have a lot I need to talk to you about as well. A lot has happened in the last twelve years, you know." Way more than the auburn-haired woman could ever know, in fact. She reached into her purse, where Kaalki helpfully pushed her phone to her. She took it and pulled up her schedule. "I have a meeting with a client tomorrow at 2 pm, but my morning is clear."
"I can do that," Alya smiled. "Nino is still out of town and Etta will have university, so I'll bring Miles along as well, if that is okay."
"That is more than okay," Marinette replied, enjoying the happy, warm feelings of a maybe-renewed-friendship. "Oh! You need my new number!"
The two women exchanged numbers and went their separate ways with the promise of meeting up for breakfast. She might have missed Adrien today, but the day wasn't a bust. Things were looking up.
Marinette entered the vintage bookstore, giving a fond wave to the old proprietor, actually a bit surprised that he was still the one running the place. He had to have been well into his eighties by now. He had already been old when she was still a teenager if she recalled correctly. He nodded and raised a hand in greeting before returning to his crossword, not really paying her much attention. Some things never change, she thought happily before finding Louis safely ensconced in one of the hidden reading nooks nestled among the packed shelves of the bookstore. He was already thumbing through a title on Norse mythology in one of the large armchairs. "Find everything you needed?" She asked quietly, as per bookstore etiquette.
He nodded. "Yeah, I did." He closed the book but kept a finger to hold his place. "Sorry, mama," he sincerely apologized.
"No," she shook her head. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You did the right thing in that situation, all things considered. And as for the rest," she kissed his forehead. "We'll talk about it later."
He smiled. "Love you, mama." He noticed what she was wearing and his smile slipped a bit. "You weren't planning on avoiding Bà, were you." Had he figured that out from her attire alone?
She took a seat in the next armchair. She'd always liked this bookstore, and she was so happy to see it was still open. She wasn't sure if the same person still owned it, but it was a hidden gem. The perfect place to sit and escape the world while vanishing into a good book. The atmosphere was fantastic for creativity as well. Cozy and almost magical in its ambiance, in the way that only vintage bookstores could be. "I won't lie," she admitted, "I had thought about it, but no." She settled comfortably in the chair, picking her words. "I was actually about to head back home when the excitement at the bridge happened."
"So, if I hadn't been out looking for you, everything probably would have been okay," he reflected with a frown.
"Or that family would have lost a child today," Marinette pointed out to her son, reaching over to put one of her hands on his. "Think of it this way; had Alya not been looking for… visitors, then she wouldn't have run into me. Had she not run into me, I would have been gone already when it happened. Neither of us would have been there. He may have been fine, he may not have. You ensured he was fine." She squeezed his hand. "And I really am proud of you."
She had so much more she wanted to say to him, but not here. As quiet as it was, they were still technically in public. "Come on. I'll buy that book for you."
He was too young, she thought. Too young for the responsibility he was trying to take. Many parents were worried about their kids hitting puberty early and growing up too fast. Marinette had to worry about hers becoming a full-fledged superhero before the ripe old age of fourteen.
For some reason, that made having Chat as a partner again seem that much more appealing. Well, maybe she could get the water boiling again.
AN: I am not fluent in either French or Mandarin, just FYI.
Also, my knowledge of Chinese culture can be boiled down to a google search.
Please send help. xD
Also, is it summer yet? I'm way too tired for it to not be summer.