Throw Me Around Like One Of Your French Girls, Chapter 13
A stunned Ladybug struggled for words, pondering the effects of Beauty Mark's blow that she might find beneath her costume. Chat hovered over her, unsure of whether a comforting hug or keeping his distance was called for in the moment, but unable to do both at once.
"In all seriousness," worried Chat, "do I need to get you to a hospital? I don't know how badly hurt you are... but I'm not seeing much that looks promising right now."
Ladybug waved him off, insisting, "I'll be all right. Knocked the wind out of me, mostly." After a moment's thought, she conceded, "It's... kind of odd? Like, I'm not a doctor, but I think this might've been kind of like what those other victims felt. That he wasn't trying to kill them or maim them, but hitting them more to shake them up and bruise them. With me, he just had to hit a lot harder to leave a mark."
"I don't want to take chances with you, any more than you wanted to with the others," repeated Chat. "We can take a heck of a beating in these suits, but this might be the first time I've seen you this injured! Nothing feels broken, and you don't feel overly dizzy, or feel pain when you move anything?"
Tentatively, Ladybug flexed here and there, testing her limitations. "I don't feel anything like that," she noted. "Not that I've ever broken ribs or anything like that, but I'd like to think that I'd know it if I had! I can have my Kwami give me a once-over, once I'm home."
"Let me try something," suggested Chat. "Concussion protocol... Okay. What's your code name? What day is today? Where did we fight our first supervillain together?"
"Uh... Ladybug, of course?" she replied. "It's the 9th, I think. No, the 10th. Definitely the 10th. And we were in a sports stadium, set up for a football game, fighting Stoneheart."
"Good signs... you might not be concussed. What's your real name?" asked Chat. "The name of the girl under the mask, that you've certainly never told me before?"
"None of your business, Chat... and you know that," Ladybug frowned. "Sorry."
"You're thinking clearly enough," Chat grinned. "Which is the only reason that I asked that, honest! I would've tried to stop you from answering."
"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," smiled Ladybug, briefly. She took another glance at her face in her yo-yo's mirror, then sighed loudly. She and Chat shared a meaningful look...
"This is my fault."
Having spoken those four words simultaneously, Ladybug and Chat glared at each other.
"Don't be silly," Ladybug chided him. "I'm the one who got careless and got hit. I need to be better than that."
"I'm the one who wasn't next to you, drawing his attention away," Chat replied.
"I'm the one who sent you away! I needed you to check on the people that he'd hurt, and I meant that," Ladybug insisted. "That was more important in the moment."
"And I found out something important about what he could do, and I didn't get back to you fast enough," retorted Chat, sadly. "I ran like the wind, but I wasn't quick enough."
"Chat... we could do this all night, and neither of us would ever win," declared Ladybug, with a resigned smile. "I wouldn't want to be standing over you with your face caved in, either. It happened, and we'll deal with it." Her smile faded as she added, "Now I just have to figure out how I'll deal with it."
"How can I help?"
"I kind of think that you have? My hero came to my rescue, defending me... so fiercely that the villain ran away," she smiled. "I'm a little too fuzzy around the edges to try and track him down right now... and I don't know what I'd do if I did, just yet. He doesn't seem to be attacking anyone else... you can't hear anything bad in the distance, can you?"
Chat concentrated for a moment. "No, I don't," he confirmed.
"So he probably thinks that marking me up like this is what Hawkmoth wanted, for whatever reason. I'm going to go home and see how bad I look in my bathroom mirror, and what I can do to fix it for now," suggested Ladybug. "If he does go on the move and start attacking again, I'll come back out, of course. Watch the news, watch the Ladyblog, see if there are any more sightings reported. And don't go out on your own looking for revenge!"
"I promise," Chat declared. "Next time he shows, there'll be no separating us."
"I wouldn't want that, anyway," Ladybug told him, gently. She leaned over to hug him... and winced slightly as they came into contact. "Gently," she whispered.
"Absolutely."
Light footfalls on Marinette's balcony announced Ladybug's return home... well, announced wasn't quite what she had in mind, but accompanied would do.
"Spots off," she breathed.
Marinette allowed herself a sigh of relief post-transformation, as she checked her limbs briefly for other visible marks and that her range of motion was unimpeded. I don't feel any worse like this than I did as Ladybug, she thought. Time to go see how bad it actually is, though...
With even more care than usual, she checked for signs that anyone might be in her room, then slipped inside. She made a run for her bathroom, closed the door, then pulled her shirt off.
"Ohhhh..." Tikki winced, seeing the damage done.
Marinette stared hard at widespread bruising across her upper chest and left shoulder... just as dark and thorough as what Beauty Mark had left on her face. "Tikki... what happened?" she breathed. "I know that I got hit hard... but I've been hit hard as Ladybug so many times, and I've never been banged up like this!"
"Something... something disrupted my powers," explained Tikki. "Just for a moment... but it was enough."
"The flash of light," reasoned Marinette. "The camera flash. That hit me, and then he hit me."
"That would be my guess."
"Great. Now I know what not to get near, if I want to keep my secret identity," she worried. "Tikki, I look like I got run over by a truck tonight. If my parents see this, they're going to think that someone... maybe even Adrien... used me for a punching bag. How am I going to explain that? Or hide it from them?"
From downstairs, the sound of footsteps became audible. "Marinette?" her mother called. "You're still up tonight, right?"
"I don't know," whimpered Tikki, "but it's going to have to be quick!"
"Just a second!" Marinette shouted to her mother, then looked around her bathroom in a panic. She grabbed at a small packet and tore it open, quickly.
Fast fingers, don't fail me now...!
Sabine stood waiting at the door to Marinette's room, patiently.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" she called through the closed door. "I just had a question for you."
"No, I'm awake," Marinette called back. "Though not for too much longer. I was just... experimenting with something."
"Oh?" asked Sabine, as the door opened. "Like what... oh!"
Before her stood Marinette... wrapped up in her pink bathrobe, with greenish-blue goop covering her entire face.
"Hmmm?" Marinette asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Sabine stammered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare... I just wasn't expecting that," with a wave of her hand.
"Oh, this," Marinette smiled. "It's a clay beauty mask packet that Alya gave me to try. A skin treatment. She said that she'd had good results with it, so..."
Which is mostly true, thought Marinette. This just isn't how and when I'd planned on trying it!
"I see," noted Sabine. "What brand is it?"
The two of them exchanged small talk for a minute about Marinette's impromptu makeup routine, then about what Sabine had come up originally to ask her.
"All right, then," her mother told her as she left. "I'll leave you to it. Let me know how your face mask goes... I'll be interested to see how it turns out!"
"So will I," breathed Marinette. "So will I."
Once she was alone once more with Tikki, Marinette collapsed onto her couch, overwhelmed with relief.
"One down," she breathed.
"And several more to go," Tikki counseled her. "Because that was really quick thinking on your part, and it sounded to me like it worked this time... but you can't go to school like that tomorrow."
"No, I can't," frowned Marinette. "And I'd have to make it past my parents just to get out the door, before that. Let me think... I can't just walk around with Trixx covering me up with an illusion all day, can I?"
"You'd wear Trixx out before long," said Tikki. "Or someone would touch you, and pop! There goes the illusion, and your cover, and your secret."
"Darn it. You're right, that's too risky."
"And there's something else that you'll need to consider," Tikki continued. "Hawkmoth knows that Ladybug got marked by his Akuma, and that the left side of her face is messed up pretty badly; the villain got a good look at that, so, so did Hawkmoth. And I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I think that it's going to heal overnight... or maybe at all, until you can use the Cure. But you can't do that until you free the Akuma..."
Marinette's eyes flashed with recognition. "So I could be just walking around as myself and giving away my secret identity, if someone knows what to look for!" she realized. "This is diabolical."
She pondered her options, not caring much for what she was coming up with. "Mama knows that I'm home and in my room. I can't get past them again tonight, even if I wanted to," she reasoned. "Unless I go out the hatch, and while Ladybug can come and go that way... Marinette shouldn't be able to. And I can't ask Chat Noir for help..."
"...Because if he sees you marked like this, after he saw what Ladybug's marks look like, he'll put two and two together easily," agreed Tikki, glumly. "This is a puzzle."
"Okay. If I can get through tomorrow afternoon... somehow... I have an idea of how to cause another confrontation with Beauty Mark, at least," Marinette grumped. "But there are a few pieces of that left for me to figure out."
"I would suggest that you try to get some sleep, if you can," Tikki replied. "You're going to need a clear head."
"I'll try."
Morning arrived, and with it, even more complications.
Marinette staggered to her bathroom mirror, examining herself carefully and finding no changes in her visible pigmentation. With a sigh, she padded over to her desk and picked up her phone... then brought Tikki rushing to her side when she emitted a loud groan.
"What is it?" asked a nervous Tikki.
"See for yourself," grumbled Marinette, showing her a headline from a news site: LADYBUG - RED, BLACK AND BLUE?
"I can't say that I didn't see that coming," Tikki groused. "What does it say about you?"
Marinette scanned the article quickly. "It starts with the usual Akuma reporting... what he was called, what he did to people... pictures of the other victims... cell phone video that someone uploaded... there's the white flash... and there's me flying through the air," she muttered. "Oooh... a nice zoom-in on my battered face. Thanks for that!"
"So the public knows that your left side is bruised, too. Keep reading..."
She switched over to the LadyBlog, where she was heartened to see that Alya had posted how she was accepting NO FOOTAGE of Ladybug's plight - Thank you for reading the room and thinking first, Alya, she thought - and then to a popular gossip site...
"Ahhh!" Marinette gulped. "The nerve!"
Tikki leaned in and read:
An anonymous source has promised a bounty of 500 Euros for every photograph submitted online, authenticated as Ladybug - in or out of costume - bearing Beauty Mark's markings. Send photos to the following email address for confirmation...
"THAT'S good to know!" whistled Tikki. "That means that the streets of Paris will be full of paparazzi and wannabe reporters, looking for easy money."
"Clever. And nasty," admired Marinette. "That's why the Akuma ran away; once he'd marked me, Hawkmoth figured that he could use that to his advantage, and he couldn't do that if I purified the Akuma and Cured the damage."
"Do you think that you can track down who's behind the bounty?"
"I'll do a little detective work... but I doubt it," Marinette replied. "It's the Internet. It's not too hard to hide things like that... and it doesn't mean that it's Hawkmoth on the other end of it, either. Could just be some kind of paparazzi, looking for an exclusive. Not that that's much more welcome."
"Agreed. But, either way, it's a big problem. You're all bruised up, and you're walking out that door in an hour. What can you do about it?" wondered Tikki. "Are you planning on skipping school?"
"Are you recommending that?" marveled Marinette.
"Normally, no!" Tikki emphasized. "And you know that. But if you're all marked up..."
"And then I'd be walking around somewhere, and five guys with cameras would end up chasing a teenage girl with marks on her face. That's kind of a giveaway," sighed Marinette. "And I miss enough school for Ladybug things already, that I kind of want to pick my spots for that, you know? Only when it's really important for me to not be there."
Tikki watched as Marinette, making a decision, reached for her makeup case. "You've got a plan, then?" Tikki asked.
"I think so. I'm going to burn through so much foundation and coverup... and some of this wasn't cheap, either... but It's what I have here to work with. This isn't going to be easy," grunted Marinette, starting her base layer. "I can count a few blessings... it's not raining today, and I don't have phys-ed class today, so I shouldn't be breaking a sweat."
"Good luck," gulped Tikki.
Ten minutes became twenty... then thirty.
"Not bad..." Tikki noted, examining Marinette's handiwork. "But..."
"...But it's far from perfect. I know."
Marinette examined her reflection, shining light on herself from several angles. "The coverup's not, like, clown-makeup thick. From a distance, I think that I can get away with it. Maybe a meter or two, at most. Closer than that... I don't know how well that it'll hold up, if someone stares at it. So I have to keep anyone from looking closely at my left side until I can fix this... not Mama and Papa, not my classmates, and not the paparazzi."
"Some of which will be easier than others."
"Uh-huh. So... I'm thinking about some misdirection."
Tikki stared at Marinette for a moment. "...Such as?" she wondered aloud, as she watched Marinette reach across her desk for some darker shades.
"Something like this," suggested Marinette, dabbing around her right eye and cheek. "I don't want people looking closely at my left side, the one that would scream out 'I'm Ladybug' if my coverup doesn't work... so if they're going to look at me, I'll want to draw their eyes to my right side, instead."
She showed off her first touches towards that end, to which Tikki gave an appreciative whistle. "I get it," she exclaimed. "Because if they see a big welt on your right side... not only will their focus be on that..."
"...But they won't be looking for coverup on my left, because if I was going to smear makeup over an injury, wouldn't I have covered over that one, too?"
"Clever," Tikki noted. "But very risky, too. What are you going to tell people when they want to know what happened there?"
"That I fell down and bumped it on something?" ventured Marinette. "My friends know how clumsy I can be. I think that most of them will believe that. And I'll try to look embarrassed enough that they won't want to press me about it."
She examined Tikki's face for a reaction, and didn't like what she saw there. "...What?" she asked.
"Well... you'll have to be very careful. You're not exactly known as a convincing actress," Tikki pointed out. "Be subtle about it."
"I don't know what else to do, Tikki," Marinette pouted. "I don't want to run and hide. I don't know if I could run and hide. If I'm missing, that's kind of a clue by itself that I might be Ladybug, isn't it? I only have about another ten minutes to get ready before I'll have to go out that door. These markings won't be on me for that long... not past today, if I can help it... and if I can't fix my problem by tonight, I'll have bigger problems than that to worry about."
"I know. You're desperate, and you're doing what you can," Tikki comforted her. "And this is as good as anything that I can think of right now. You can't exactly Lucky Charm yourself a new face and body. Though I do have one question... what is your mother going to do, when you go downstairs and you look like someone punched your lights out? You're not going to want to let her see you bruised up at all."
"That... I do have a plan for," smiled Marinette. "In about fifteen minutes."
Sabine walked up to the bottom of the flight of stairs leading to Marinette's room.
"Marinette? Are you watching your time?" she called out. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
She began to climb the stairs, tentatively. "Honey? Are you..."
All at once, the door opened and a teenaged rocket burst through it.
"I know and I'm late and I'm sorry I know we've talked about this, I'll get something at the cafeteria to tide me over and yes I can still get there on time but I have to hurry-" a voice burst out from the bolting figure.
"Marinette, we have talked about this!" Sabine called, hands on hips, appearing frustrated. "Promise me you'll set your alarm earlier tomorrow?"
"I will I promise okay thanks!"
"Oh, on your way out, your father wanted to ask you if..."
The sound of an opening and rapidly closing door told Sabine that Marinette had taken the back door out, instead of her usual route through the bakery.
"Hmmph."
As the door closed behind her, Marinette heard Tikki's voice from her purse. "That was close... but I think that you got away clean," she said.
"Yeah. If I'm going to have a reputation for running late and making a mad dash for school... I might as well put it to good use once in a while," grinned Marinette, catching her breath. "And I am late enough that Alya and the other girls didn't wait for me. They know my habits better than that."
She reached up and tugged at her pigtails, then shook her head lightly, causing her hair to spill out behind her. "One less place for people to look today," she noted, "with my neck covered up."
"And that might make you less of a target for them," said Tikki, indicating the couple of photographers that seemed to be staking out the school across the road. "You're still the right size and hair color with a bruised face... but a different hairstyle today than Ladybug has."
"Hmmm," mused Marinette. "Maybe I should wear my hair down more often. Or up in a bun. Or two buns, like Multimouse had."
"I seem to recall Adrien admiring you with it down, that day in the ball pool," Tikki remarked. "If that means anything to you."
"Oh... it might," Marinette smiled, drawing a deep breath. "Okay. Time for phase two."
"Remember your attitude that you'd talked about, if they approach you," declared Tikki. "As irritated as you can be."
"You know exactly whom I'll be channeling," giggled Marinette, heading in that direction.
A reporter that Marinette didn't recognize scanned the area as she approached, looking disappointed at first... but perking up immediately when she saw Marinette.
"Harold, we might have her!" she called, motioning to a nearby photographer to follow her quickly. The two of them ran to Marinette with eager expressions, one scanning Marinette's face carefully, the other with his camera poised and ready.
"Miss?" she began.
"Can I help you?" Marinette growled, tone and face surly and uncooperative.
"Ladybug? Can we get a comment?"
"Ladybug?" scoffed Marinette, doing her best juvenile delinquent impression. "As if! I get enough of that crap from my classmates. 'You look so much like her. You're our everyday Ladybug,'" she added. "Just makes me sick!"
"Uh-huh," grinned the reporter. "I understand your need for a cover story..."
"So did the last three of you who've bugged me this morning. I'm late enough as it is... can't I just get to class, already?"
"Sure, if that's how you feel. Just pose for one quick picture," said the photographer.
"I saw the news this morning," Marinette sighed, as if explaining the concept to small children. "Ladybug got the left side of her face beaten up, didn't she? Where's my bruise at, huh?"
The photographer focused on her face... then paused, lowering his camera. "She has a point there," he noted, gesturing to Marinette's bruised right side and apparently-clearer left.
The reporter paused, considering that. "If the Akuma didn't cause that bruising on you, then... what did?" she challenged.
"The piece of crap that tried to steal my boyfriend yesterday," declared Marinette, forcing an evil and defiant grin onto her face and making a fist. "Yeah, she got me one good one... but I took two of her teeth out!"
At that, the reporter frowned, then turned to the photographer... who shrugged at her. "Does she sound like Ladybug?" he suggested.
"I think we made a mistake. Keep looking, Harold. Sorry to bother you, girl," grumbled the reporter.
""WhatEVER."
At the school's front door, Marinette burst into a giggling fit. "That sure felt weird... but it worked," she cackled.
"I'm so proud of you," deadpanned Tikki. "You impersonated a thug with the greatest of ease."
"I just didn't want my picture taken, if I could help it," Marinette replied. "I don't know who they'd sent it to... and the last thing I need is someone comparing my photograph to Ladybug's."
"Well, two obstacles down, one to go, right?" Tikki said. "But this one will be the hard part."
"Yeah," agreed Marinette, turning sober once more. "Some random reporter doesn't know me at all... but my friends do. And I really don't like lying to them any more than I have to."
"So don't, then. Keep your interactions to a minimum. Just skate through the day, and stick to your cover story, and hope for the best," Tikki assured her. "Good luck."
Marinette took another deep breath, then strode with purpose towards her classroom...
As the door opened, Ms. Bustier paused her lecture's beginning and glanced at the late arrival without much visible surprise. "Ah, you are choosing to join us today, after all," she smiled. "Please take your... oh, dear."
All eyes snapped to Marinette... and to what appeared to be a substantial bruise on the right side of her face. As exclamations rumbled through the class, Marinette walked calmly to the center stairs.
"Whoa! Did... did you do that to her, Adrien?" asked Sabrina, hesitantly.
"Take a look at his face," countered Nino. "Does it look like he was expecting this?"
Marinette did take a good look at his face, on her way up, which was radiating profound shock and dismay... as he couldn't take his eyes off of her, all the way to her seat.
"I'm fine, everyone. It looks worse than it is," she addressed the class. "I... fell last night, and bumped my head on something. It could have been a lot worse... and I don't want to talk about it right now, okay?"
Most of their heads turned back towards the teacher. Adrien's didn't.
"I'm fine," she whispered to him, loudly.
His expression continued to disagree vehemently with her assessment, though his voice remained silent.
"Adrien," Ms. Bustier harrumphed. "I would like to continue, please."
Reluctantly, he complied, as their teacher resumed her introduction to the works of Flaubert.
Alya drew Marinette's attention to what she'd just written on her notepad. We ARE going to talk about this, right?
Marinette scribbled on her own notepad, Of course we are. Just get me out of here at the break, fast.
As requested, when the break between classes arrived, Alya hustled Marinette out to the hallway, with her other girlfriends close behind her.
"Okay, okay," Marinette gasped, motioning for some breathing room. "This really isn't a big deal. Like I said earlier... I fell, that's all."
"What, onto someone's fist?" Alya snapped. "Someone did this to you. Who was it?"
"That's not what I said," countered Marinette. "I was at home, and I slipped and fell. I caught myself just enough that it was a glancing blow, but it left a mark. It looks bad, but it doesn't really hurt all that much, and my mother said that it ought to fade in a day or two."
She turned the right side of her head towards her friends, doing her best to draw attention away from her thorough use of coverup on the other side. "See? I didn't want people to blow it out of proportion, but then I was late and everybody looked at me at once, and I didn't have a chance to explain."
"You're sure that there's nothing going on here?" Alix asked. "I've got your back, if you need me."
"Me, too," chirped Mylène. "I've never been in a fistfight in my life... I don't think that I'd know how... but I won't let you stand alone."
"Who would I get into a fight with?" Marinette shrugged. "Chloé and I are learning to simply ignore each other, for the most part. We haven't seen Lila in weeks. And even if we had, it's not like I'd try to punch her! She's not worth that kind of trouble and effort."
"You're really not the type for that," Juleka agreed. "At least, I don't think so."
Alya glared at Marinette, looking unconvinced. "You're sure that there's nothing else that we ought to know about?" she asked, insistently.
"I'm positive," replied Marinette, in a soft voice. "But I thank all of you for being worried about me."
"Well... we girls do need to stick together, right?" Rose smiled.
"We do. And I have a great circle of friends right here," Marinette smiled back. "If I ever do need that kind of backup, you know who I'll call."
As the group dispersed, Marinette breathed a small sigh of relief. Great friends, she thought, to whom I just lied my ass off. Some friend I am... even if it IS for the sake of Ladybug's secret.
I'll wipe off the bruise makeup on my way home from school, then head right home, she reasoned. And then, once I get an opportunity, I'll transform and see if I can track down-
"You might be able to fool them," a voice intoned. "But I think that I know better."
Oh, no...
Marinette quivered a bit as Adrien walked towards her, not sure whether she should make an excuse and run or be brave and stand her ground.
"I... um... we are going to be late getting back to class..." she ventured.
"I don't care. This is more important," Adrien stressed. "That looks an awful lot like you did get punched in the face. I do have a little bit of recent experience with that..."
"I am so sorry," gasped Marinette. "You know how sorry I am about that."
"I do," Adrien reassured her, "and I still say that it wasn't your fault. And it's feeling better today. But you, on the other hand..."
He studied her from about a meter away, Marinette wanting to turn away but also not wanting to turn her covered-up side in his direction. "I don't know what happened here. But what I do know is that a girl asked me to teach her self-defense, to help her learn how to fight... and here she is, not long after, looking like she's been fighting someone. And I'd like to know if I'm wrong about that."
Marinette blinked... not having anticipated that line of inquiry. "You... you are wrong about that, Adrien," she exclaimed, cautiously. "I didn't go out and pick a fight with someone, and that is totally not why I asked you to teach me things! It just isn't! I'm completely sure that defense, not offense, is the way to go."
"All right, then," Adrien replied, flatly. "Whom were you defending yourself from?"
"N-nobody! I mean... no, I didn't ask to learn because I was expecting a fight, or because someone was picking on me or abusing me. I promise, Adrien. I'm very serious about that."
"You don't lie, Marinette. I know you don't," noted Adrien. "But I'm still trying to make sense of this, and... well... I can't help but be worried. The last thing I expected to see today was you looking beaten up!"
"First off, you know that my parents would never lay a hand on me in anger. Nor would I ever give them reason to," Marinette began. "If my father ever did that, his fist would put me through a wall, not just bruise me... and then my mother would throw him into the oven. For that matter, he'd probably jump in there himself out of remorse."
Visions of Weredad knocking Chat Noir up and down the block flashed before Adrien's eyes... but he dismissed them. "I'll agree with you there," he allowed. "I don't know them that well, but they really don't seem the type, and I trust you."
"And you know that Luka would never hurt anyone. A snake could bite him, and he'd spend the next hour trying to understand the snake's point-of-view."
Again, Adrien nodded in agreement.
"I haven't tangled with Chloé. I have no idea where Lila even is these days. And I'm not exactly putting on black tights and becoming a shadowy avenger of the night, trying to throw muggers around," Marinette intoned, trying to defuse the situation with a bit of humor.
"That's good," said Adrien, smiling for a moment. "But I still see what I see now."
"Is it really so hard to believe that I could slip and fall? Given how many times you've caught me while I have been slipping and falling?" argued Marinette. "Or that if I was being targeted by someone... that I wouldn't tell you who it was?"
"If someone was after you... you know that I would be there for you with one word," stressed Adrien. "They would regret it more than they could possibly imagine."
"My hero. So gallant," Marinette smiled. "And I appreciate that, in spirit... but there isn't a need for that. I asked you to teach me because you can't always be there to protect me. Sometimes I'm alone. And I wanted to know that if someone tries to do things to me... that I'll have my best chance of defusing the situation and getting away from it."
"...But no one has tried that with me. I promise you that, Adrien. That's not what this is about," she continued, pointing to her bruise-mark. "And if someone ever does... I will have a much better chance of being safe, thanks to you. And it feels really good to know that you feel that protective of me."
Please, please, don't keep pushing me about this, begged Marinette, internally. You're the last person that I want to lie to.
Adrien considered Marinette's argument in silence... her eyes pleading with him to believe her.
"I'm... not sure what to say, then," he replied. "If I'm overstepping my bounds, coming on like I'm acting possessive of you, I don't mean to be like that..."
"No, you're not. You're concerned about me. That's something very different," Marinette said, quickly.
"I am," Adrien sighed. "You are someone who is... very, very special to me, Marinette. I think that we're both starting to understand just how much I know that's true."
"I think I do," beamed Marinette. "And I'm not complaining."
"So, to see you hurt like this... well, if there is anything that I could possibly do to prevent it, or to keep it from happening again..." stammered Adrien. "I'd give... I'd do anything to keep you safe and happy."
Marinette felt a rush of blood to her face, hearing his soft words. "I feel very safe with you, Adrien," she replied. "And as for happy... I have a feeling that I'll get to show you just how happy you make me, sometime very soon."
"I don't think that I'd be complaining about that," Adrien grinned.
He gazed at her with soft eyes... and then, abruptly, with a confused look.
"Marinette..." he asked her, "...how is it that you're only blushing on your right side?"
No, no, NO! Marinette wailed to herself. I was so close to getting away with this! The stupid makeup is covering up my flushed reaction on that side!
"I'm... not sure," she mumbled, hope draining away from her. "Maybe we should-"
"Marinette. May I?" he asked, leaning in closer. "There's something odd about your face today... I mean, it's beautiful, it always is, even with the bruise... though there's something odd about that bruise, too... maybe I can help you with your makeup? As you can see with my own welt, I'm pretty good at covering up that sort of thing, and I've had a lot of practice-"
"I've... done enough damage with makeup today," panicked Marinette, "and we really are going to be late getting back to class-"
"Wait, what?"
Slowly, he reached out with one finger... making it clear that she could stop its motion at any time with a word... which she did not. Marinette felt like everything around her was suddenly in slow motion... that she was in a movie, somehow, and she could only watch and see how it would play out.
When the finger retracted, it had a smear of dark makeup smudged across it.
"Marinette... I don't understand this. Is that a fake injury?" Adrien gasped. "Why would you do something like this?"
"It's - really hard to explain - it's a very funny story - Adrien - please, don't -"
He leaned in further - the one time in my life that I DON'T want you close enough to kiss me, Adrien, you can still change your mind and pull back - as Marinette closed her eyes, helplessly. She knew that he wouldn't touch her without her permission... and that he didn't need to touch her to see through her deception.
An intake of breath and Adrien freezing in place told her what she needed to know, as she reopened her eyes and gazed at him, sadly.
"...Marinette?"
"Yeah?"
"If I... if I was to smudge the makeup on that side..." he faltered, "that seems to be all over that side... and down your neck, too... um... just what is it that I would find there?"
Marinette took a moment to form a response.
"...Nothing that I would want you to see."
The door to the classroom reopened, and Marinette and Adrien stepped through it, moving to their respective seats without a word. Ms. Bustier glared at the two of them, but continued on without addressing them.
A low murmur rumbled through the classroom. The beginning of an "Oooh-la-la!" from Kim was heard, until a scowl from Alix made him read the room and realize that the two of them hadn't been off kissing or snuggling.
As Marinette sat down and faced forward, Alya hissed, "What was that? And where's your bruise?"
"Adrien helped me cover it up with some makeup," she replied, tersely. "He's really good with that."
"Ah."
In front of her... Adrien forced himself to stare straight ahead, his eyes nearly burning a hole through the chalkboard, somewhat oblivious to Nino's whispers asking him what happened and if he was all right.
Marinette... he thought.
What am I going to do with you, Marinette?
You admitted to me that you were there last night... that Beauty Mark hit you and gave you what looks like a huge birthmark from Hell. That it won't come off, and that you covered it up as best you could because it won't go away, and that you made the bruise on the other side to try to distract people away from it...
...and that makes sense, in a twisted kind of way. I can see why you'd want to hide that injury from everyone... and you did tell me the truth, once I got past your disguise.
It certainly makes more sense than my teaching you a handful of aikido moves, and then you going out and picking a fight and getting your face punched by somebody. Who would ever want to do that to YOU?
But what you don't know... what you couldn't know... is that I WAS THERE last night, too! I saw Ladybug's injuries firsthand.
And yours are in the same place where I remember seeing hers.
And as Chat, I checked the other victims, too. Almost all of them, at least... I did stop following them at one point, so that I could get back to the fight - too LATE for Ladybug's sake, and she paid the price for that - but I saw a bunch of people that Beauty Mark had injured.
And you weren't one of them.
Now, it is possible... I GUESS... that you ARE now telling me the whole truth. That you were there last night... halfway across the city, for reasons mostly unspecified... and that you were one of the first ones that Beauty Mark hit, and that you got out of sight before Ladybug and I arrived on the scene, so that I didn't see you while I was checking on the trail of victims.
It's a pretty crazy set of coincidences... but it is possible.
Or...
OR...
Adrien reflected on how in most circumstances, the most logical and straightforward assumption was the correct one...
...and in this case, the most logical assumption shook him to his very core.
Adrien's runaway train of thought derailed as an elbow from Nino gently poked him in the ribs. "Dude!" Nino hissed, trying to draw his attention to the incoming glare of their teacher.
"Adrien... do you have an answer for my question?" Ms. Bustier repeated.
"I... do not," Adrien admitted.
"Do you know what my question was?"
Nino tried to whisper it to him, but was cut short by a brief gesture from the teacher.
"I also do not," said Adrien. "I'm sorry, I was... elsewhere."
"Are you capable of remaining with us for the rest of this session?"
Adrien pondered that for a moment.
"I'm... not sure that I am, Ms. Bustier," he ventured, tentatively. "I apologise for that."
She ignored the interesting noise that Marinette made in response to that statement.
"Well, then," Ms. Bustier declared, "you are excused, Adrien. If you feel that there is reason for you to do so, you may go have a chat with Principal Damocles. If you do not, go to the library instead and do some light reading for me. I will let your conscience be your guide there."
"Th-thank you," stammered Adrien. He gathered up his books quickly, gave Marinette a lingering last look for the moment... then scurried out the door.
Marinette raised her hand...
"No."
"No?" wondered Marinette. "I didn't even ask..."
"No, you may not follow him," the teacher insisted. "You were late once already today, sporting an injury similar to Adrien's. You then disappeared with Adrien and you both returned late. If I let you go off with him again right now, I fear that I may not see either of you again before Bastille Day. And I would have a brief word with you after class, hmmm?"
"...Yes, Ms. Bustier."
The questioning looks from Alya and Nino on one side of her, and the smugly satisfied smirk on Chloé's face on the other flew right by Marinette. Her level of distraction was enough to knock the day's lesson straight out of her mind, but she knew better than to think about asking to leave again.
"What is going on with you today?" whispered Alya. "Have you both gone crazy, or something?"
Marinette's stare remained unfocused on anything in particular. "...Maybe," she conceded. "Seems like everything else has."