I'll never forget that day.
I was just sitting there, blowing bubbles
Thinking about the injustice of it all.
Then a new location, a different time of day.
Two words I had hoped to never hear in person
Pound it!
And the slow realisation of what happened, what I did.
Then the next few days, in which everyone tries so hard to pretend that everything fine
It's not.
The reluctant explanation from Adrien, after a shy thanks.
The hesitation that follows.
A fraction of a second before sharing problems, as if worried they'll consume me again.
They won't.
I'm less involved now.
Caring, but no longer wishing to do something about his circumstances.
What could I achieve anyway?
I've noticed it happening to others too.
Alya has lost some of the fire that had her running to every akuma, in the hope of an interview with her hero.
She still cares, but it isn't the same.
It's one of the first things we bonded over in that cage while her father joined our ranks.
How, even though our respective best friends try, they don't understand.
Haven't seen the danger posed by something they once enjoyed, were passionate about.
But more and more people do.
And slowly, we become afraid of emotion itself.
I think, even when he is finally defeated, Paris will never be the same.
I don't think I'll ever blow bubbles in a park again.