Takahogi is overjoyed to see her again, to the point that Chloe's embarrassed. But she can't stop the smile from growing on her face as he worries over her and forces her to sit in the tatami room as he makes her a quick breakfast so she doesn't go to school hungry.
"How are you doing now?" he asks, setting down a plate of fruit and eggs, "A week can be a long time."
Chloe shrugs. "Better than I was. Chat helped me out yesterday, so I'm feeling ready to take on the day."
"He is a good friend."
"I guess." Chloe bites into an apple slice to try to hide her smile, but judging by the way Takehogi's eyes crinkle with amusement, it's not working. She gives in. "He's pretty great. I'm glad he's my friend, even though I looked down on him last year."
"And why is that?"
"Because he's not Ladybug."
He nods, because it is a valid point. Everyone looks to Ladybug, then waits for other heroes to be the same. Of course Chat Noir isn't Ladybug; he's Chat. No one is meant to be the same. No hero can save the day in the same way. The heroes of Paris work together so well because they are different. Chat has his own strengths, and it's something not enough people see. It's something Chloe didn't see.
She used to proclaim that she was Ladybug's Number One Fan, but she hasn't focused on Ladybug for a long time. Perhaps it's time to be Chat Noir's Number One Fan. Someone out there needs to tell the world how great he is, and it might as well be her.
Takehogi takes a sip of tea, then sets the cup down. "I am glad," he says, a kind smile on his face, "That you two have found each other. True friends are hard to find. Be sure to keep him close."
"As if he could get rid of me now," Chloe says, and finishes up her breakfast.
Takehogi insists on washing the dishes since he's the one who cooked, so Chloe instead decides to sweep the floors of the shop so he doesn't have to. She'll do the same when school's over. Kindness is best repaid in kindness, after all.
She sweeps every inch of the store, piling up dirt and leaves and petals in the dustpan to dump in the trash. The repetitive motions of moving the broom back and forth, wandering around the store, sink into her body. She feels heavy; she feels here. Not drifting away, barely real, disconnected from her body. No, Chloe is here, sweeping the store, her sanctuary, in the early morning when the sunlight still glows gold.
The plants that line the store are well and thriving. Large, dark leaves rich with color hang down into the small aisles. Flowers are slowly beginning to open their blossoms to greet the sun. Bright reds and yellows and white and blues spark vibrancy among the sea of green that surrounds her.
All these flowers, and still Chloe cannot remember which one her mother most loved. SO she looks to which colors fill her with joy, which petals are soft and peaceful, which leaves are vibrant and lovely.
There has to be some kind of etiquette dictating what flowers to bring to a grave, but Chloe doesn't care much for it. What matters is that the flowers are for her mother. That's all.
Still, it's hard to find one, even after wandering the store as she sweeps, peering between leaves to see the flowers usually hidden from view. So she sweeps, and keeps sweeping, looking and finding nothing.
Takahogi emerges from the back with his usual apron tied on. He picks up both his and Chloe's watering cans, then gestures for her to come over.
"You've swept everything off the floors. Don't get too caught up in it or you'll forget to look up."
Immediately, Chloe looks up and straightens her back from where it had been hunched over as she swept away dirt and looked through the shelves of plants. She's a little embarrassed, so used to having perfect posture, always straight-spined and unmovable. Hunching over like that must have made her look so bad, how awful.
"Right, I'll try to remember that," she says, putting the broom and dustpan away behind the cash register's counter.
He fills up his watering can, then Chloe's, and sends her off to the section of perennials to begin watering them. She checks the soil of each pot, testing for moisture to determine how much water each plant needs. Her fingers are lightly coated in dirt, something she would have hated just half a year ago, but now it's a comforting feeling, pushing her fingers into something that holds so much life. It's also why she's taken to keeping her nails short; though she can't get the manicures she's always liked, it's better than having dirt stuck under her nails.
Chloe carefully lifts the heavy watering can and watches the water sink into the soil. When she first began all this, it was hard to lift and carry something so heavy. Now, it's easy. Instinctual almost. She's ashamed of how weak she let herself get, how weak she still allows herself to be.
Barely eating for a week, now that's going to do a lot of damage to her body. Chloe sighs and moves onto the next plant, beginning to plan how she'll build up her appetite again. Maybe start with small meals. Fruits and vegetables, eggs and bread. Build up to larger, more extravagant meals, the ones she used to eat before her world came crashing down around her and she hit rock bottom.
Part of her wants to skip straight to sweets; cakes and cookies and ice cream, but Chloe has been dieting and watching what she eats for years. Healthy food first until she can eat three full meals a day again, then she can indulge a bit.
Maybe Takehogi can help her figure out what to eat. Maybe she can take the risk and ask Chef Cesair for help regarding her meals. Maybe -
Chloe freezes.
She pulls the watering can back up slowly, breaking off the flow of water, and sets it down gently. There, the next pot over, were flowers.
A blue dark enough to be violet, soft petals gently rounded, bunched up together in a stem climbing upwards.
Blue delphiniums.
Chloe picks up the pot and runs to the cash register, where she places the pot on the counter.
"Takehogi!" she calls, feeling jittery and happy, like sunshine and blue flowers are blossoming in her chest. "Takehogi, I need to ask you for a favor!"
He hurries to the counter, watering can abandoned on the floor behind him. "What is it Chloe? Is something wrong?"
She shakes her head. "No, no, I just need a bouquet of these. Or maybe just a single stem. Either works. I was looking for flowers to take to my mother, and these are perfect!"
"And not the whole pot?"
"I don't think cemeteries allow that sort of thing," Choe replies, considering. It would be nice if she could plants flowers around her mother's grave, bring life back to it. Create something beautiful to remember her by. But the grass in the cemetery was cleanly cut and cared for, pristine under attentive care. Cemeteries typically don't have flower gardens in them. Chloe wishes she could change that, for her mother and every other half-remembered name, just as a way of saying that people are still thinking of the dead.
Takehogi is silent as Chloe thinks. He's still, looking a little shocked, a little heartbroken.
Oh, Chloe thinks. I haven't told him about my mother yet, have I.
She deflates a little. The excitement dwindles and disappears. She always hates these conversations.
"It's fine. My mother died when I was very young. It doesn't matter much anymore. I just. I don't know. I just wanted to visit her and leave her flowers, since I haven't done that in years."
Takehogi gently takes hold of the flower pot and draws it closer to him. "A bouquet, then," he says decisively. There's a strange look on his face, a mix of pity and understanding. Sympathy even. Longing.
He sets to work as Chloe watches him. Her eyes are on his hands, watching as he cuts and bundles the stems with care, wrapping everything with decorating paper. But her mind is stuck on his expression, wondering why it's so different from the usual pity.
"To remember those we lost, despite the pain it brings, is a very kind thing, Chloe." Takehogi's voice is subdued. It makes Chloe feel as though she's swallowed a cold stone. "Though the dead have long left us, they were a part of our lives. They helped shape who we are. Those memories are precious. Take care of them Chloe, before they fade away to time."
It clicks, then.
Takehogi, who is old with a face lined with age and hands that tremble and aches and pain that accompany his every movement. Takehogi who lived in Japan and brought peace to the suffering with his flowers. Takehogi, who had nothing to keep him in his home. Takehogi, who came to Paris alone and lived alone.
Takehogi, who must have lost many people he loved in the war, and left the place of his childhood, left the memories and came here. Takehogi, who can't visit their grave, if such graves even exist.
Chloe is suddenly hit by the thought that she doesn't know him very well at all. She doesn't really know anyone. If he could hold all this pain in him and live without anyone knowing, what is the rest of the world hiding? She's been so focused on her own suffering that she's forgotten to look around and realize that every faces trials and hardship in their lives. Everyone has lost and endured that pain. Everyone hides their worst under their best and just try to get through the day.
Though she doesn't really know anyone else, she doesn't want to know them. No, Chloe wants to know Takehogi, listen to his stories of a childhood in a different country, in a different time, and all the people who have been a part of his life. She wants to make the effort to get to know the person who took her in and gave her a place to grow and made her remember what family feels like.
"I will," Chloe promises, "I'll never forget the people in my life."
Takehogi hands the bouquet of delphiniums to her with a wistful smile, and sends her on her way. "Take care not to be late to school!" he calls out after her as she walks down the street.
"I'll be fine!" Chloe shouts back, turning around to wave him goodbye.
She holds the bouquet carefully in her grasp, taking care not to crush the stems or lose any of the flowers. The sun is warm against her skin, but in the distance she can see dark clouds heavy with the promise of rain.
Though these flowers wouldn't have lasted long under the sun anyways, Chloe hopes the rain doesn't destroy them completely before the day is done.
How sad it would be for her first gift to her mother in years to be destroyed so easily.
The wind is still weak, just a gentle breeze blowing past her, so Chloe hopes that the rain won't come at all.
The cemetery gates are open when she arrives, but the place is empty. It's quieter in here, the sounds of cars barely audible past the trees that line the cemetery and separate it from the rest of Paris. In the daylight, the cemetery looks brighter and kinder; the grass is still wet with dew and easily gives way underneath her feet. The headstones are weather worn but still cared for. There are no weeds she can see, and many angels stand towering over the graves of the deceased.
Chloe finds her way to her mother's grave more easily in the light. It's not as worn down as others, but it's clear that no one's been there for quite some time. The angel is grey and worn, traces of past rainstorms left on its cheeks like teartracks. Her mother's name is still legible, but Chloe can't bring herself to look at it for too long.
There's a half hour left before school starts, but Chloe wants to hurry and get to class before Marinette arrives, just to avoid her a little longer. She lays the bouquet down carefully, hoping it doesn't get blown away should the storm reach Paris, then leaves with a quick goodbye to her mother.
The blue of the delphiniums stands out against the green and grey of the cemetery, brings more color and life into the place. A few other graves hold flowers as well, signs that someone still cares for the people six feet under, still loves them. Chloe looks back to her mother's grave, and feels something in her chest loosen at the vibrant splash of blue at the base of the headstone.
Now the world will know her mother is still loved.
Adrien is already at school, waiting by the main doors for the rest of his group to arrive. He frowns at his phone, typing something out, then sighs. He's so focused, he doesn't notice Chloe until she pinches his ear.
He shrieks, jumping back with his hand pressed against his chest, looking shocked and offended. "WHO AND WHY - oh, it's you!"
Chloe can't help but laugh at his reaction. "Wimp," she says, then settles against the wall next to him. "What's got you frowning so early in the morning? You know you can't get wrinkles if you wanna keep modeling."
"Well, maybe I want to be a wrinkly old man at the age of sixteen."
"Modeling for the seniors?"
"If I look super old, I could be the art director of every shoot and force people to cosplay my favorite characters."
Chloe knocks her shoulder into his, roughly, as he cackles evilly, and says, "For your own sake, don't do that or I'll punt you out a window."
He waves her words away, and the smile quickly falls from his face. "You've been out for a while. Are you doing okay?"
"Doing better now than before," Chloe shrugs. "I was in a really bad place, but Chat Noir helped me out of it."
"Yeah? That's good to hear." The smile is back on Adrien's face, relieved and… proud? He's not subtle at all, but Chloe is determined to ignore everything so she doesn't have to Deal With It. As long as nothing's confirmed, Chloe can believe whatever she wants and not fight Adrien for being the way he is.
Chloe purses her lips and looks away. "It was. He helped me break into a cemetery to visit my mother's grave. I went again this morning to leave her some flowers, but I'm worried that they'll be ruined if it rains today."
"I'm sure things will work out!"
"I hope so." Chloe sighs and rocks on her heels. She hates having to do this so much, make Adrien worry about her constantly, but she just keeps getting worse. "I'm sorry if I worried you last week. I still haven't turned on my phone, so I have no idea what I've missed."
Adrien shakes his head and tosses an arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about that. You're here now, aren't you?"
"I guess so. Anyways, I'm gonna go in and try to figure out what I've missed last week."
"If you need help with anything, let me know! I can tutor you!"
Shrugging off his arm, Chloe offers him a grin. "I'm sure you can, but don't underestimate my need to be better than everyone else!"
Just as she leaves, Chloe catches sight of Alya and Nino walking hand in hand through the gates. While they both immediately head towards Adrien, who waves at them with large, eye-catching movements, Alya keeps her gaze on Chloe.
No doubt Marinette's told her about their confrontation last week. No doubt they both twisted her words to make her into the bad guy again. She really is irredeemable to them. Chloe leaves Alya's line of sight as quickly as possible, going inside where the walls of the buildings can hide her.
Chloe can feel people staring at her, their gazes like ants crawling over her skin. She carefully keeps her shoulders back, eyes focused on the end of the hallway where she won't make eye contact with anyone. It's unnerving, being back after a week of isolation and silence. Even though there isn't a ton of people crowding the halls yet, it's more people than she's comfortable with.
They must all be staring at her after her week-long disappearance.
As quickly as she can, without making it look like she's running, Chloe makes it to her classroom and drops into her seat. In the front, it's easy to ignore the people behind her, but paranoia insists that they, too, are watching her every move.
She wants to scratch off her skin, dissolve into nothing and escape this place. It's hard to believe she's survived half a semester already when each month feels like a new eternity of torment.
Whatever. It's going to take a hell of a lot more than this to kill her.
Chloe pulls her notebook out of her bag, alongside a pen that she thought she lost to the abyss of her bag weeks ago, and flips to the last page she wrote on. The messy scrawl of her handwriting is full of blanks where she zoned out to think about Chat before Marinette told her to stop moving.
(Just the memory makes her heart drop. Her throat is tight and her lungs aren't getting enough air. How is she going to handle this?)
She barely remembers the things she took notes on. No doubt she's far, far behind the rest of the class. Even if she wasn't, it's not as though she ever had a shot at being the best in class. That was always Sabrina. Chloe isn't that smart or studious. If she tries, maybe she'll get average grades, but she knows they're nothing to brag about.
Lycee was supposed to be something new, yet it's the same thing over and over again. The only difference is that she has to go through it alone.
Sighing, Chloe flips to a new page and aimlessly drags her pen around the surface, doodling cats and flowers and stars. Her nerves don't get any better, but she gets used to it. There isn't much else she can do, after all.
A glance at the clock tells her that class starts in ten minutes. That means ten more minutes alone before Marinette gets here.
The classroom door is thrown open violently the moment she thinks that. Marinette stands in the doorway, panting a bit, cheeks flushed, looking panicked and relieved at the same time.
"Chloe!" she gasps out.
Or I can deal with her now, Chloe thinks, dread pooling in the bottom of her stomach.
Marinette looks to the back of the classroom, where the other early students are, and bites her lip. She waves at them sheepishly, visibly growing more nervous, before making her way to her seat.
She sits and doesn't look at Chloe. She just fiddles with anything near her - sleeves, pens, papers, bag, anything she can reach.
Chloe wonders if she scared Marinette so much when they talked. Wonders if she went a little too far when defending Sabrina and trying to prove her own innocence. If Marinette can't even look at her, Chloe must have made things between them worse. So much for keeping her distance and ignoring everyone but Adrien.
Marinette takes a deep breath, then turns to her.
"Chloe," she says, voice quiet, "I'm really sorry for what I said last week. Can we talk more during lunch? I want to properly apologize to you."
What.
What.
She doesn't know how to react. Of all the things she was expecting Marinette to say, that wasn't one of them. That wasn't even in the realm of possibility. And yet, here is Marinette, remorseful and earnest, waiting for a response with wide, hopeful eyes.
Her throat is tight. She's not sure if she can get any words out. Chloe is too shocked to even think clearly.
Marinette wants to properly apologize. As if just saying sorry isn't enough. She could have just apologized quickly without meaning it and left the whole thing behind them. It's what Chloe would have done. But no, Marinette has always been better than that. She wants to properly apologize because just saying the words isn't enough for her.
Had it been anyone else, Chloe wouldn't have believed them. Would have lashed out for pretending to care about her and done her best to keep them away from her. But Marinette is nothing if not honest.
Here she sits, scared and hopeful in equal measure, waiting for a response. She's everything Chloe wants to be; how could she hate Marinette?
Chloe looks away. She keeps her eyes focused on her notebook and desperately tries to keep them dry. "Okay," she says, voice weak and barely above a whisper.
But Marinette hears her and brightens up. From the corner of her eye, Chloe can see Marinette smile at her, so bright and lovely.
"Okay," Marinette repeats, "We'll talk more at lunch then."
They sit in silence until class starts. The other students chatter amongst themselves until the teacher calls for their attention. Marinette works diligently besides her, writing nonstop, completely focused. Chloe can't hear much over her heartbeat in her ears, just mindlessly copies down the words written on the board and hopes it makes sense later.
She wants to be back at the flower shop with Takehogi desperately. He would know what to say to her. He would help her think all this through and give her the advice she'd need to deal with it.
All Marinette is going to do is apologize to her again. That's it. Despite knowing that, her nerves make her stomach cramp up, hearing the words Marinette spit at her last week ring around her head. She knows it's going to be different this time, but she can't help but be apprehensive. What if she messes it up again?
Chloe wants to run away, but never facing this means it'll haunt her until it's over. She has gone through so much already. She can't let herself be afraid of this too.
Lunch comes far too quickly. Everyone is quick to leave the classroom, disappearing through the door until it's just her and Marinette left. Chloe takes her time packing, hoping the slight tremble of her hands isn't visible. Marinette waits patiently besides her desk, hands clutching the strap of her bag.
"Do you want to get lunch with me?" Marinette asks the moment Chloe stands up.
"Don't you usually eat with Alya and the others?"
Marinette shrugs. "They can survive a day without me. You don't have to eat with me, though! I just didn't want to take up your time and keep you from eating."
"I don't mind," Chloe says. It's not like she planned to get lunch from the canteen. She barely ate lunch anyways, but she would have to if she wants to fix her appetite.
"Alright, let's go!" Marinette grins and leads them out of the classroom. When they leave the school, the sky is covered in dark clouds and the wind has picked up considerably. There's a chill in the air that brings goosebumps onto Chloe's arms with each gust of wind.
She can only hope that the delphiniums at her mother's grave are okay.
Marinette leads Chloe to a small cafe just a few streets away, small and cozy looking with only a few people in it. The quiet inside the cafe is comforting. Each customer is minding their own business. No one looks at her. It's just her and Marinette is a little bubble of privacy that couldn't exist at school.
They each pay for their own food, because Chloe has more than enough money to buy them lunch for years and refuses to accept Marinette's money. An apology is more than enough.
Once they're both settled at a table in the corner, by one of the large windows, Marinette begins talking.
"Chloe, I am so, so sorry about what I said last week. I went to far. You've done nothing to me, or anyone at all, this school year but I refused to believe what I saw and went after you for nothing. You changed and I knew you did, but I didn't want to believe it. And that's my fault. You did nothing wrong here." Marinette stops to take a breath, her hands folded in her lap. She keeps her eyes downcast, focused on the edge of the table. "I'm sorry for everything I said. If there's anything I can do to make it up for you, please let me know."
Marinette is so sincere that it hurts. There's so much she wants to say, but Chloe doesn't know where to start. She looks outside to the dark clouds to gather her thoughts, trying to unravel the knot of emotions she feels.
"It's not that big of a deal," Chloe says, "You had every right to think what you did. I've been horrible to you in the past, I know, so you had every reason not to trust me. You definitely didn't have to apologize so much, either. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry for everything I did to you. I'm jealous and bitter and I'm no good at being nice. I'm sorry that I took it out on you."
"You don't have to apologize, Chloe, it's in the past -"
"That doesn't change the fact that it happened. I know it's late, but an apology now is better than none at all, right?"
Marinette smiles, that special warm one she reserves only for her friends, and says, "Call it even then? We were both horrible to each other. How about we start over?"
"Sounds good to me." Chloe holds out her hand across the table, and Marinette grabs it without hesitation. "I'm Chloe. I'm bitter and jealous and protective of things I care about. I like flowers and rain and care too much about my appearance."
Shaking her hand, Marinette says, "I'm Marinette. I spend too much time daydreaming and drawing, bake better than I talk, and never know when to stop. I am too competitive and will hurt people to win and I eat too many cookies. It's nice to meet you again."
"You too. We should probably eat now and try to get back to school before it rains."
"Sounds like a plan!"
Sitting there, across from Marinette in a small cafe with the promise of rain hanging in the air outside, Chloe feels herself relax. This went far better than she expected, and Chloe can't help but be grateful for Marinette's large heart.
Maybe a year in the same class as Marinette won't be so bad after all.
Chloe smiles, and eats all her lunch. Not for a single second does she think that she doesn't deserve this.