Chat Noir bounded across the rooftops of Paris.
Though he was keeping a wary eye out for any nearby black limousines, the leather clad superhero was enjoying himself. The birds-eye beauty of Paris never failed to amaze him and, not for the first time, he was struck with the thought of how lucky he was to be Plagg's chosen... ironically enough.
How many people were out there that would love to be in his position? To be the beloved, powerful, leather-clad and very handsome protector of Paris? Too many to count, especially seeing as he was LB's partner in justice. Who wouldn't want to hang out with the coolest, most beautiful bugaboo alive? No one was as close to Ladybug as Chat Noir, no matter what nonsense Chloe tried to convince the press.
Last he heard, the Parisian super-duo now had fans abroad in places as far away as China, thanks to Alya's constant Ladyblog updates, and it was oddly flattering.
It was strange, really, to think that without Plagg, his life would be so different, and significantly more lonely. The Kwami's random appearance in his life had brought many new changes into his life and, though not all of them were great (the excess amount of cheese in his bag being one of them), he was glad to have so many new experiences that he hadn't been able to enjoy before Plagg permanently tucked himself into Adrien's jacket pocket. There was no way he'd have as much freedom, being Chat Noir meant that whenever anything got too much for him, he had the ability to run away, finally. He didn't have to slowly waste away in his bedroom, and he was beyond grateful.
Adrien was still thinking about what would be different if the cheese-loving mini God living in his jacket hadn't mysteriously appeared in his bedroom when he dropped into an alley and untransformed. He walked out confidently, whistling, as if Adrien Agreste hung out in alleys all the time (which he did, but if Nathalie ever found out he could always argue that 'he wasn't himself' at the time) and made his way to the main street.
Glancing around, he spotted Nino nervously messing with his hat across the road and Adrien waved excitedly as he ran over, trying to catch his friend's attention. Nino looked up in surprise.
"Hey, dude, what's up? I thought you couldn't make it?" Nino said, already smiling.
"There was a change of plans, my shoot was cancelled and I... uh... escaped before I could be rescheduled into more piano lessons or something. I wanted to support you, man." Adrien punched his friend softly on the arm, as he'd seen the other do to him countless times before. "I promised."
Nino beamed, putting a hand on Adrien's shoulder, "Thanks, dude, you don't know how much this means to me. My folks couldn't make it, some work thing came up so they're stuck there until seven-something, so there was gunna be no one till you turned up bro! You aren't gunna get in trouble for this, are you?"
Adrien gave Nino a reassuring smile, "They won't even notice I'm gone." He pulled out some sunglasses from his back pocket, putting them on his face delicately. "I got you covered, Nino. Where should I sit?"
Nino grinned like summer, his face lighting up. Absentmindedly, Adrien wondered if he should take a photo for Alya. She was always complaining that Nino never smiled in pictures, he just pulled his mouth taught and it infuriated her to no end. It would be worth it— there was always the chance she'd give him an exclusive on her next Ladybug story as a prize.
"Dude, you have to sit at the front. You wanna hear the beat so loud it feels like your eardrums are going to burst if you want the best experience. Trust me." Nino said cheerily, interrupting Adrien's line of thought.
"You just wanna make sure you can see me from the stage, don't you?"
"Agreste, I have no idea what you are talking about."
The two boys laughed and joked as they walked into the park. Uneven rows of mix-matched plastic chairs were set up in front of a temporary stage, left over from a recent music festival, that had been adapted for the competition; stage hand was setting up the final touches. On stage, a mix-deck was set up and a crude banner was hung above it that said 'Amateur DJ Freestyle Contest'. A few people milled around the chairs and stage and a few kids around their age wore badges similar to Nino's that indicated that they were a part of the competition.
"It's an old, practically ancient model, but it'll do. I'm pretty sure I can make her sing like she's Jagged Stone." Nino said, confidently, ignoring Adrien's laughter. "Me and her? We're gunna show these people the best damn remix duet they've ever heard, you know it."
Adrien settled into the last seat on the first row. Nino was full of energy, in fact he was in his element, and he settled into telling Adrien all the details of his game plan, down to the exact notes and techniques, and Adrien was more than willing to listen to him, until a bored sounding voice told the competitors to 'line up behind the stage or something'.
Nino's face instantly paled, nerves hitting him full force. He stood up, brushed off his jeans and took a deep, wobbly breath. Adrien summoned his most reassuring thumbs up and readjusted his sunglasses as Nino walked robotically to backstage, watching his friend readjust his hat ten-times over. Presumably it was so he had something to do before it was his turn, but Adrien knew Nino well enough to know it was good-luck ritual of his— apparently that cap had brought him victory before.
Adrien really hoped Nino did well, he deserved it after all the practice he'd put in. Adrien couldn't help but think of all the lunchtimes he'd seen Nino run straight to the music room, determined to practice while everyone else went home to eat. More than once since, Nino had been caught in afternoon lessons trying to eat his lunch in secret. If anything, it just proved how dedicated he was to his mix-deck and to his music. It was admirable, and to Adrien, more than a little inspiring. He hadn't been that passionate about anything before he became a hero, not even piano. With Nino, you could sit more than an ocean away and still be able to see how his whole expression lit up like a Christmas tree the minute he was making music. He was like a little light bulb made of techno, dubstep and wireless headphones.
As the commentator began to introduce the event, Adrien made himself comfortable as he could on his plastic garden chair. He was there for the long run.
—
"Stop beating yourself up, you did great!"
Nino glared at Adrien and held up his plastic medal, holding it far away like it was going to bite him. "Third place, Agreste, by two points. Have those judges ever used a mix-deck? That other guy who got silver had no idea what he was doing, what I was performing on that stage was ten times more complicated and, that girl who won? I'm pretty sure that was her dad on the judging panel. Don't get me wrong, I know it's 'don't hate the player, hate the game', and I don't want to sound like a sore loser, but I feel robbed, Adrien, robbed. Where's Ladybug and Chat Noir when I need them? I'm the victim of a crime."
Adrien smiled sympathetically and patted Nino on the back. He tried to think of something to cheer up his friend when an idea popped into his head and he excitedly tapped Nino on the arm. He said, beginning to grin, "Hey, y'know what we should do, take your mind off your almost-win—"
"ArggghhhhhhHHHHHH—"
"—we should go to the market! They have those, right? On Saturdays? It'll cheer you up!"
Adrien was trying not to vibrate with with excitement. His Dad, ever the strict parent, hardly let him out of the house: if it wasn't for modelling or school, Adrien stayed inside, so he'd never seen a Saturday Market, let alone been to one. He'd seen the things Alya and Marinette picked up from the markets at school, his favourite being a scarlet and black bracelet he'd seen Marinette wearing, and he was beyond desperate to visit one and get some souvenirs for himself. He knew he was being kind of selfish, but it was an opportunity he didn't want to miss and, anyway, he was sure Nino would enjoy it too. Besides, he was sure it would be more fun for both of them to go with a friend anyway.
Nino frowned, "I dunno, man, I really want to just go home and binge on spaghetti shapes and soda." He shrugged, "I don't really feel like staying out much longer either, I'm tired dude."
Adrien's face fell. He tried not to look upset, summoning his years of model acting talent, but he wasn't doing very well. "Uh, sure, okay, I'll... uhh... see you later then?"
Nino rubbed the back of his neck, guilt making him sweaty. He looked at Adrien's poorly disguised disappointment with guilt to rival a sinner in church. If he didn't take the poor boy everyday-people shopping he'd never forgive himself, not to mention the fact that Marinette and Alya wouldn't forgive him either. He couldn't live with that. In fact he wouldn't live- the Césaire/Dupain-Cheng combo would kill him dead the second they found out.
He coughed, "Actually, on second thought, the market sounds good. I could grab food there and I need to get my mum a present for her birthday anyway. Plus, the fresh air will probably energise me, right? It's a win-win."
Adrien's smile could've given the sun a run for its money. "Are you serious?" He smiled even wider when Nino nodded, "Okay, okay, let's go! Oh, remind me I need to stock up on cheese, do they have cheese at the market?"
"Er, yeah, sure, but dude like what is your obsession with cheese? For a model with such such a strict diet as you— I mean, come on, Marinette gave you a croissant once and your bodyguard checked it for poison— I would've thought dairy would be off the menu entirely."
"Nino, my cheese habits are my own personal business. A man's allowed to cheat his diet once in a while."
Adrien ignored the snicker that inevitably came from his pocket.
—
The market was beautiful, or at least it was to the young Agreste.
Every stall seemed to have its own vibrant personality: different matching and clashing colours were dotted all around, spices and fragrances danced around in the air and every stall owner seemed full of their own sort of happiness that they spread to each customer. Some stands were stuffed so full with merchandise that they looked fit to burst at any moment, others were so meticulously organised that Adrien almost felt compelled to check that Nathalie wasn't hanging around, secretly stacking pencil cases and animal rubbers in her lunch break. There were people everywhere, chatting and joking amongst themselves, children running in between stalls, squealing with laughter and there were countless different kinds of music blaring at each other, as if in friendly competition. Stalls were selling things from clothing to furniture, jewellery to toys and Ladybug action figures to Chat Noir clocks, which was both disturbing and hilarious to the cat himself.
It was a boisterous new world and Adrien was loving it.
Nino raised an eyebrow behind him, a smirk beginning to appear on his face. "So, where do you wanna go first man? Can't forget that cheese."
Adrien could see the cheese stall from where he was standing, and it looked like it could collapse at any minute. Cheese was piled upon cheese, which was then piled upon more cheese, and then even more, so that there were towers in front, on and behind the stall creating this strange sort of dairy barricade. On the desk of the makeshift shop itself, various different types of cheese were strewn across it: Brie, Cheddar, Wensleydale, Blue, Gouda, even Gorgonzola, but most importantly, there was Camembert, bang in the centre.
Apparently it was popular cheese around the area, because the Camembert pile was significantly larger than the rest, making it even more precarious than the rest of the cheese constructs. The product itself was mostly packaged, to prevent the particularly creamy cheese from melting in the Parisian sun, but the bare pieces had the tiny black cat in Adrien's pocket buzzing.
Adrien swallowed. He'd rather avoid the cheese-y mess over there entirely— it reeked—but he had no choice but to go over there at some point or face Plagg's petty wrath. Not to mention, if he had his own stash hidden in his room, he wouldn't look so suspicious at home, always taking Camembert from the fridge, and besides, he could already feel Plagg in his pocket trying to drag him towards the lactose-dairy hell. He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve.
"No, it's okay, I'll leave it for now. Let's look for a scarf for your mum first, then I'll go get some cheese. We can go look around for other stuff after? I've been meaning to get a new umbrella."
Nino shrugged in response, "Sure, man, I'm cool with whatever."
The boys started walking towards another stall, one covered with beautiful hand-made scarves, neither noticing the small black, vaguely cat-shaped blob escaping from Adrien's jacket and making a beeline for the cheese stall.
The small blob cackled. — Plagg shot out of Adrien's pocket like a cat on a mission. He was going to eat all of that Camembert, every single piece, that'd show Adrien. Adrien couldn't stop him, Adrien didn't even know that he'd left.
Adrien was powerless. Plagg was unstoppable.
Slowly, so as not to draw attention to himself, Plagg hovered up the side of the stacks, keeping an eye on the stall vendor: a plump, happy-looking man who was currently serving a customer. The poor guy had no idea what his entirely too enticing cheese stall had wrought; really, it was a compliment that Plagg had chosen to ravish his particular market stall, but that didn't mean the guy had to know how flattered he should be right this second. He'd know once he found three cheese wheels missing.
After looking around, he spotted the perfect place to begin his feast: a small gap between two of the towers (one being the Camembert, obviously) that would hide him, but give him a good view of the street so he could spy on the people going by. He might as well have some entertainment whilst eating.
Plagg settled delicately into the crevice, peeling back the foil casing as he began to pull hefty chunks out of the gourd, humming happily at the pure, heavenly taste. It didn't matter that he could technically eat anything rotting to effectively replenish his power, Camembert was the best and it always would be, there was no competition. Ambrosia paled in comparison.
Absentmindedly, he turned towards the road to see if there was anything interesting going on. At first glance, all he could see was a couple of alleyways and the pavement, but then he heard something familiar, like a humming under his skin. His senses perked. He saw a flash of red dash from one alley to the next.
Plagg blinked and shook his head; that couldn't be right, there was no way that that was—
Another flash of red.
Plagg nearly spat out his cheese. That was impossible. She couldn't be here. He looked closer, trying to focus on the alley. A red spotted head poked out nervously from behind a dustbin, two antennae wriggling with nerves.
Plagg barely restrained his gasp, accidentally spraying cheese everywhere as he coughed out his shock.
"Tikki?"
