Chapter 2: Promise


A silver spoon clinked against the glass bowl, scooping up an insignificant portion of tiramisu gelato. Claire brought the cold yet savory spoonful to her lips. The creamy texture melted in her mouth like butter, as it always did, but her palette couldn't distinguish the sweetness. Claire hardly tasted her favorite gelato flavor as she stared uneasy at the company in front of her. Adrien Agreste, whom upon recent discovery was inadvertently Chat Noir, sat across from her also appearing detached from his dessert. The two teenagers sat in a contemplative silence, each taking conservative bites of their velvety treats.

"Geez, Adrien. Could you be a more talkative date?" She heard the black creature speak sarcastically from his pocket.

"This isn't a date…" he spoke low, shifting his emerald hues across the expanse of the gelato pallor for unwanted ears. He furrowed his blonde brows and added with a private voice; "This is kinda serious."

"Serious smerious! You wanna get this over with, you gotta be direct. Watch," the talking soot ball wiggled from out of his pocket, and floated covertly underneath the table to Claire's side. Taking stealth next to her thigh, he patted her for added affect; "Psst. Listen girly, you want some cheese? We've got a lot. We can give you a life-time supply if yah promise to keep this on the down low, kay?"

"U-Um," Claire wriggled her hands against her lap, feeling her palms perspire and pulse beat at her wrists. "I'm sorry but I…don't think I need a life-time supply of cheese."

The surreal creature appeared stunned at her rejection, and perhaps a bit personally insulted. Mumbling a few words to itself, it floated back underneath the table to settle discreetly at Adrien's side.

"She's a tough one to crack," it nodded definitively with crossed arms.

"I can't believe you tried to bribe her with cheese," Adrien pinched his nose out of palpable frustration before releasing on a heavy sigh. Setting aside his gelato, he clasped his hands together against the table, "Claire, I want to be honest with you. I have no idea what to do in this situation."

During his confession, Adrien hushed at the sight of a pair of school-aged girls passing the table, clinging and giggling to each other as they caught sight of him. Adrien smiled politely out of acknowledgment before returning to his previous conversation, "Until I figure out what to do I need you to promise me, and I mean promise me, that you can keep this a secret."

Claire lowered her sight at the tiramisu gelato melting into a puddle of cream in her bowl. Her golden hues shifted to the side, capturing the fan letter sitting dolefully beside her on the booth seat.

The same letter she wanted to give Chat Noir with all her heart—no mater what.

Yet, now it all seemed a bit complicated and out of the scope of her plans. The boy sitting across from her wasn't Chat Noir; just a random classmate she rarely spoke to. Claire wondered who was most authentic, the princely high-school idol and model or the full-of-life hero with a heart of gold.

Which one was his real self? Claire had no idea, and that fact alone, made her heart weigh like stone in her chest.

"I promise…" her lips parted to allow hollow words to be heard. All this time her admiration may have been given towards a false persona—she held back these thoughts. Claire could feel a disappointing wetness behind her eyes. She shook her head lightly to dismiss them before forcing herself to meet Adrien's gaze, "you have my word."

"Thank you, I really appreciate this," his features relaxed, which brought upon a genuine smile. Unfortunately, for Claire that smile didn't compare to the one Chat Noir gave her that rainy day. It hardly stirred her this time around—how could they be the same person? Adrien cleared his throat before speaking again, "I know my friend Plagg here tried to bribe you with cheese but if there's actually something that you want, I can get it for you—"

"You don't have to give me anything for me to keep a secret," Claire interrupted as politely as she could. Although it may have been partially forced, she pressed a smile against her lips, "just keep being our hero and protecting Paris," Claire turned her head away to keep Adrien from noticing anything insincere from her. "That's all I really want."

"That sounds easy-peasy enough, right, Adrien?" The black creature known as Plagg piped up.

"Yeah," Adrien spoke thoughtfully, somewhat out of surprise. "Well, either way…thanks for making this promise."

Claire paused, wondering if the pool of gelato in her cup would overflow, "You're welcome."


"Papa lied to us, Noir."

Claire heaved a forlorn sigh, plopping onto her bed with the kitten in her hands. Noir began to playfully chew and toss at her strands of hair flayed at her chest. The teenager took solace in gracing her hand against its plush black fur; even if it was mild, it brought Claire some comfort. She was only taken from her rhythmic petting when her pink cellular buzzed against her pillowcase. Reaching for it, the teen didn't bother to read the caller ID.

"Hey, Nathan," Claire answered expectantly.

"Wow, someone might be telepathic," Nathanael remarked with hilarity, which brought but a mute smile to her lips. "But I guess you we're waiting for me to call, since you know what I'm about to ask you," there was a pause before Nathanael continued; "I saw Ladybug and Chat Noir on the news near your house earlier. Did you go see him and give him the letter?"

"Not at all," Claire replied with unwanted heaviness, placing a hand over her warmed forehead. "I tried but…"

"But what?" Nathaniel pressed on. "What happened?"

"I…" Claire's mouth became stiff and rigid. Her words stumbled to the back of her throat and fell to the pit of her stomach. She swallowed the last of her hesitation before finding a plausible explanation as an excuse, "I wasn't able to get there in time…you know I'm a slowy."

"Ah, that stinks," her best friend clicked his tongue in dismay, joining Claire in solidarity, "I'm sure you'll have another chance. It's a really cute card—hold on to it, okay?"

"I will, Nathan." She smiled willfully to herself. "Thank you for helping me out. You really are my best friend."

"Oh, come on, Claire. You don't have to thank me for being your best friend—you help me a lot too," he commented back with a crack of shyness in his voice. "Speaking of which, are you still down to study for the next chemistry exam tomorrow?"

"Of course; when I help you it actually helps me better understand the material," Claire spoke with elevated interest, knowing well it would serve as a good distraction for the day to come. "Do you think we could go to our favorite café near school instead of the library?"

"Sounds like a plan," Nathanael agreed eagerly. "Just stop me from pulling out my sketchbook. You know I get crazy inspiration in that place."

Claire giggled at the true statement, "remember the last time you brought it with us? I spilled my latte all over it by accident."

"Don't remind me," Nathaniel groaned in mock despair. "You do know I had to steal my mom's hair dryer for two hours to nicely dry out all the pages you stained, right? You can only imagine what my dad was thinking," Claire laughed at the image in her mind and Nathanael could only playfully chastise her, "Never mind, I think I'll just leave it at school and pick it up after. I can't risk it when it comes to you and coffee cups."

"That might be best," she hummed before she broke into a yawn. "Alrighty, Nathan. I'm going to bed now so have a good night."

"Night, Claire. See you tomorrow."

Beep.

Claire flopped her phone against the bed. She stared with star-crossed eyes at the painted mural of the Milky Way across her bedroom ceiling. With one hand occupied by a restless kitten, the other extended as far as she could stretch in front of her. Her fingers curled and uncoiled; reaching to grasp the glowing moon for what seemed only a few inches out of reach.

"I wish you could tell me what it's like out there," she breathed a solemn tune, picturing her father in her minds eye, "Rocket man."


Butterflies?

Claire stood in an abyss of darkness; below her feet was an expanse of stars and moons. They twinkled like waning city lights, and when they gathered at the surface, the stars grew wings. Delicate fluttering wings beating against the black air and rising into the open void above her. Claire could only watch in captivation at the surreal spectacle. Curious fingers ventured to touch them as they passed; one then two, but her fingers seemed to slip right through. Should she follow them? Her feet spoke before words ever could. The ground beneath her rippled with every step she took. This parade of white butterflies became her guiding lights. There in the distance, something began to frighten them. They stirred and staggered away; there was someone else here. Someone the butterflies desperately wanted to flee. With her eyes shrouded in darkness, she couldn't make out the figure—but she felt it. Claire began to hear the voice of an older man; it sounded as if he was sobbing. Between his cries there was a chant of a particular name. A name of someone dear and sweet, but seemed very distant now.

"Emi…lie."

What a pretty name, Claire thought. Yet, it was spoken with such sadness, it brought tears to her eyes. She couldn't help them as they fell helplessly down her cheeks. Without her intention, her tears dripping onto the floor below caught the attention of the other entity.

"Whose there?" The voice beckoned angrily, yet waved with remorse. "What do you want with me?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know where I am but…" she tried to quiet her own hiccups by wiping away at the syrupy tears clinging to her bottom eyelids. "You sound so sad."

"And you sound naïve, little girl." The voice came swiftly. "Now, leave me be…it seems you're not supposed to be here."

"If that's the case…" Claire began hesitantly, chocked on what to say. "Then does that mean you're supposed to be here?"

"Yes," the answer was forthright. "This is my dream after all."

A dream? Claire hadn't realized it before. Becoming more aware of her surroundings, those words carried reason to her. So, this place was a dream, but not of her own. If that was the case, then whose dream did this belong to? Before she could gather more answers, her vision began to fade, as did her present consciousness. Claire was disappearing and there was nothing she could do.

"Claire, sweet heart. You need to wake up."

Claire heard soft words spoken by her mother. Like arms, they reached through the unconscious world and pulled her back to her bedroom. Her eyes had been shut closed, and glued together by the remnant of tears still collected at her eyes. Claire had to force them open, and she stared blearily at her mother hovering above her.

"Mama," Claire croaked, as if she had sobbing for hours.

"Honey, is everything alright?" Concern came swiftly as her mother took a seat at the edge of the bed. Her paternal instincts examined her daughter's weary features, and glanced down at the cutely signed envelope of her love letter. With a soft smile, Mrs. MacLiam brought it to her view before tending loving eyes down at her only daughter; "Was this the letter you were supposed to give to that cat boy you admire so much?"

"I don't…" Claire felt heaviness in her chest, but now, she couldn't understand why. Yes, yesterday night had been dismaying but it wasn't enough for her to unravel. She knew she was much too old to cry over boys; or at least she knew she shouldn't. She rubbed the remaining drops from her eyes before shaking her head, "No, mama. It's not that but—I guess I had a bad dream."

Claire wasn't sure; she couldn't remember. She could only feel it deep in her chest wall. What could it have been?

"As long as you're alright, sweetheart," her mother rubbed Claire' arms gingerly. "I'll drive you to school this morning so you won't be late. So let's hurry and get ready, okay?'

"Yes, mama."

Claire watched her mother; still gowned in her nightshift scrubs, leave her bedroom. The young teen groaned and rubbed her forehead, guilty for having her mother drop her off at school. She knew twelve hours at the hospital was tiring; and Claire never wanted her mother to over work herself. She was perfectly happy walking and taking the local transit. With a sigh, Claire accepted fault and rose from her bed, mildly cursing her phone alarm for not doing its job.


"Claire, could we talk for a second?"

At the sound of her name, Claire spun around on her flats before reaching the schools main entrance. Gripping her tote bag in fright, she gulped when her golden hues graced ones resembling spring meadows. For an insignificant moment, Chat Noir came to her forethoughts. Warmth had gathered at her cheeks and Claire merely turned away to hide the embarrassing sight.

"I promise I haven't told anyone about yesterday," she spoke quickly, tucking a shy strand of caramel hair behind her ear.

"I believe you," Adriene responded kindly, which eased the tension in her shoulders. "I just wanted to ask if you had any plans after school?"

"I'm supposed to study chemistry with Nathanael today," Claire answered truthfully. "How come?'

"Well, the thing is, there's someone who I want you to meet," Adrien spoke with a hint of no transparency. "I can't tell you everything right now but…I think this person can help." Adrien's gaze bore into Claire with urgency, and hopefulness to her compliance. When Claire couldn't find the words to reply immediately, Adriene took a step forward and placed a hand upon her shoulder; "I'm sorry for asking a lot. This'll be the last thing I'm going to ask from you, I swear it."

Claire dipped her chin and gave a meek nod, "Alright, I'll let Nathaneal know then."

"Thanks a lot Claire," Adrien blew out a sigh of relief. Rummaging through his pocket, he pulled out his cellular. "Let's exchange phone numbers, just in case."

Claire awkwardly took the phone and input her information.

"Perfect," with a simple smile and wave of his hand, he began to walk the steps in front of them. "See you later, Claire. I'll text you before school ends to let you know where we can meet."

Reluctantly, Claire waved back. She methodically waited for Adriene to gain a head start to class; she didn't want to appear too chummy and garner unwanted attention. It wasn't necessary; today would be the last time they would speak and be seen so casually together. Gradually, Claire made it to class and sat at her usual spot next to Nathanael during homeroom. Without her intention, Claire released a palpable sigh, which Nathanael could notice even while doodling in his sketchbook.

"Someone sounds tense," Nathaneal commented as he took a brief sideways glance at her. Continuing to sketch his ideas out on paper, he delved to further their conversation, "Let me guess, you're not going to be able to study after school, right?"

Claire groaned and rested her sulking face into her palms, "How are you this good at reading people?"

"I'm a sensitive kind of guy. Which means I'm in tune with everyone's emotions; I can read their every thought," Nathanael spoke with mock grandiosity. He briefly chuckled, shaking his head lightly at his own response, "Honestly, you're usually never upset so I just decided to guess."

"I'm really sorry, Nathaneal." Claire apologized. "I'll make it up to you."

"That's alright," Nathaneal smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure whatever else you have to do is probably more important."

"Are you still going to study though?"

"Not a chance."

Nathaneal laughed and so did she, knowing fully well he'd spend his time drawing instead.


Cherry wood stairs creaked achingly beneath her feet. Slowly, and with much reproach, Claire stared insistently at Adrien's back. With each step they took up the stairs of the residential quarters, the louder her heat beat within her chest. The third floor appeared, and Adrien reigned his pace in front of a particular apartment unit. With an odd look about the teen boy, his eyes beckoned her closer, "We're here," Adrien cleared his throat, before tentatively knocking against the front door.

"Come in, it is open," came a sage-like voice, riddled from a distant time and land.

The teens motioned themselves inside. Claire was greeted by the warm air wafting in from the large veranda window open to all of Paris. Timeless Chinese knick-knacks and green florals decorated the quaint apartment, bringing a sense of mysticism. In the middle of the living room, Claire's enchanted eyes fell upon an older gentleman, adorned in plain islander clothes and taking thoughtful sips of his afternoon tea. The scent of ginseng was immediate, and calmed her senses as she tailed dolefully behind Adrien.

"Master Fu," Adrien bowed according to the man's title. "I have something important to talk to you about."

Claire gasped, witnessing a doll-like green character whiz into the air. A horrified expression crossed it's peculiar features, with it's small appendages flailing about, "Master Fu! What has Adrien done? To have brought some stranger here could only mean-"

"Wayzz, I understand what it means," the older man breathed out a breath of ginseng tea. Slowly, his aged eyes shifted, creasing slightly at the pair. Although the air was thickened with heavy connotations, the older man smiled gently, deepening the lines of his face, "Please, have a seat with me...both of you."

Adrien nodded stiffly, and Claire followed suit. At the opposite end of the coffee table, the teens sat upon their folded knees. Claire swallowed hard, noticing Adrien's hands balled tightly against his thighs; body language tortured with anticipation. Claire was beginning to understand that perhaps, her knowledge would soon have consequences.

"Master Fu, I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do, so I brought her here," Adrien couldn't help the guilty verbiage spew from his mouth.

"You know," Master Fu began, methodically taking his warmed teapot and pouring himself another cup. "This tea is one of my favorites. The flavor is subtle, but you can taste the notes of root and honey." Lifting his gaze, he motioned the teapot in their direction, "Here, let me brew another pot for you two. Tea is always better with company."

"Master Fu, it's fine, we don't-"

Before Adrien could finish, Master Fu picked himself up with a few cracks and pops in his knees. With a humming tune, he shuffled to the kitchen with Wayzz close behind. With subtle chatter persistent in the kitchen, Claire allowed her attention to drift towards Adrien. There he sat, appearing tangled in a fog. His emerald hues caught sight of her gaze from their periphery, and the young male model straightened his shoulders to attention.

"Ah, sorry, I was just daydreaming about something," his voice wavered with insincerity, trying his best to conjure a pleasant smile, "I guess, I should tell you that Master Fu is my mentor. He's the one who trusted me to be Cat Noir, and also trusted I would keep my identity a secret, but now…"

"Adrien," Claire started once Adrien's words drifted into silence. "Will everything be okay?"

Adrien's lips parted, but hesitated to oblige. Pressing firmly against them, he recovered with assurance, "Yeah, of course. Master Fu will know what to do. You'll be fine Claire, I promise."

"That's not it. What I meant was, will you be-?"

"I apologize for keeping the both of you waiting. I hope it was not long."

Before Claire could pose the question, Master Fu pronounced himself at the coffee table. In his grasp, he balanced a tray containing two delicate porcelain cups. Carefully, he served the two teens and resumed his comfortable position at the coffee table across them. Nodding quietly to himself, he picked up his abandoned cup and took a careful sip, "Now, tell me, what is your name young girl?"

"It's Claire," she answered, dipping her chin a little to avoid direct contact. Although the elder man had been hospitable so far, the awareness of knowing something she shouldn't, weighed like stone in her chest. Instead, she focused on the rippling pools of tea inside her cup. "Clair MacLiam, sir."

"Very pretty name, it suits you well," Master Fu complimented with an accompanying smile. "From what I understand, Claire, is that you are aware of Adriene being Cat Noir. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir," the pain of admission was transparent as glass across her features.

"I am certain you understand that Adrien cannot continue to be Cat Noir, now that his identity has been compromised," Master Fu lowered his cup, anchoring his experienced eyes against hers; round and doe-eyed. "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."

The tips of Claire's fingers turned cold, and her cream complexion drained at the harrowing statement. Rigidly, her attention sought Adrien next to her. There sat the young male teen, with his own pallor lifted from his cheeks. Adrien's vibrant meadow greens were shaken, and his hand anxiously fiddled with an ornate ring she hadn't noticed before on his finger.

"Adrien, I had entrusted you to hold and protect the Miraculous, and due to your carelessness, you placed your own kwami and Ladybug in potential harm." Master Fu lowered his tone, relinquishing his previous warm reception. "I will rectify this by asking you to return your Miraculous," there was a pause that could stop the heart of any living creature. "And to return your memories as Cat Noir."

"Alright, now wait just a sec," a familiar mischievous voice squeaked in protest from Adrien's pants pocket. Phlagg, the charcoal-cat kwami zipped into the air, evident fear and frustration in the bend of his whiskers. "C'mon Master Fu. Adrien's a good kid. Sure, he messed up, even after I told him not to transform, but that's besides the point! All kwami holders can make a mistake like this. That, and I have a wife and cheese kid back at home. I can't be that cheese dad that says he's leaving for milk and never comes back, how messed up is that!"

"It is not your place to decide, Plagg." Wayzz interjected. "Master Fu is the current guardian of the Miraculous. It is with all our best interest to listen and obey, to ensure the safety of us all. kwami and holder."

"Hmph! 'Obey'?" Plagg bared the grit of his feline teeth, "That just sounds like a bunch of scaredy-cat talk to me."

"Plagg," Adrien spoke up, clasping the ring tightly in his hold. He gathered the fragmented pieces of his resolve, and placed the ring on top of the coffee table. "You, Master Fu and Wayzz are right….I messed up. If I have to do this to protect you, the kwami's, and...Ladybug,`` At the mention of his partner, treasured memories which only they shared flooded his senses. An instant wetness formed against his eyelids, "I'd give up being Cat Noir over and over again."

"Adrien…" Plagg's ears and tails lowered at the sincerity of his holders confession.

I don't understand anything...nothing at all, but this can't be right. Claire's thoughts ensnared her, trapping her in this moment that seemed far from her reach. So misplaced, her own presence felt insignificant, as if she wasn't even in the same room. Yet, this was the curse of her knowledge. The punishment was being delivered; the guillotine set, but her head wasn't the one being laid.

I-I don't want this.

Master Fu lowered his eyes against the fragile porcelain cup placed deliberately in front of Adrien, eyeing the fragrant puddles wafting into the still air. His century long gaze pulled Adrien to take note of the fine China, reticent with an ominous aroma. A hitched breath caught inside the teen's parched throat; it was the remedy. Every passing second felt like fingers closing around Claire's throat, and it started to strangle her. With no words able to escape, she watched in silence as Adrien lifted a pale and trembling hand to take the offering.

Wait, don't….please.

Claire's pounding heart bruised against her ribs, with her own tears screaming to come forth. The fear of doing nothing, and at the same time, doing anything shackled her inside an emotional prison. Would she just mutely watch Adrien commit to losing everything, right in front of her? Would she witness the vanishing of Cat Noir so passively? Had she no sense of anything, but the comfort of staying perfectly still in her own little world?

I-I can forget….I can forget…!

How absolutely dreadful it was; the love letter, going to the park, searching for Cat Noir to please her own desire of being acknowledged. For what….this? The porcelain cup reached the tip of Adrien's lips, the tonic pooling as his lips began to part open.

Claire was out of time.

The teen girl latched against Adrien's wrist, ripping the teacup from his mouth. Like an arm reaching for her insides, panic lurched her forward. Claire crushed her mouth against his, drawing out even the most insignificant drops staining his lips and teeth. Claire paid no mind to the tingling pain and sweet taste of metal on her tongue. Without acknowledging the calls of protest from her surrounding company, she forcefully drew Adrien's wrist and served herself the entirety of the brew. Clenching her teary-eyes shut, she gulped and gulped until nothing remained. After an exhausted breath she weakened her hold on Adrien, and wavered in balance. Slumping over, Adrien was quick to catch Claire in one arm. Her consciousness fluttered; bleary sighted, her vision of Adrien and the ethereal creatures spun in circles, melting into the apartment ceiling. Soon, they all collided into one canvas of blurred colors.

I hope Adrien…doesn't need braces now…because…of…me

At her last fading thought, Claire went limp. The voices disappeared. There was nothing.


"Master Fu… the presence…a kwami."

"Where, Wayzz?"

"There….inside…"

"That is….not possible…"

"How could…?"

From the darkness behind restful eyes, Claire's senses began to rekindle inside her. Warmth returned to her fingertips and toes, regaining their sense of touch. Her breath filled the pit of her empty belly, giving rise to her abdomen. Claire's lashes tickled her cheeks, stirring the movement of her eyes. Carefully, she opened them to the world again. At first, they stared off into the empty space above her. A white ceiling, draped in the warm hues of a setting afternoon sun from the open veranda. The sounds of evening life filtered from the streets of Paris outside the apartment; cheerful conversation of those returning home to rest after a full day. A pleasant waft of cool air graced her face. She turned over a cheek, viewing Master Fu settled beside her lying form, waving a decorative fan.

"I see you are finally awake," Master Fu was first to speak, with an air of amusement. "You had quite the nap there. I suppose it was much needed after today's events."

"How did I…" Claire blinked against the grains of sleep sticking to her golden hues. At the mention of what previously transpired, the young high schooler rose to a seated position. Claire realized she had been placed on a floor futon. She gripped the sheets that covered her, and whipped her head to bare her full attention against Master Fu, "Adrien—is he ok? Is he still Cat Noir? Does he still remember Ladybug?"

Claire gasped, and hushed at her own questions. Her pink fingertips brushed against her bottom lip, and winced at the painful touch.

"I still remember," she announced quietly, unsure if she should proclaim it so honestly. However, she yearned for answers to her questions, "How can I still remember?"

"Oh, Claire. There was nothing special about that cup of brewed tea," Master Fu chuckled at the flustered teen. "I had to lead you both to believe that, in order to test Adrien's commitment to take personal accountability. I am aware that Adrien revealing his identity was an honest mistake. However, it was a powerful learning opportunity for him…there will always be those hiding in the dark. Waiting to catch Cat Noir and Ladybug at their most vulnerable."

"Now, what I did not expect was for you to willingly sacrifice your own memories to protect Adrien's secret," Master Fu smiled graciously, unveiling the warmth that was introduced to her before. "Adrien wanted to thank you personally when you awoke, but unfortunately, he had to leave on the account of his father. He hoped you would forgive him."

"Of course," Claire nodded, bringing the sheet to cover her mouth and bashful expression.

"However, the fact still remains that you have knowledge that is very dangerous." Master Fu drew on a serious note. "It could very well be the end of Cat Noir and Ladybug if that information were to be shared or forcibly taken from you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Claire lowered her sight, clenching the white sheets. "I don't mind...losing my memories." Briefly, her father came to her mind. A strong hand in the vast night sky, guiding her eyes to watch the descent of a falling star. Claire bit the bottom of her lip to withhold her sentiments, "Even if I forget, I want to believe my heart won't. And I'll know when I feel them. Somehow, I think." Exhaling, she succumbed to a predetermined fate, "That's why, if forgetting will help protect Ladybug, Cat Noir and Paris...I'll do it, Master Fu."

"Claire, an orphan often meets their destiny on the path they choose to avoid it," Master Fu spoke. "If you wish for me to erase your memory, then that is what I will do. I will take the ones of Adrien and Cat Noir, and the most painful ones hidden within the depths of your mind and body," Master Fu paused, and Claire blinked as his hand graced an item beside his kneeled form. There laid a mystical book, withered by time but still lustrous with ancient power. "Or, you will choose to carry the burden of your memories, and in turn, serve to protect Ladybug and Cat Noir."

"I-I don't understand," Claire stuttered, unable to grasp the concepts thrown against her. "What's my other choice?"

"You will train as my disciple," Master Fu pronounced, eyes burning with intensity. "You will be a Guardian."