A/N: This was heavily inspired by that happier/traitor mashup edit. I think y'all know the one.

And man... I hate that they did Kagami like that. I actually do like Adrigami (though I like adrigaminette and marigami more) and I think it could have provided a nice dynamic for the show. I hate that they kept Adrien so hung-up on someone else that he pushes his own girlfriend away.

Anyway. Enough rambling. Enjoy some angst.

And please, y'all, please no character bashing. Not of Kagami, Adrien, or Marinette. Keep it civil. I didn't think I had to mention that, but apparently I do.


The short-haired teen threw a glance to where Dupont's so-called 'Akuma Class' was picnicking in the sunlight, and a twist of jealousy shot through her chest as she saw two of their number sitting together on a blanket.

She may have broken up with Adrien no more than a month ago, but he certainly looked happy - and the noirette beauty at his side looked for all the world like she was sitting next to the boy who hung the stars in the sky and lifted the sun and moon with his own hands.

Marinette, so pretty, so kind, so smitten with her ex, someone she might have considered a confidant in another lifetime, one where he didn't stray so quickly after her accusations of emotional infidelity drove their relationship to its grave.

She had to look away from the scene, sipping bitterly at her water.

Of all things, she hadn't expected him to move on this quickly - and she certainly hadn't expected him to be so forthcoming with his new relationship.

It was almost like...

No, she decided firmly, setting down her water bottle and reaching for her phone. Adrien wasn't that type of person. He wasn't that spiteful.

Or was he?

Their relationship had ended on tense terms. Kagami had made no qualms about how much of a third wheel she felt like in their own relationship, whenever he brought Marinette around. He hadn't done much to dissuade her anger, and when she finally decided to let go, she only half-expected the wave of confusion and calm that showed on his face.

He took their breakup well - too well.

It wasn't just his first relationship, but hers as well. And Kagami had been nigh inconsolable for the past few weeks since it happened.

But Adrien?

Only two weeks afterward, he seemed to have bounced back to normal - and if the chatter from their class was anything to be believed, had moved on to the next willing candidate: one Marinette Dupain-Cheng, one whom she thought she was friends with.

Apparently not as close as she'd thought, for she still couldn't see much guilt in her eyes whenever they spoke, though she seemed solemn whenever talk came up of Adrien.

It was almost as if she... regretted saying yes. But why would she? She'd won their rivalry. She had the boy both of them had eyes for.

Why would she feel regret when she got everything she wanted?

And why did Kagami still feel a longing deep in her heart, an urge tugging at her soul when it came to the baker's daughter?

"I wish that you'd have thought this through before I went and fell in love with you!" She remembered herself yelling, losing her grip on her temper for the first time in what felt like ages. She'd all but forgotten what it felt like to shout at someone, something that had been very quickly disciplined out of her by her mother. "You didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor!"

Now as she watched them sit together, Marinette's dainty fingers feeding him cookies with a heartwarming look of pure joy on her face, she wondered if they were happy together.

What did he say to her? Did he tell her the same old 'eternal love' drivel he'd spouted to her when she finally got the guts to confess? Did he tell her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world? Did he give her sweet platitudes that made her swoon? Did he offer his jacket in the rain, or sweep her off her feet as he walked through puddles, or even give her a handkerchief when her eyes stung with tears?

Did he think of her, even now?

A sickness rose in the pit of her gut, a deep nauseous anxiety that made her have to look away for good when she caught his green gaze across the park. The recognition faded away to what almost seemed like pity, and though she couldn't read him from here, she knew that he must feel sorry for her, even now.

She didn't need his pity. She didn't need anyone's pity. She was better off by herself, far away from pretty model boys with honeyed words and traitorous eyes, of a tongue that spoke nothing but silver but dripped with latent nightshade.

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.