CHAPTER 18: DON'T LET THE BED BUGS BITE
Blair
Lounging lazily in my room surfing through channels is the new norm for me every weekend. No training, no patrol, no high-strung guys in magic red spandex… Just me, my flat screen and a bowl of caramel popcorn.
"Oh, my sweet magnificent cheese! How well you've aged!"
Oh right. Can't forget about the cheese-obsessed cat kwami forever taking residence in my room.
"So gooey," the flying cat poked the disgusting melty thing then took a huge whiff of it. "Such a heavenly scent…"
I increased the volume of my Spider-Man movie to tune him out. And I thought my brother was bad whenever he has a crush. Noticing my annoyance seemed to amuse the teeny tiny avatar of destruction.
Plagg took a small portion of it and waved it near my face. "You should try this."
"No thanks," I grimaced at the foul smelling goop that dared to call itself food. "I'll stick to food that actually smells good."
"Suit yourself," the kwami licked the cheese off his paws like a grooming cat. Then his ears twitched and he zoomed out of sight.
Before I can question him, my door swung open and in came my twin looking like he just survived a mob. Considering our profession, he probably just did.
"Hey bro. How did the photoshoot go?"
He flopped next to me on my bed, ignored my protests about getting leaves and dirt all over my beddings, hugged my pillow to his face and screamed into it.
After letting out a resigned sigh, I paused my movie so we can talk.
"That bad, huh?"
He nodded vigorously without removing my pillow from his face.
I patted his back comfortingly. "There there, bro."
"It dragged on forever."
"It's over now."
"The photographer was a demanding jerk."
"Don't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's doing."
"Then I got chased by fangirls on the way home."
"I can see that. You look like a survivor of a zombie apocalypse movie."
Blake finally raised his head from my pillow just so he can give me the stink eye. "Let's see you do better."
"Well, I did just escaped an akuma last week and walked out of it unscathed," I checked my nails with a smug grin.
Blake rolled his eyes at me. "That was a fluke. The akuma was busy declaring his undying love for you when you kicked him in the balls."
"He had it coming."
"I agree," he said, taking a handful of my caramel popcorn and popping some into his mouth.
I pulled out my remote and twirled it around my hand. "So, wanna watch a movie?"
"What, you don't need your beauty sleep by now?" Blake raised a questioning brow.
"Nope. I can stay up another hour or two."
I'm definitely not regretting my decision to ditch Ladybug now. Before, I'd be nagged at by Ladybug for being late for patrols at this hour. Now, I don't have to worry about that. I can take my time just talking to Blake or catching up on the latest superhero movies we both love to watch instead of pretending to be sleepy and shutting my twin out.
… Had Blake been my partner instead, I wouldn't have those problems to begin with.
"Sure, but can we maybe not hang out in this room?" Blake took a sniff in the air and scrunched his nose in disgust. "Ugh, what is that smell?"
Yikes. I've gotten so used to the smell that I can ignore it. It's not like I haven't tried to contain the smell – I bought a mini-fridge which I had to beg Mrs. Liung to let me have in my room. But even that is not enough to stop the Camembert smell from lingering whenever Plagg deems the cheese to need to age more at room temperature. Such is the price I pay to become a superhero. I bet Ladybug's got it easy. Plagg occasionally calls Tikki 'Sugar Cube', so I can guess what she likes. Why can't Plagg obsess over something less hazardous like sugar cubes?!
Blake stretched out on my bed, accidentally reaching his hand into the disgusting camembert Plagg was cooing over just minutes ago.
"Ew! What the heck is this?!" Blake wipes off the melted cheese onto his dirty pants.
I coughed loudly to cover up Plagg's wailing over his beloved and sneakily threw a pillow in the annoying cat's direction while Blake was busy wiping his hand. Plagg shot me a dirty look. I ignored it in favor of pulling my twin up and getting us out of my room with my bowl of popcorn.
"It's just Camembert," at Blake's judgemental look, I hastily came up with an excuse. "Some models at work told me about how melted camembert makes for a good moisturizer. Like milk."
"Seriously?" his eyes narrowed, his protective brotherly instincts kicking in. "Sure they're not just saying that to trick you into smelling bad?"
"I'm sure," I took Blake's hand, holding back on gagging at how Camembert even feels disgusting and poured every ounce of my model skills into selling this act. "Your hand feels smoother already."
"Still not worth the smell," Blake pulled his hand back and made his way to his room. "I got a copy of that Spider-Man movie. We could watch here."
I shut the door to my room to block out Plagg's whining about cheese murderers and smiled at my twin.
"Sure, bro."
"Oh, and by the way sis, you'll never guess who I ran into today…"
Yup. Life is good without the annoying bug to drag me away from my family.
0-0-0-0-0
For someone who isn't a morning person, I can sure move fast when I need to. I just have to make sure I wake up at least thirty minutes before school starts and I'm good. Blake and I made it just in time before Mr. Ross came in to check attendance.
This is where we part ways: me with the Helios Prince, Blake with Sleeping Beauty. Blake's lavender haired seatmate was snoozing away as Shizuke nagged him to death about wearing his PJ's to class.
"Jake, wake up! You'll get in trouble! At least change into the school's P.E. Uniform!"
Blake ignored him as he pulled out a textbook to make himself look busy and not incite the nags of the bespectacled mother hen. I zoned him out in favor of chilling with Keagan, who greeted me with a wide smile and a friendly wave.
"Blair! I saw you took down an akuma a few days ago and I was wondering if you can give me an interview?"
"Sure," I grinned at him.
Just another morning for a star like moi.
0-0-0-0-0
"Care to tell me what's up in class today?" I asked him after the interview.
Keagan's always happy to help whenever anyone asks. This is why he's my school life line - he keeps me up to date with school work so I don't flunk out. While being a crazy blogger who stalks akumas means his attendance is hardly better than mine, he's got connections in the teachers' staff. Namely, Mr. Ross, our homeroom teacher.
I know what you're asking. If Keagan's so eager to help, why not make him do all the work? Simply because:
A. There are lines I wouldn't cross for I have morals.
B. Fiona and Shizuke will have my head if I take advantage of Keagan's generosity.
Eyes practically sparkling, Keagan said, "This week, Mr. Ross wants us to research some famous French figures. I'm calling dibs on Joan of Arc!"
"Okay?" I tilted my head in confusion. "I don't get why you're excited about this, but yay?"
"I've been researching for possible past Miraculous Wielders," the school prince pulled out his phone and showed me some tabs. The one he's showing me has an image of the French Saint herself garbed in red armor with black spots a la Ladybug. "Guess who turned out to be a former Ladybug?"
It's all I could to not to drop my grin. Of course he was looking for a past Ladybug. Everyone knows Keagan prefers my flipping partner Ladybug. His stupid blog is named after Ladybug. Heck, I'm like eighty percent sure he has a crush on Ladybug!
"Interesting. Happen to find any former Chat Noire's?"
"No, not at the moment," Keagan's shoulders slumped down and he looked to the side with his head bowed down. At least he looked genuinely sad about it. "I thought I was onto something with Hercules, but he seems to be more of a Lion than a Black Cat."
Crud! Now he's sad.
"Okay… How about any other Miraculous?" I prompted. "Weren't there others besides the Black Cat, the Ladybug and the Butterfly a few years ago?"
Keagan sunk further into his seat. "Aunt Vera won't tell me anything. I can respect that Aunt Vera didn't want to give Hawkmoth any hints of other Miraculous in case she didn't know but still… I wanna know!"
Double crud! I made it worse.
"Hey, I'm sure you'll find something."
My half-hearted pep talk earned me a half-hearted smile from the prince and a half-hearted glare from his knight in a black leather jacket sitting behind him. Sigh. For Fiona, I'll try to do better than this. Wouldn't want my life line's other bestie to hate me too.
"So, about that project…"
"Oh, right!" Keagan perked up and went back to fanboying about the past Ladybug.
As a person, I actually like Keagan. He's upbeat, friendly, and helpful with a strong mental fortitude… But I'm far from in the mood to listen to him sing Ladybug's praises. Still, I wear a model smile and nodded along to it hoping not to piss off Fiona. This will be worth it!
When Mr. Ross gave us the project later that day, it turned out to be a group project, done by pairs based on seating arrangement – meaning, I'm stuck with Monsieur Ladyblogger.
Keagan's got this in the bag. He can take the lead with research, while I'll just assist with everything else. Except maybe reporting. He's probably itching to report this himself. Or at least, the Ladybug part of the report.
Truly, I've invested on the right person to be my friend.
0-0-0-0-0
"You want my number? My, aren't we forward."
The freshly minted class president shot me the sternest glare he could muster… Which wasn't very effective when his eyes could barely stay open and he looks like he hadn't slept properly in days. He's practically a coffee scented zombie at this point.
"It's not like that!" he said with his arms waving about like it can make his statement any clearer. "I'm asking for your phone number strictly for school purposes!"
"That's a new one. I'll give you that," I rolled my eyes as I took his phone to indulge him.
This is Shizuke Midorikawa: the dude who sits behind me, best buddies with the Helios Prince and the Jewelry Princess, and for some unexplained reason, he hates me. The reason why, to this very day, remains a mystery.
"Don't be presumptuous!" his voice cracked. Noticing this, he coughed to regain control his voice and started gesturing wildly like a frustrated pre-school teacher. "As the newly elected class president, I need everyone's contact details so I can inform my class of any school work or events. And seeing as your attendance is less than perfect, you have to give me your contacts so you don't fall behind!"
"One, don't get your glasses in a knot," I used the tip of my pointer finger to fix Shizuke's glasses that went askew during his passionate explanation. He huffed in annoyance and I carried on. "Two, your attendance is only perfect on paper. Don't think I didn't notice your little disappearing acts. What makes you any better at keeping up with school?"
Just like me, he's pretty flaky with class. Not really absent but like, one minute, he's a presence that can always be heard like a ghost haunting the school. Next minute, he's gone. Then by next period, it's like he never left. At first, I assumed he was just getting dragged around by his friends whenever there's an akuma but apparently he was never with them. Do I care? Not really. But is he being kind of a hypocrite right now? Totally.
"… I have my ways."
One of my brows rose questioningly. "If it's Keagan, then no thanks. You're not the only one who's buddies with him."
Shizuke then started rambling to himself. Lucky for him, I don't have time to wait for an answer nor do I care.
Typing down random numbers, I handed him my phone back. "Here you go. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a shoot to get to."
Before I completely left the room, I heard him trying to call someone, probably me. Like heck I'd just hand over my number that easily. Stranger danger and all that. Plus, I don't need him yelling my ears off outside class any time he feels like it. I've had more than enough of that from Ladybug yelling my ears off whenever I'm late for patrol.
But alas, I underestimated the resourcefulness of the overbearing nerd.
"Blake-"
"Yeah, yeah, I'll give you her number."
Et tu, bruh?
0-0-0-0-0
Modelling is a career path I wouldn't have chosen for myself, yet here I am. It's not all bad. Flexible work hours and good pay sweetens the deal. Sure, there's pressure from photographers, publicists and who else is in charge of shoots but it's nothing I can't handle. I'm a professional, after all.
"You could say 'no' if this makes you uncomfortable," said my manager and my legal guardian, Erin Liung. From the mirror, I can see her standing behind me with her arms crossed, not caring if it wrinkled her plum colored suit, and her coral lips pursed.
"It's alright. I can handle this. That swimsuit collection last summer was more risqué than this lipstick commercial," I said, careful not to move my face too much as the makeup artist applied my makeup.
Mrs. Liung's button nose scrunched up. "Don't remind me."
"I'm sixteen, that shoot gave me a shot to get into Aphrodite, and the model I worked with was a professional who kept his hands to himself," I firmly said.
What I didn't say is that Blake cracking his knuckles as he glared at him across the room probably helped my co-model stay professional. I did the same for Blake during his shoot, not that any of those dumb model girls took me seriously. Times like these, I can understand Fiona's desire to look intimidating.
"Look, it's not that I don't trust you or any of your co-models to stay professional…" Mrs. Liung traced a finger over that silver butterfly pendant she always wore along with her matching wedding ring. It had curled silver wire wings and an amethyst center. "But this is your first kiss. Wouldn't you rather give it to someone you love?"
I frowned at her.
The makeup artist stepped back to examine her work. Happy with what she saw, she excused herself and left my dressing room as soon as she can. Can't blame her. Nobody would wanna listen in on what could either be family drama or the birds and the bees talk.
"How sure are you this is my first kiss?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Women's intuition," Mrs. Liung moved to the vanity so she can properly face me. "Something tells me you've never even been remotely interested in anyone before."
"So what?" I refuse to let it look like I'm bothered by that so I looked her straight in the eye, emerald green to amethyst violet. "Not everything has to be romantic."
"I'm just-" Mrs. Liung hesitated before her eyes harden. "You're just a kid - a teenager if you wanna get technical with me. There's nothing wrong with wanting things to be romantic. There's nothing wrong with wanting things period."
Well I'm sorry to say, but the things I want in life just aren't possible.
"Mrs. Liung, I'm telling you for the millionth time, I am totally okay with this job. Seriously. It's just a peck. It's not like I'm offering anything more than that. I've read the fine print before signing the contract, just like you taught me to. I know exactly what I'm getting into."
Besides, models willing to do kissing scenes are more marketable than those who don't. More jobs mean more money. More money means Mrs. Liung will need less work hours to support us all.
"If you're sure…"
I purposefully let out an exaggerated groan. "I'm sure."
Mrs. Liung frowned, her brows creased with worry. Feeling a little bad, I felt the need to reassure her.
"I'll be fine."
I stood up from my chair and removed my robe. My outfit for the day is a sleeveless white dress that ends just above my knees. My hair is styled in a half up half down 'do that kept just enough of my red hair out of my face. Make up was light but carefully applied so my red lips stand out. All that's left to do is put on the wedges they gave me and kiss my co-model for the cameras.
For something many people make a big deal about, it felt anti-climatic. No butterflies in my stomach. I didn't feel tingly anywhere. The world didn't stop. I can still tell there are people around us, especially the director when he yelled 'Cut!'.
I pulled away from my co-model. I guess he's a handsome guy like the dozen or so I've worked with before. He was smiling down at me, leaning closer and closer… And I patted him on the shoulder to stop him in place, told him he did a good job, and went on my merry way to my dressing room before he starts to think there's anything more to this.
Later that day, I had to fight an akumatized fan girl of his as soon as he bragged to the internet about kissing me. At least we're done with the shoot for the day. Time to sneak away from Mrs. Liung and beat this fangirl before Ladybug gets here.
All in a day's work for a professional like moi.
0-0-0-0-0
Back in the early days of my career as Chat Noire, Ladybug had us patrolling and training every day. At first, I was fine with it because I thought we could find Hawkmoth within a month. Days were tiring but the thrill of being a superhero spurred me on like an extra battery. But I can't run on adrenaline forever. It's clear now that we underestimated how slippery that witch can be.
As Chat Noire, I've contacted the police if they've found anything in their security cameras, see if they can trace her tracks via butterflies. Those butterflies had to come from somewhere, right?
A cranky Ladybug then told me, "Kwamis don't show up on cameras. Of course Hawkmoth's butterflies wouldn't show up! They're part of Nooroo! We're wasting time here," blah blah blah, whatever.
Then I thought, it's not like Hawkmoth herself would be invisible through cameras. She even showed up on the news once! But even that became moot because that woman only went out in public once and of all places, it's on a cathedral at night – plenty of towers and gargoyles to hide behind under the cover of darkness, minimal security cameras. Cunning witch probably planned it to work out that way whether she got our Miraculous or not.
Face and voice identifying technology is also useless due to glamour magic. The police had tried to leave it all to technology but just like the cameras, magic messed with it. Great. Magic thought of everything!
There's always the good old fashioned power of deduction, but that's about as reliable as technology thanks to glamour magic. Hair, eye, and skin color can't really count for much, transformations can change that if the wielder wills it. But let's lay out all the clues about Hawkmoth's identity anyway:
Hawkmoth is a woman – or at least identifies as one. Transition tech has vastly improved over the years. You could hardly tell apart a transwoman from a ciswoman. One thing's for sure, she's got an hour glass figure that belongs in the front cover of a magazine.
Height is roughly estimated to be 5'8" but could be shorter due to heels. I can't really be sure, I only got close to her when we're fighting and I was paying more attention to her sword than her heels. Most of the time she had the higher ground. All I'm sure of is that she's not too far from my height.
And most importantly, she's lost someone important to her.
"I can sense your feelings. We're more alike than you think."
I remembered what she said that time she crashed Ladybug's public press con. Her voice echoed through the swarm of purple butterflies she sent out on the City Square. It felt like she's everywhere; like there's nowhere to run and you've got no choice but to listen to her.
"Try as you might to be a hero, you're nothing more than a selfish lonely little girl still crying for the loss of her-"
That's gotta be her prime motivation.
To summarize, Hawkmoth is a woman who's a little bit taller than me and - if her words are to be believed - she's lost someone important to her. Sadly, I know one woman who matches this description. I had to send Plagg out to investigate. For once, the glutton didn't ask for any Camembert in return and just did what I told him to. Instead of feeling touched or relieved, I just felt worried.
I remembered how Hawkmoth wore the Butterfly Miraculous - it was a brooch pinned to a black ribbon choker around her neck… And my primary suspect just happens to wear a silver wire butterfly pendant with an amethyst center. Sure, she's been wearing that necklace long before Hawkmoth… Back when Hawkmoth's predecessor was active alongside other Miraculous-wielding heroes. It was an anniversary present from the guy she eventually married 'til death went and did them part. But I can never be too careful.
It wasn't until Plagg came back and told me his findings – or lack thereof – that I can feel some relief.
"I searched everywhere in the house, even inside the walls, floors and ceilings. She's clean."
As much as it pains me, I can't rule out Erin Liung as a suspect without investigating her. I didn't want to suspect her at all. I owe her everything. But as dad would say, everyone's a suspect until proven innocent.
"Don't feel too bad. You did what you had to do," Plagg said, in an odd moment of compassion. "Or rather, you had me do what needed to be done."
"Yeah, I know," I hugged my legs closer, not relaxed enough to snark back. "I can't let sentimentality stop me from finding Hawkmoth."
Sensing my mood, Plagg's ears drooped back. He floated over to me and sat on my shoulder. "You know, I once had a Chat Noir whose father turned out to be the villainous mastermind he and his Ladybug had been hunting down for years."
"How did that turn out?"
"They beat the bad guy, but my wielder paid for it. Well, it's not like he wasn't used to feeling like a stray with the way his father treated him. Distant but controlling. Frankly, he was more like an employee than a son. Home was so much like a prison he sees school as a sanctuary in comparison."
"Uhm, Emergency 911? We've got a major of case child abuse here," I said, in a vain attempt to lighten up the mood.
Plagg let out a small chuckle, like he's pretending my joke actually worked. "In retrospect, his father was pretty abusive."
"But something prevented him from seeing it," I said, barely above a whisper.
The kwami nodded. "Yep. All that time he held out hope his father would change, wishing they could be a happy family even without his mother. But the time came when he found out and his father forced him to make an impossible choice… It hurt to know his father was beyond saving."
"Ouch."
"Yeah, ouch."
There was a moment of silence as I imagined my predecessor's life and how he must've felt. Learning that the person who was supposed to love and protect you has done you nothing but harm can't be easy. Much more if despite it all, he still loved him. The betrayal he must've felt… I can see why Plagg agreed to investigate Mrs. Liung without question. Wouldn't wanna see another of his cats go through the same heartbreak again.
"At least now you know your mom isn't secretly a villain."
"She's not my mom," I said sharply. I looked towards the family picture hanging in my room, eyes lingering on the green eyed woman standing next to my dad. "She can never replace my real mom."
"It's okay to admit you love her. She's family too."
I let go of my legs and laid flat on my bed, turning away from my family portrait.
"I'm just glad I'd never have to fight her to the death. I wouldn't know where else to go and the alternatives aren't looking too hot… What did that Chat Noir do after the fallout?"
Plagg narrowed his eyes at the subject change but humored me anyway.
"It was a long process before he was truly okay. His Lady was there for him and that helped more than anything."
By 'his Lady', Plagg's probably talking about that Chat Noir's Ladybug. The thought of red with black spots soured my mood.
"If this is a long-winded ploy to get me to go apologize to my Ladybug, I swear – "
"Calm down, kid. I know every Ladybug and Black Cat's relationship is different and I don't expect you two to get along as well as they did. What they had was something special," for a moment, the kwami looked like he was reminiscing... Then he remembered I'm still here, so he stuck his tongue out in exaggerated disgust. "But they were so sweet it was sickening! If you and your bug ever start dating, please don't be as lovey-dovey as they were if I'm in the same room."
"Ha! Fat chance of that happening."
Plagg was smirking, like he got the reaction he wanted. It was a few seconds later that I realized he was trying to rile me up on purpose to release some tension. Plagg is far from affectionate, but I know he cares in his own way.
All's well that ends well. I can now rest easy knowing my legal guardian isn't secretly trying to kill me.
0-0-0-0-0
"Blake! Blair! Long time no see!" a familiar blue eyed blonde greeted, the skirt of her white and navy blue striped sundress fluttering in the wind as she ran towards us - I'm impressed she managed to run that fast without flashing anyone.
She slowed down as she got closer to me and my bro standing under the shade cast by a red brick bridge. It took me more than a moment to recognize her as the blue eyed blonde seven-year-old from my childhood. Blake did say he ran into her a few days ago - he literally and figuratively fell for her then and there.
"Hey 'Talia," Blake shyly waved at her like an awkward dork who doesn't know what else to say.
"I see you grew your hair. It looks great," I said, starting off the small talk cause my twin is useless at that.
"Aw, thank you," Natalia smiled, curling a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "It took me years to grow it… But yours look silkier. What's your secret?"
Natalia Hale is a girl Blake and I befriended with one summer. Blake got injured falling off a tree when we first met her at her father's clinic. She treated his scrapes and the three of us became friends ever since. Together we'd try a new flavor at Old Magnolia's Ice Cream Parlor, or play whatever story we'd come up with - Natalia with her dolls and us with our action figures. We would stick together having fun until our parents took us home.
… A lot of things changed since then.
"If you checked out my latest shampoo commercial, you'd know it," I flipped my hair to demonstrate.
Blake rolled his eyes, intuitively getting into our sibling banter. "Sis, this is an advertising-free zone."
Natalia giggled at our antics. "You guys haven't changed. Not in that regard at least."
"Yep. Our sass is the only thing constant in the world we live in," I said.
"So, we're going to Lucia Park today?" asked Blake, losing his sass the minute he remembered his crush is in the vicinity.
"Could we wait a little longer?" Natalia asked, looking nervous all of a sudden. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
Blake stiffened next to me. He looked like he wanted to ask Natalia about it but his lips are shuddering too much to get a word out.
My lips curled into a mischievous grin, making sure Natalia's attention is on me and not on Blake, who's too nervous to grow a pair and ask himself.
"Ooh, is it a boyfriend?~"
My dearest brother jabbed me at the side for asking a question he was dying to ask. What an ingrate.
Laughter broke up our stink eye contest and we both turned to see Natalia laughing so hard she was clutching her stomach. "No! Hahaha! He's not my type and I've been bro-zoned. I would've been offended if his little bro wasn't the cutest thing ever."
Us twins only had one thing to say about this, "Whut?"
"Oh! Here he comes!" Natalia smile widened as she waved over someone behind us. "Damien! Get over here!"
As one, we turned to see the newcomer - and holy cow, what a giant! He's like six feet tall with spiky black hair that only adds to his height and broad figured with huge hands - the better to strangle us with. Wearing a black shirt of some obscure heavy metal band, he makes an interesting contrast with our giddy blonde friend in a white sundress dragging him towards us.
Talk about tall, dark and intimidating. If Natalia's preference for Prince Charming hasn't changed, then I can see how he's not her type… But I'm having a hard time picturing this guy's little brother being the cutest thing ever.
"Damien, these are my childhood friends, Blake and Blair Crawford. Twins, this is my best friend, Damien Guerrero."
My eyes widen as I recognized the name. Pretty sure Blake is having the same realization with the way he's going pale.
"Guerrero? As in Guerrero Real Estates?" I just had to clarify.
"Yes. And you two are the famous new model twins from Aphrodite."
Blake and I nodded.
Our confirmation didn't put Damien at ease, judging by the way he's staring us down. It's like he's trying to intimidate us into revealing any ill intentions… He kinda reminds me of Fiona, except he actually looks the part of a guy who can bash your skull in if you ever hurt his bestie. Can't say I blame him, knowing our public reputations as a pair of heartbreakers.
Maintaining his poker face, my timid twin took a step back so he's a little behind me. That just made Damien's glare zone in on him. I moved to further block my twin. He's hopeless at times but I'm not about to leave him to this giant's mercy.
Natalia pouted, probably feeling ignored. "Yes, and I'm Natalia Hale of the Hale Clinic at Virgo Street, just a normal girl with a normal li - Holy shit."
Damien and Blake forgot the tension between them and turned at the same time to give Natalia concerned looks.
Whatever it is, it's making Natalia go red in the face - whether it's anger or embarrassment, I can't be sure until somebody asks.
"Uhm… What's wrong?" I'm the only one here who had the balls to take a step in a potential landmine.
"I'm like the Shizuke Midorikawa of this group! Fuck!"
I guess I can see what she means - an average nerd surrounded by a rich Latino and some famous names in the fashion industry. One has to wonder if there's a story behind that unlikely friendship.
Damien looked like he got stung… Is he not used to Natalia's potty mouth? She's always had a colorful vocabulary, even when we were kids.
"I-if it makes you feel any better," Blake spoke up, finally gathering the courage to speak up as he turns redder by the second. Go bro! You can do it! "You're be- You dress better than him."
… and he chickened out of calling Natalia 'beautiful' at the last second.
The big guy stared at Blake like he's having trouble believing what he just saw. Yes, Damien. This is Blake Crawford, the infamous 'womanizer' who's never had a girlfriend before. It's totally normal for him to get tongue-tied around the girl he likes and make an idiot of himself.
Natalia took the half-baked compliment well anyway. "Thanks, Blake."
The two started walking ahead of us on the sidewalk towards Lucia Park - it's signature abnormally large tree towered over the buildings like a beacon - leaving me to talk to Damien a few steps behind them.
"So, he's really like that?" he asked in a cautious but hopeful voice.
"Yup. 'Awkward dork' is his true color."
"Didn't expect that…"
"You know what they say, 'looks can be decieving'."
Damien looked at the pair ahead of us, contemplating. Blake is scratching the back of his head as Natalia giggled at him. Knowing my twin, he probably said or did something awkward. Seeing that, Damien's hunched shoulders slowly relaxed. He even smiled, looking relieved to see that Blake's playboy rep is a fraud.
"That saying could also apply to you."
Quickly turning his attention back to me, he asked, "What do you mean?"
"You seem scary at first, but I bet you're a softie."
Damien shook his head, looking down as if he didn't believe me. "No, I'm not."
"You so are," I speedwalked to get ahead of the giant. "C'mon! Those two might ditch us if we don't hurry!"
0-0-0-0-0
We spent the rest of the day hanging out and having fun like normal teens. I was feeling so relaxed, lying on the grass and basking under the sun… Until a flash of red and black polka dots both literally and figuratively put some shade into my sunny day.
Ladybug was holding on to the string of his yoyo as he slowly went down from that ginormous century old tree, the canopy of leaves parting in a way that lets the sun shine down on him like some angel descending from heaven. When his feet touched the ground, a little girl ran over to him. On his arm, he was cradling a calico cat which he handed over to the crying girl. Like some kind of kiddie cartoon superhero, he spouted some moral of the day for all children to follow. The girl beamed a gap-toothed smile at the hero as he swung away.
What a paragon of unattainable virtues.
"Man, that Ladybug's everywhere these days," Natalia commented after she took a bite out of her strawberry ice cream. "Just last week, he brought an injured man into our clinic. The man said Ladybug had saved him from a mugger earlier that night."
"Now that's a hero. He doesn't just save people day in and day out, he makes sure they're okay afterwards," Damien said. Sigh, another Ladybug fan.
"It must be taxing. Patrolling the city 'til the dead of night every night. Helios is a huge city and he's just one guy," Blake thoughtfully said. "If he keeps this up, he could break one day."
As expected. Blake's the only one who can remember Ladybug's a person like any other behind the mask rather than some almighty smiter of evildoers. He knows the cost of Ladybug's heroics, something I doubt the bug himself is aware of.
After taking the last bite out of her cone, Natalia wondered, "Doesn't Ladybug have a partner? Where the hell is she? They should be splitting the work!"
'Crack!' went the aluminum can of orange juice in my hand.
Three pairs of eyes were staring at me with shock and concern. I let out a refreshed sigh to cover up my frustration.
"Welp. I'm out of juice," I got up and stretched. I pointed towards the vending machine twenty feet away from us and made my way there. "I'll be right back."
0-0-0-0-0
"Blair, are you okay?" Blake asked, giving me a skeptical look. What do you expect from a twin brother?
I put a coin into the vending machine and bought another can of orange juice, humming some peppy pop song I heard from the radio. Once I retrieved my drink, I turned to Blake and smiled.
"It's nothing."
"Are you sure? You know you can tell me," Blake said, his emerald green eyes imploring me to trust him.
I almost gave in.
"I'm fine."
The lie left a bitter aftertaste, but my facade held strong until Blake hesitantly bought it. Together, we went back to Natalia and Damien, completely forgetting about my little incident.
Lying to him just never gets easier, doesn't it?
0-0-0-0-0
In my early days as a model, Mrs. Liung once told me not to look for negative comments on my work around social media. They do nothing but bring you down and make you sloppy. And if you're sloppy at work, you give your haters more ammo for their negative comments. It's just an endless cycle of hate you can never hope to overcome.
Looking around the Ladyblog feels kinda like looking for negative comments. Clearly, I'm in a masochistic mood today.
I flipped through article after article about Ladybug, my mood sinking lower and lower with every positive comment. 'Ladybug saved me from a mugger' this, 'Ladybug helped me carry my groceries home' that, 'OMG don't you think Ladybug has the best butt in all of Helios?' - oh please, I'm sure I'm hotter than him from every angle, not just my butt.
As for articles on me, there isn't much. Most of my grand achievements in taking down akumas single-handedly is drowned out by Ladybug's many mundane chores. Talk about quantity over quality. And then there's the occasional pervert commenting on stuff I'd rather not talk about. I flagged them for Keagan to delete later. Being a model made me numb around these kinds of comments and learn that the most efficient way to deal with them is to ignore them.
"{Everyone, give it up for Ladybug! The best superhero Helios ever had!}" hailed Monsieur Ladyblogger as the aforementioned bug boy just stared blankly with dark circles beneath his eyes - he might just pass for stoic if you squint hard enough. A round of applause echoed around them amidst the sea of flashing cameras. "{You'll never find a hero more dedicated than our very own Ladybug!}"
Keagan's hosting one of his interviews again and this time he didn't invite me. As a person, I like Keagan, I really do. But some days, his Ladybug fanboyism is getting in the way of what could've been a beautiful friendship between us.
The Helios Prince raised a hand to quiet down the crowd so he can begin his interview with the spaced out bug. Placing his hand on Ladybug's shoulder made the hero jump, but Keagan carried on like a pro.
"{Ladybug, it's an honor to have you here tonight.}"
The disoriented bug looked around as if he's just now seeing his surroundings.
"{Uhm, uh… The honor is mine?}"
Tsk, tsk, Ladybug. Didn't anyone ever taught this guy how to handle the spotlight?
The rest of the interview, Monsieur Ladyblogger went easy on Ladybug. He's not trying to make Ladybug look bad like any other reporter would - in fact, he's taking every opportunity he can to prop Ladybug up. While mentions of me are kept to a minimum. How biased!
I didn't bother finishing the interview. I get what they're - or at least Keagan's trying to do. Boost the city's morale. It's working for now, but from that tired look on Ladybug's face, it's only a matter of time before that pillar everyone is leaning on crumbles to dust.
Until then, I'll be here just waiting to pounce.
0-0-0-0-0
Having had enough of Blake's well-meaning-but-still-kinda-insulting attempts to warn me about how me and my room smell like Camembert, I decided to do something about it. Again. Heaven knows how many perfumes and air freshener brands I've gone through. No matter what I tried, that new scent just blends in with the Camembert and makes it worse. Ugh, it's bad enough when I had to explain to Mrs. Liung about my Camembert purchases – for something that stinks, they sure are pricey. This is humiliating!
I was mulling it over when – surprise, surprise – Fiona comes along with a useful tip.
She wordlessly passed me a calling card with a neutral look. It helps. I appreciate her effort to not look judgemental.
"Haruji's Garden at Taurus Street… Wait a minute, isn't that Shizuke's grandma's flower shop?" I can vaguely remember him mentioning - rather, yelling about it once or twice.
"That's the one. She also sells other organic stuff she makes out of the flowers and plants that didn't sell. From fragrant medicinal tea to hypoallergenic cosmetics, she's got an answer for everything."
"That's… Uh… Amazing?" nothing against people who like organic stuff but I think I need something stronger to get rid of the Camembert smell.
"Just try her stuff," Fiona waved me off with Shizuke's grandma's calling card. "Papa swears his loyalty to her soaps, shampoos, and lotions. He says they're effective, like magic."
Say what?! THE Feodor Kuznetsov of Hera likes Shizuke's grandma's stuff?! That prissy pink haired jewelry designer is infamous for being knit picky! If he doesn't like something, he'd throw a hissy fit until it gets replaced with something up to his high standards! THIS guy happens to like what Shizuke's grandma sells? If this is true then…
"... It's worth a look."
0-0-0-0-0
And that's how I find myself here, standing in front of a pair of glass doors with a wooden sign hanging above that says 'Haruji's Garden'. It's just a couple of blocks away from school; I can walk here without the Liungs knowing. There's a wide assortment of flowers on display, from classic roses to exotic orchids, all of it arranged in combinations I didn't think would fit yet the way they're presented just works. But that's not what I'm here for.
I pushed through the doors and was greeted by my bespectacled classmate from the counter.
"Good afternoon and welcome to Haruji's –" upon seeing my beautiful face, Shizuke's customer-friendly smile sunk into a frown. "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"
Before I can speak, Shizuke yelped in pain as a short old lady with a cane appeared from behind him to pinch his ear.
"SHIZUKE! THAT IS NO WAY TO TREAT A CUSTOMER!"
… Yup. Without a doubt, the old lady in a mint green kimono must be Shizuke's grandma.
The old lady quickly let go of Shizuke's ear and smiled serenely at me like she hadn't just disciplined her grandson in front of me.
Shizuke was gingerly rubbing his ear when his grandmother nudged him. He let out a groan before he forced a smile on his face, all teeth showing like an angry dog, and said in the flattest tone I've ever heard from him, "Welcome. How may I help you?"
I snorted at his efforts.
His eye twitched but the rest of his face is frozen in forced politeness. "Well?"
"I was wondering if you have something like…"
C'mon, Blair! This is just Shizuke! Keagan's nerd friend who doesn't like you! There's no impressing this guy at all but…
I scratched the back of my head and said, "… Like an air freshener? For my room."
Like me, hate me, it doesn't matter. Saying 'I need something to stop stinking like rotten cheese' will never not be humiliating no matter who I'm talking to!
Plagg snickered within my purse and I slapped it down hard, hoping nobody noticed.
Shizuke narrowed his eyes but said nothing as he walked out of the counter and directed me towards a shelf full of bottles, candles, incenses and other knick knacks.
"Is there anything specific you're looking for?"
I can't tell if he's sassing me or not with how flat he sounded.
"We sell a lot of products that is 'like an air freshener' and lucky you, they're all used for 'rooms'."
Conclusion: He's totally sassing me.
"I don't know, just something to get rid of this bad smell that lingers in my room. I don't care what scent you give me as long as it could get rid of the smell," I couldn't help the disgust that crept into my tone as I thought about Camembert.
"How bad is it?" Shizuke asked with a deadpan stare.
It's too embarrassing to describe.
Shizuke is giving me a judgemental once over.
I glared at him, daring him to say something about me.
He dared.
"Are you sure this is ONLY about your room?"
Saving me from reacting, Shizuke's grandma poked his leg with her cane making him yelp in shallow pain. "That is no way to talk to a lady!"
I snickered at Shizuke's karma.
"Alright, let me rephrase that: Can I interest you in our SOAPS or PERFUMES?"
I glared at the blunt nerd and his not-so-subtle insults. Shizuke glared back with his scary shiny glasses. The old lady groaned and decided to do things her way.
"Don't worry, I've got just the thing," the old lady went into a door behind the counter and just as quickly returned with a small bottle of what I assume to be orange scented oil.
She handed me the bottle, which I carefully examined. "So, am I to burn this over a candle or something?"
"No, that's not for your room. If that smell in your room is as bad as you say it is, I suggest finding the source and either get rid of it or contain it. It should air out eventually."
Fat chance of that happening. I'd rather put up with it than give up my Miraculous.
"That bottle is for you. Just a drop to rub on your pulse should do it."
I pouted at her but said no more. The bottle of oil doesn't look impressive. Surprisingly, it doesn't smell like oranges when I sniffed it. It smelled rather earthy yet refreshing, like wood with the bark freshly peeled off and a hint of lemon zest. There's something nostalgic about it… My eyes widen when I remembered and I looked at the old lady.
… Did Mom used to buy from her?
"I'll take it," I reached over for my wallet as I asked, "How much?"
"Oh, no need," the old lady waved me off. "Think of it as an apology for my grandson's rudeness."
"Grandma!" Shizuke protested.
"She's your classmate, isn't she? The one with the red hair in all those magazines you bought?"
"Okay fine! Whatever," Shizuke grumbled something under his breath as he went over the counter to do whatever it is that cashiers do.
"You have my magazines?"
I raised a questioning brow at Shizuke which he willfully ignored while continuing to grumble something, but this time he's doing it in what I can only guess is Japanese. I snickered. So, is he just playing hard to get or is he some kind of tsundere?
The old lady took back my bottle and put it in a paper bag and then gave the package to Shizuke. The two muttered things to each other back and forth, all in Japanese. With a resigned look, he took the paper bag and turned to me.
"Grandma no kandai-sa o aete riyo shinaide," he growled like a curse, probably thinking to himself without noticing he said it out loud like he tends to do.
"Say what?"
Shizuke blinked as if he forgot he was speaking Japanese. "Uhm, I hope this helps?"
"Somehow, I get the feeling that's not what you actually said but for your sake, I'm gonna pretend it is,~" I said with a wink, just to annoy him.
Forcing a smile full of gritted teeth, he gave me my freebies. "Here you go. Have a nice day. Goodbye!"
"Yeah, A-plus customer service for you," I said with a finger gun.
Prompted by a nudge from his grandmother, Shizuke stiffly bowed at me. "Please come again."
"We'll see about that."
When I got home, I tried the oil. I didn't notice a difference until I'm out of my room and Blake is no longer pointing out how I smell like camembert… Just my room. I can live with that.
Okay, Shizuke may suck at customer service but his grandma sure has the goods. I'm definitely coming back.
0-0-0-0-0
Shizuke
After school, I help around the shop however I can. I rearrange the flowers and their pots, organize the shelves of various supplies, label everything, sweep the floor… All so all that's left for my grandmother to do tomorrow is to unlock the door, flip the open sign and wait at the counter. On the days I'm not preoccupied with Judo Club or dragging Kaji to fencing practice, I take over cashier duty. Today, Blair Crawford happened to be a customer I had to assist. It was a very trying time, but I guess I can cross out 'being a difficult customer' off her list of evil deeds.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead as I finished cleaning the counter. It only took me fifteen minutes. And it's almost time for dinner.
"Shizuke, I think it's about time you try to patch things up with Chat Noire," Tikki said from her perch hidden among the flowers.
It's been over two weeks since we split up and there hasn't been a day where Tikki wouldn't try to gently talk me into trying to fix things between me and my wayward alley cat of a partner.
"No," I flatly said.
Tikki followed me as I crept up the stairs to my apartment. "But she's your partner! You're supposed to be a team!"
There she goes again, telling me how the Ladybug and the Black Cat make the ultimate duo.
"Have more faith in Chat Noire. You're partners; opposites meant to complement each other. I know hundreds of Ladybugs who would attest to how reliable their Black Cat partner is. You can count on her."
Different words, same old message… And to think I used to believe it.
I wish I could still believe it.
"You once said hundreds of Ladybugs found their Black Cat partner reliable, but exactly how many Ladybugs were there?"
Tikki looked solemn when she said, "More than anyone can count. But not all of them had a Black Cat for a partner."
"But not all Black Cat partners are reliable. Am I right?"
At my statement, Tikki tensed up. "Every Ladybug and Black Cat dynamic is different, Shizuke."
I've been itching to ask Tikki about this since Kaji's presentation… I knew Kaji was right from the way Tikki acted wistful after class that day.
"Where was Joan's Black Cat when she burned at the stake?"
Tikki's antennae drooped at the mention of that tragedy and her big blue eyes looked like to be on the verge of tearing up. Seeing her this sad… I felt a stab of guilt tear through me for causing that.
"Sorry Tikki, I went too far there."
Tikki shook her head. "It happened a long time ago. You wouldn't be the first to ask about Joan…"
'Nor would you be the last' went unspoken between us.
"But it still hurts for you to think about her," I petted Tikki's head with my finger. "I won't pry anymore if you don't want to talk about it."
"It's okay, I'll be fine. Just know that it wasn't her Black Cat's fault. He did his best… It just wasn't enough. He died long before her trial. They're among the most tragic Ladybug and Black Cat pairs, but their partnership is the one thing they never regretted, short-lived as it was."
We were silent for a moment, giving Tikki time to reminisce of happier times with the French Saint who was also a Ladybug. It also gave me time to think about my own partnership with this generation's Black Cat. Tragedy aside, I'd like to have a partnership I could proudly say I didn't regret too.
"SHIZUKE, DINNER IS READY!!!" my grandmother shouted from behind the door.
That's when I realized we stuck around the stairs a little too long and my grandmother didn't wait for me to make dinner. I rushed up the stairs with Tikki zooming close behind. A quick pause at the door to make sure Tikki has was tucked into my sweater vest pocket, and then I entered my apartment.
Tikki's right. This fight we're having can't go on forever…
"At least I get things done," Chat Noire said with a condescending smirk. "I don't know what the guardian ever saw in you but you're not good enough for the Ladybug Miraculous. Don't come crying to me if an akuma manages to kick your incompetent overworked butt!"
… But that cat sure makes it hard for me to feel apologetic.
0-0-0-0-0
Chat Noire
After having defeated yet another akuma on my own and yet another argument with Ladybug for stealing his thunder - and the akuma victim for the day turns out to be yet another Ladybug fan, ugh - I decided to leave him to his akuma-hugger routine and blow off some steam. I know when I'm not wanted.
While I'm no longer patrolling and training with Ladybug every flipping day, that doesn't mean I don't patrol or train at all. I just do it at my own pace - a pace that wouldn't give me permanent eye bags. A model can't have that after all. My parkour practice around the city was interrupted when I heard a scream. Seeing the annoying bug isn't around this part of the city at the moment, I guess I'm gonna have to come to this person's rescue.
"Help! Like, somebody help!" a woman screamed. I saw her running down an alley, looking behind her from time to time as though looking for pursuers.
I jumped down from the building I was standing on, just in front of the woman.
"What's the problem?"
Upon seeing me, the woman's demeanor quickly changed from scared civilian to something like an annoyed fisherman who snagged a boot instead of the fish he was aiming for.
"Where's Ladybug?" the woman crossed her arms over her probably fake chest partially covered by her probably fake blonde hair. Now that I got a closer look at her, she doesn't seem to be that much older than me. Probably a senior highschool student - one of those vain popular ones who likes to believe they're hotter than me.
"On the other side of city," not that I really know for sure, but as if I'd tell her that. I crossed my arms in a mock imitation of her pose which, might I add, I'm pulling off better than her. "Where's your problem?"
"Oh please. Aren't you like, busy not doing your job or something?" the woman huffed, pouting her thick pink lips. "Seriously, where's your hot partner? I needed him to save me like an hour ago."
"From what? A broken nail?"
"From an akuma! I just wrecked that loser like so harshly she should totally be an akuma by now! I even wasted my soda on her!"
Suddenly, I pictured a gangly girl wearing a coke stained Ladybug-themed jacket. Pimply with buck teeth and shaggy brown hair, not much to look at. She was crying her eyes out as Ladybug tried to cheer her up. She was the akuma I just defeated, tearing down the streets the way this stupid girl tore her down.
"Serves her right for thinking she has a chance with Ladybug. He's way out of her league."
"So you decided to akumatize her just so Ladybug will come to your rescue? Just because you think you're within his league?"
"Yeah? And?"
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I grabbed her by the shoulders, my claws digging into her skin just enough to make her wince in pain but not enough to make her bleed. "You shouldn't akumatize people just so you can start your very own rescue romance!"
"You can't be serious."
"Just 'cause I don't have a stick up my ass like Ladybug, doesn't mean I can't be serious," my vision narrowed in a way that tells my pupils have thinned into slits. "Akumas are not a laughing matter. Don't give them a reason to chase you around town."
The stupid girl dared to roll her eyes at me. "Says the chick who cracks lame puns around them."
One tight squeeze from my clawed hands was enough for her to dial back the sass. "I mean it! Don't ever akumatize people for petty reasons! Got it?"
"Or you'll what?" a bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face betrayed her fear, ruining her facade of nonchalance.
I wanted to say I'd scratch her skin 'til she bleeds, give her a taste of what harm an akuma could do, and ruin her clothes with Cataclysm for extra measure…
I closed my eyes and let her go. This isn't what a hero would do.
I shouldn't sink to her level.
"Just don't do it again," I shot her an acid green glare.
"You're all bark and no bite, kitty cat. No wonder you're just the sidekick," the stupid girl scoffed and had the nerve to flip her hair arrogantly - just like I do. "This is why only perverts like you."
It took all my strength not to pounce on her as she turned her back and left. I don't know how Ladybug keeps up his goody-goody act around bitches like these… and he's the one with the temper between the two of us. I shook my head and decided a nice run around the city is in order. I need to keep a cool head and not let myself get akumatized.
Days like these, I could almost forget why on earth I ever signed up for this thankless job. To think my parents sacrificed so much for these people.
Passing by a billboard that featured Blake reminded me of why I even wanted to be a hero. Those emerald green eyes and that mischievous smirk… They didn't just mirror mine. They belonged to a hero this city doesn't acknowledge.
This isn't for the people like the stupid girl earlier. There are people in this city who deserve to be protected. It's for them that I take up my Miraculous and carry on.
No bug will get in my way. I'll be the only hero this city needs.
0-0-0-0-0
Notes:
What Shizuke said to Blair when he gave her the freebies was "Don't you dare take advantage of Grandma's generosity." Not sure if this is a good translation, I just got it from Google Translate. If anyone knows a better way to phrase this in Japanese, I'm open to suggestions. Just note that even in Japanese, he calls his grandmother Haruji "Grandma". In contrast to how he calls his parents "Okaa-san" and "Otou-san", it comes off as more casual to show that despite how stern his grandma is, he felt closer and more relaxed around her than his parents. Plus, she's the one who taught him English, so it kinda made sense she'd go by "Grandma" rather than "Obaa-san".
Ugh, storm season is hitting me hard this year. After over a week of no electricity, yet another storm comes along. It's only been 3 days since I got electricity back and I just barely managed to edit up Ego Split P4. I wanted to add a bonus chapter but that's just gonna have to wait. For now, enjoy this chapter. And thank you, TheScarlettWitch0984 for telling me your opinion on whether or not I should keep Scorched Origins separate. I appreciate the feedback.