Caline Bustier made her last stroke on the chalkboard to complete her instructions, then turned around to address her class face-to-face. They did not look happy at the homework she was about to assign.

"That will be all for today, class. Over the weekend, each of you will need to write a two-page paper about your personal philosophy. Simply stating what you think of the world will not be sufficient for this exercise. You will need to reference the material we have covered on different philosophies of self and identify one that closest matches what you believe to be the meaning of your life and your main goal for yourself.

"Naturally, with such a focus on your individual thoughts, it will be fairly easy to tell if your paper was copied from or completed by someone else," she added, slightly shifting her gaze to land on the two girls sitting in the front row on her left.

"Bah, as if!" Chloé spat. "I don't need Sabrina to tell me who I am, I already know!"

The rich girl stood up. "And I don't need goals, I'm already at the top of the ladder! Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!"

"Just be careful not to fall, Queen Bee." Alix mocked.

Miss Bustier saw the snarl even before Chloé turned around. "Shut up, fashion rag! You wouldn't know the first thing about being a superhero if I Commanded you myself! Did Ladybug ever entrust you with a miraculous?"

"It doesn't matter if she did," Alya cut in, "because Ladybug has strict rules about keeping secret identities. Only you were ever stupid enough to out yourself."

"If I'm so stupid, how come I know that you're–"

The sound of her saying Rena Rouge was drowned out by a large crashing sound. Marinette had fumbled over her bag, falling into the aisle and spilling the bag's contents. The bell signifying the formal end of class rung followed suit.

"Well at least you're not as bad as Clumsinette here," Chloé said, looming over the girl on the floor. "You don't need to worry about your paper, Dupain-Cheng, because you're too klutzy to accomplish anything no matter how much you want it. Ladybug wouldn't entrust you with a miraculous even if everyone else in the city was akumatized."

She stuck her nose in the air as she grabbed her bag. "Come on, Sabrina, we're leaving," she declared, strutting out of the classroom. The red-headed girl looked to the floor, and Miss Bustier thought she saw a slight hesitation, a glance in the direction of the others. But then she scurried away as well, and the notion was lost to the wind.

The teacher shook her head as the rest of the class packed their own things. Ever since Chloé's parents got akumatized into Heart Hunter last month, there had been a lot of disarray in her classroom. Chloé had doubled down on her arrogance and insults, but most of the other students had stopped putting up with it, so arguments broke out frequently. Marinette had bags growing under her eyes that she thought she could hide with concealer, pretending that everything was fine whenever her concerned friends asked her about it. Adrien's eagerness to learn and connect was also diminishing, slowly being replaced by the sluggish demeanor she usually only saw when he was leaving to go home.

She suspected there was something more to it, but if there was, none of them would speak of it. She had already attempted to encourage Marinette to confide in her, but she only received the same insistent denial the bluenette gave everyone else. She suggested the same to Adrien or advised that he try to see the school counselor, but he said it wouldn't change anything and refused to consider it further.

It wasn't even worth trying with Chloé, because it was clear that she couldn't care less what Caline, or any other adult in Paris not named Audrey Bourgeois, had to say to her. Punishing her within her jurisdiction as a teacher would be cheap retribution and result in nothing. Principal Damocles was too scared of Mayor Bourgeois to act on anything seriously enough to warrant the city's intervention.

The only way Chloé could be helped would be when she's ready to help herself, and for that Miss Bustier's only hope was positive role modeling from the other students. They were the only people whose opinions or actions Chloé might bring herself to care about; this went especially for Marinette, who, above anyone else, was the kind of person who might be able to get her to listen. Unfortunately, that hope seemed far out of reach now, because whatever was currently plaguing the blue-haired girl was just as mysterious as what had spurred her sudden courage to stand against Chloé to begin with last year.

Caline worried that maybe she herself was part of the problem. Maybe she pushed too much on Marinette to accept and show kindness to someone who for years had done nothing but the opposite in return, and earned the girl's ire as a result.

There was nothing she could do for any of them now.

Marinette sighed in relief as the girl who had nearly just been outed herself helped her off of the floor. Sometimes her ability to create a big mess came in handy.

"Alya, what was that about?" she asked as they walked toward the exit. You should've known better, knowing that she knows, she added in her head.

"Oh, uh, nothing, ha ha. Chloé concocting some crazy rumor, I'm sure."

"Well, you shouldn't goad her like that. She may not be as good at spinning lies as Lila, but she can sling some nasty insults, as you heard her demonstrate to me. There's a lot more where that came from."

The brunette grew quiet. Marinette didn't tell her much about her life before the two of them had met; Alya knew it was a sensitive subject. She didn't need to know the side of her that had lived in fear each day, a barely-together, anxious disaster who couldn't do anything right… way more than she was today. She wanted to move past that and be strong, and reliving those memories would only set her back. Alya was respectful of this; she even promised to suppress her journalist instinct telling her to interrogate all their classmates about it.

The two friends stepped outside into the sunlight of a rather chilly day and waved their goodbyes as they went their separate ways towards home. Despite that, Marinette could still feel the cloud of turmoil over herself as she thought about the fates of herself and her tormenter.

Miracle Queen occurred a month ago. Her assumption had been that, over time, Chloé's anger and resentment would subside as the reality of her actions set in. But it hadn't; it actually appeared to be getting worse. Maybe… she wasn't able to cope with the idea. Pollen had said that she had no concept of earning or deserving. If that was true, then perhaps Chloé simply couldn't understand why it was that she was never going to be a hero anymore?

No, that didn't make sense. The first time she entrusted Chloé with the Bee Miraculous, it was because Chloé wanted to be useful and liked by… well, anyone. Using the miraculous was supposed to teach her what kindness was and how to look out for others. She knew that. And then it became too risky because she got akumatized when her parents were used against her. She knew that too.

The conclusion hit Marinette like a speeding car, causing her to stop where she was. Then she saw an actual speeding car about to hit her, and she stumbled forward out of the crosswalk that her epiphany had placed her right in the middle of, barely making it before she tripped and landed hard on the ground.

Her purse rumbled on its own. "Marinette?" Tikki's muffled voice came from within.

She stood up and dusted herself off from her certified Clumsinette moment before opening the purse to speak to her ever-present companion. "Sorry, Tikki. I just realized something important. We can talk once we get home."

It was, of course, a very short walk. There were only a few customers when she entered the bakery, which was a shame as she could smell the freshly baked bread from the oven in the back. Her mom was behind the counter, as usual for this time of day, and she gave her a kiss as she passed behind the counter.

"Nice save, dear," Sabine whispered, discretely passing her an ice pack and causing her to blush.

"Yeah, thanks…" she grumbled.

The vertical trip to her bedroom went uninterrupted. Marinette briefly reflected on the fact that her scrambled brain had just nearly gotten her gravely injured, yet this sort of thing happened often enough that neither she nor her mother paid it a second thought. She made for her chaise to sit and apply the ice to her chest area while Tikki let herself out.

"So, what's this revelation of yours?"

"It's about Chloé," she replied with a huff, "and how I totally screwed up."

"We talked about this already, Marinette. You had no way of knowing she'd do that."

"It's not about what she did. It's about what I did, to her."

Tikki looked ready to respond, but she allowed her wielder to continue.

"For as long as I've known her, Chloé has been nothing but an entitled brat. She's selfish, cruel, and petty. After meeting her mother, it became obvious where she got it from. I figured she had no idea what a good person even was.

"However, I told Stompp a couple weeks ago that I believe people are good at heart… and that means Chloé should be no exception. I mean, there must be something Adrien sees in her if he continues to be her friend even after seeing how awful her behavior is. What I've realized is that I've been thinking about this completely backwards.

"The whole reason she took the Bee Miraculous was to be different than her mother, to show that she was exceptional in her own way and not just by riding on the money and power of her parents. By giving the miraculous back, she swallowed her pride and decided to take the road where she earns Ladybug's trust, and she promised to do good when I offered it to her again. She wanted to fix her messes, which includes the one where she threw away the idea of keeping a secret identity.

"For once in her life, Chloé had hope of getting to a place where people might genuinely like her and look up to her. And then, through no further fault of her own, I took it away from her."

Her kwami closed her eyes for a moment, taking in and releasing a deep breath.

"I see what you're saying. However, there are two major problems here. First and foremost, you can't hold yourself responsible for Chloé's emotional development. As Roaar has no doubt told you, everyone is their own person, and Chloé is no exception to that either. She may default to copying her mother in every aspect, but that is still her choice of behavior and not Mrs. Bourgeois'. If she really wants to be different and better than that woman, then that is something she must also choose to take on herself. You have no obligation to do anything for her just because you know her plight; if Chloé needs your help, it is on her to ask for it.

"This brings me to the second issue, which is that you don't have the capacity for that. Your reason for taking away the Bee Miraculous was just – your top priority is defeating Hawk Moth, and having Chloé use a miraculous is detrimental to that due to the risks that come with it. It's noble for you to want to help her and help Chat Noir and help everyone around you, and that endless heart is part of what makes you such a great Ladybug and person in general. But Daizzi's advice applies to them just as much as it does to Adrien. You are but one person, and you need to take care of yourself and focus on the immediate problems."

Marinette took in a breath of her own, releasing a major sigh, which was interrupted by a cough as the pain in her chest flared up. "… You're right. It's not like there's anything I can do for her now anyway. She's not going to listen to Ladybug, and Marinette isn't supposed to know any of this. The only person who could be of any help is… Adrien."

Adrien… she thought wistfully, before blinking herself out of it. She needed to resist the temptation to daydream about his kind, pure soul. Sabrina was technically another option, but the odds of her listening to Ladybug over Chloé were low; the odds of Chloé listening to Sabrina were almost as bad. And while Adrien was her only other friend… for the longest time, the reverse was true as well. He had a soft spot for her, like when he didn't celebrate her leaving Paris, so it was possible he would be unwilling to tell her anything she may not want to hear.

Tikki peering closer at her pulled her from her thoughts. "Maybe we should give this a rest for now," she suggested. "I think it would be more productive to focus on your homework assignment."

"I suppose it would, because how the heck am I going to write a two-page paper in one weekend?"

The teen stood and walked to the rim of her bed to pull down the massive screen attached underneath it. It was a yearly calendar that dwarfed her in size, and the current month's page was filled to the brim with tiny scribbles. She had Adrien's full schedule in green, times for activities her friends were up to in yellow, blocks allotted for fashion work (blue), homework (red), and babysitting gigs and helping her parents in the bakery, because they still wanted that (orange). The blank space was filled with complicated notes, arrows to other timeslots, and pre-written excuses in purple in case any of those things got interrupted by an akuma.

It was no wonder that she couldn't do anything eventful more than once every few days. They were like episodes of interest in a season's worth of tasks and duties.

However, fate had decided to be purple today, as before she could even begin to go through her weekend plans, her phone buzzed longer than usual with a loud tone. She knew that could only mean one thing as she pulled the device out to look at it.

Marinette sighed. "Looks like we're taking care of Chloé after all," she said in Tikki's direction. The kwami looked just as unamused as she did.

The location of the akuma was the Marchanderie boutique. It was a relatively well-known boutique, owned and operated by the Marchand family, and it had been a massive success from its very first day. This was in part because it was also a favorite shopping location of Chloé Bourgeois; evidently, the rich girl had gone for some serious retail therapy after class and either got someone akumatized again or became akumatized herself… also again. And she did it in record time.

"Tikki, spots on!" Marinette announced, and Tikki disappeared into her earrings as a red light washed down her body and formed her bodysuit.

Only a few blocks away was the pleasant, forest green façade of Marchanderie, nestled on the ground floor beneath several stories of apartments like so many of Paris' businesses. The exterior had no obvious signs of damage from a fight, though it was clear that one was ongoing due to all the people fleeing the area.

Ladybug flipped down to street level in front of the building and cautiously let herself in. Almost immediately, a black clump was thrown in her direction, and she readied herself with her arms held out to catch what was evidently her partner fighting a losing battle.

She latched on through Chat Noir's armpits, cushioning his landing and preventing him from toppling to the floor.

"Well, well, look who's early today!" she remarked, looking down at him. "Looks like curiosity almost killed the cat before I got here."

"The satisfaction of seeing you would have brought me back, Milady. Even if you're a little Late-ybug."

She gave him a very bemused look as he stood. "So what I'm hearing is you had plenty of time to learn about the akuma! Spill up, chaton."

He turned and bowed. "Ma Cherie, follow me through Marchanderie. One of the employees saw it all happen, and he wanted to wait until we were both here so he wouldn't be at risk twice."

They leapt into action, making small hops to remain hidden behind the circular racks of clothing. Ladybug was quickly able to spot glimpses of the akuma as they cleared the entryway, since the boutique wasn't all that big. Chat led his partner to the dressing rooms on the far side, where she could see the full scene.

The supervillain looked like she was made of wood. Her head and torso had merged into a single, sleek shape, like a mannequin. Her limbs, however, were detached, with thick strings running through pieces of wood roughly in the shapes of arms and legs to her appendages, like a marionette. While she couldn't see the feet, the akuma's hands had a similar structure. Five smaller strings branched out from each one leading to the individual fingers, some of which had connected themselves to hangars with items of clothing on them. The three middle fingers of her right hand extended in their direction, with shirts and pants that were flapping about on their own in what appeared to be a spirited fighting stance. The three of the other hand extended towards the wall, holding up a set of clothing currently being worn by one Chloé Bourgeois, who was struggling to free herself.

Chat tugged on her suit, and she turned away to meet their witness. Crouched in one of the stalls was a man, tall and well-built, with piercing brown eyes and dirty blonde hair slicked back but still voluminous. His outfit was similar to a concierge's, wearing a coat that was the same forest green as the storefront with its sleeves folded back at the three-quarters mark, and black slacks. On his coat was a nametag reading, 'Raoul'.

"Okay, we're both here now," Ladybug whispered. "What's the rundown?"

"That's my little sister out there," Raoul hissed in a commanding baritone. She noticed that he was looking directly at her and not at Chat. "That Chloé is a piece of work. I don't know what got her goat, but Marceline just became old enough to work here. She wasn't ready for a Bourgeois peak temper tantrum."

"I see," the heroine replied. "And she can animate those clothing items by connecting to them?"

"Yeah, and they pack a real punch for 100% cotton!" Chat certified.

"Does she have any other powers? Also, has she loudly announced her supervillain name yet?"

"Not that I know of, and yes. Mannequette, she declared herself."

"Okay. Hopefully, this will be rather simple. Once we pull our daily special, that is."

"Lucky Charm!" she shouted, throwing her yo-yo into the air to exude a multitude of hearts. The hearts formed together into a wide red rectangular stand, with a matching cylinder sticking out of the top on one side that had a piece stretching to the other, shorter side. It then fell into Ladybug's hands.

"A tape dispenser. Looks simple to me," Chat Noir commented.

"I don't think so," Raoul disputed rather sharply. "Akumas usually have super strength, right? Do you really think that tape will hold her or her strings?"

Ladybug gave him a peculiar look. "I mean, we'll probably need to tape together some contraption to wrap her or her strings up in to get them stuck. Why, did you have another idea?"

"I think I should talk to her, see if I can get her to stand down."

"That's not going to work," Chat objected immediately. "Akumas almost never listen to reason, especially not when Chloé's the one that angered them. She's… not exactly morally defensible."

"Maybe not from you," he remarked, earning a look of surprise from the cat hero, "but I'm her brother. We have a really strong bond, like that of your tape there. That ought to fight against whatever emotional disturbance the akuma is having on her, at least enough for you to grab her akumatized object. As much as I don't like Chloé, it's a risk to fight… Mannequette when she has the brat hostage like that. She could even be used as a human shield against us."

"That is a good point," Ladybug considered, putting a hand to her chin in thought. He must care for his sister a lot. The way he paused there, he really didn't like referring to her with an akuma's name. "It's worth a shot, I think. Do you know where the akumatized object is?"

"No, I didn't see that part. I was working on the computer in the back here."

"Unfortunate," she said, before looking at him with concern. "And you're sure you can handle going out into an akuma fight? Know that we'll both be right there to protect you."

His eyes met hers with ferocity. "Yes. I'll do anything to protect Marcie. And the longer we sit, the longer she keeps torturing Chloé. You probably don't want that."

"No, we don't. Let's go."

"Dance, Chloé! Dance!"

Mannequette's voice sounded raspier than a normal person's, but not like she was sick; rather, it seemed to be dampened from her wooden frame. Luka could probably explain how those acoustics works.

Ladybug peered out to see that Chloé was indeed being forced to move her limbs through the clothing, the motions clunky and uncoordinated. Her pained expression showed that that she was definitely not having a good time.

"Okay, here's the plan. Chat will get her attention first while I escort Raoul over. Only evade, don't fight back – we want her to see that we don't mean her harm."

"Man, distraction duty again?" her partner complained.

"Would you rather me do it?" Raoul replied sarcastically.

The spotted heroine suppressed a chuckle. That was good, but you don't have to be so mean about it. "I have the Lucky Charm that Raoul will need, and my shield can defend him better. It's only logical."

"Alright, alright. One costume show coming right up."

He leapt onto one of the clothing racks, then to another farther to the side from them, and pointed his staff at their foe. "Hey, you can't have a dance party and not invite Chat Noir!"

Both of the humans looked his way, and the clothes turned towards him in imitation. "I would never invite someone with such improper attire. Fortunately, I have a selection here just for you."

Mannequette flicked with her right hand and the clothing moved into action towards him. Just as planned.

Nodding to Raoul, Ladybug ducked into one of the racks of clothes, then peered out of the other side to make sure the coast was clear. She ducked, tucked, and dove her way through the racks, while the non-powered boy calmly walked in a crouch through the open space between them. Around 5 meters away from the akuma was as far as they dared before Raoul decided to speak.

"Marcie!" he called, standing to get her attention. "It's Raoul, your brother!"

"Yes, I haven't forgotten you were here, Raulie," the wooden villain replied calmly, keeping her attention on Chat Noir. Currently, a 200€ cashmere sweater was trying to wrap its sleeve around the hero while an equally expensive pair of jeans went to sweep him off his feet, which he hopped over.

"Have you forgotten that I'm here?!" Chloé yelled from her cloth captivity. "Ladybug, do something!"

I am, if you would have some patience, the heroine thought, trying to scan the villain for any conspicuous attached objects. There wasn't a lot of space for something to be hiding, but nothing stood out to her.

"Marcie, please put Chloé down. Hawk Moth has corrupted you; you're not thinking straight. You don't have to do this!"

"Why not?!" she shouted. She crossed her left hand over her right, bringing her captive with her.

Ladybug immediately spotted what she had been looking for: Mannequette's left thumb had a tapered gray knob attached to it, unlike her other fingers. The only problem was that it was nice and close to her captive.

"Look at this," she continued, giving the outfit and girl inside a good shake, "Whiny, demanding, spoiled airhead, pushing me and half of Paris around like the whole city was built for her.

"Fetch this," she mocked, forcing Chloé to make matching gestures, "I don't want that, what gutter did you drag this out of, it's not expensive enough!"

Off in the background, she moved a faux-fur jacket to try and eat the black-clad hero, and the jeans went for a wicked front kick at his head. He moved backwards to avoid both.

"And you think you can scare her straight by playing with her like a doll?"

"I'm just showing her what it's like when the entitled elite force you to dance to their tune and do whatever," she shook the hangar for emphasis, "they, want. Dance, Chloé!"

Ladybug couldn't watch any more. "Stop it!" she yelled, jumping out from her hiding place. "Listen to your brother! This isn't going to accomplish anything! She doesn't deserve this!"

The deeper voice that came out next startled her. "Oh, she deserves it alright," Raoul interjected. "Listen here, Chloé, because I'm under no influence at all. Everything my sister said is true. Your petty actions akumatized her, and now you pay the price."

"No…" the heroine gasped, her hand moving to her mouth as her eyes went wide. "You tricked me!"

Her shock turned to anger, and she threw her yo-yo at the older boy. Having wrapped him up, she yanked him back and carried him back to the dressing rooms in one leap.

Mannequette grew enraged as well, crossing her left hand back and carelessly throwing Chloé into the discount bin in the back to turn her full attention to her brother's snatcher. The clothes fighting Chat Noir were similarly pulled to face her, and her remaining fingers shot out to pick up more puppeted minions.

This freed the cat hero to return to Ladybug's side, who had herself returned from taping up Raoul. "What's our backup plan, Bugaboo?"

She looked around for anything that might be useful to her. Aha! The tape… the fingers and hangars…

"The answer really was simple. Help me round up the clothing."

They leapt into the fray, Ladybug pulling on her tape as she faced down a haughty-looking suit jacket. She dodged a straight punch and stuck the end of her tape roll on, quickly encircling the article like she was capturing James Bond, before pulling it down and moving the tape around the hanger and attached finger to hold them together.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Mannequette complained, attempting to shake any part of her now useless clothed fighter loose to no avail.

"The fashion police called," Chat snarked. He engaged a mink scarf, which swayed back and forth like a snake. When it lunged at him, he twirled his staff to entangle it. "These clothes are under arrest for being criminally overpriced."

He winked at Ladybug as she moved in sync to tape it up, easily sliding his weapon free afterward due to the soft material. It got her to smile, and he considered that a win. Angry Ladybug was much less fun to fight alongside.

The jeans came back in with a slide kick, which Chat grabbed the extended leg of and wrapped around the hangar for easy sticking. They took down the cashmere sweater comfortably, bagged the fur jacket inside of a baggy pair of trousers, and twirled up a long dress that had attempted to dance with Ladybug. One of the fingers had even grabbed a pair of gloves, with only the tiny plastic connector and a small plastic hook holding the item in one piece.

"Why does that count?" Ladybug pouted as the gloves dove straight for her earrings. She grabbed and taped them without much effort.

Soon, Mannequette had run out of fingers, resorting to thrashing the clothes about to try and loose them or hit the heroes. Hawk Moth's butterfly insignia appeared, but whatever he said failed to get her to focus. Only the left thumb remained unattached to anything, and after slipping through the clothesline of defense, Ladybug simply popped off the gray knob and broke it.

"No more evildoing for you, little akuma," Ladybug said, opening her yo-yo like a ladybug opens its wings to the glowing white compartment within and swinging it to charge up.

"Time to de-evilize!"

The yo-yo caught the akuma in one swoop, closing up to perform its magic purification.

"Gotcha!"

She opened the compartment again, and a regular white butterfly flew up and away. "Bye-bye, little butterfly!"

Next, she threw the nearly empty tape dispenser in the air as well.

"Miraculous Ladybug!"

It burst into a swarm of ladybugs, which pretty much just tidied up the store, removing the tape from the clothes and from Raoul, returning the clothes back to the racks, and smoothing them out as if they had never left.

A dark substance covered Mannequette and dissolved into the ground, leaving a small teenaged girl on the ground, holding a gray magnetic tag remover.

"Pound it!" both miraculous holders cheered as they bumped fists.

Hawk Moth stood in his observatory, looking rather displeased. "Maybe I should have akumatized Chloé instead," he griped. He had decided against it because the girl's desires were turbulent and unclear in any given moment, and that made it hard to determine what sort of power he would be able to give her. It had been easier to go for the younger girl that Chloé was taking her frustrations out on, but it seemed the intensity of that rage was still insufficient to create a desire with real potential for beating the heroes.

He thought he had Chloé all figured out: she was consumed by a desire to be special, one so strong that she was able to reject his akuma and later chose to turn against Ladybug for taking away the opportunity she had to fulfill it. It had been satisfying to watch her clutch desperately at the Miracle Box, like a child trying to pick up pieces of a vase she shattered… but it seemed the rotten girl was the vase now, attempting to put herself back together with a result that would be unrecognizable. He supposed using a miraculous tended to cause such transformations to people.

As the lens lighting up the observatory closed, Hawk Moth smiled. At least one good thing had come out of this scenario. Manipulating Ladybug was no easy feat, and this Raoul Marchand had caught her hook, line, and sinker. He could prove very useful to him.

Angry Ladybug showed her face quickly as she marched over to Mr. Marchand. "What on earth were you thinking?!"

He met her glare with crossed arms. "You can't deny the truth, Ladybug. Chloé needed a kick in the rear."

"And you think an akuma is a good way to do it?! You compromised our whole strategy! It doesn't matter if she's your sister, akumatized villains are dangerous. I didn't say this before, but we've never actually managed to talk one down. You're lucky nothing serious happened. She could've lashed out at you."

"If anything, I'd say I gained more sympathy with her by saying what I did."

"Raulie!" a young-sounding voice cried. Chat had gone over to make sure Marcie was okay, and now she ran from his escort into her brother's arms.

"Marcie…" he said with relief. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

Again, he looked at Ladybug, this time with an expression that dared her to continue while he was holding his dear sister. She likely would have, but Chat Noir grabbed her gently by the shoulders and made her his next escort, walking towards the entrance.

"It's not worth it, Milady," he whispered. "Just let it go."

It wasn't until they were outside that she calmed down. "Thanks, chaton," she said, turning to face him. "I just can't believe people sometimes. Akumas are not a game."

"I wholeheartedly agree, Bugaboo."

The heroine now gave him a strange expression. "There's a 'but' coming."

His green eyes looked away. "Well… I can't say Raoul was exactly wrong, either."

"About Chloé? No way. She's been captured in the past by akumas she caused. Kung Food threatened to turn her into soup, and all she cared about was her hair."

"Maybe, but… that was before."

"It doesn't really matter, to be honest. She made her choice, and it wasn't to be on our side. If she wants to keep living like this, then so be it. I don't have the time or energy to worry about her."

Her earrings beeped. "Speaking of which, I've got to go. See you later, Chat."

Ladybug flopped down onto her bed from the balcony, her transformation dropping. She let herself lie for a minute while Tikki went to fetch a snack.

"At least the akuma was short today," the little being said as she munched on a cookie.

"Short but still tiring," Marinette replied. With a grunt, she forced herself to scooch to the end of her bed and climb down, where she could see her schedule that was still unfurled underneath. Her eyes wandered to a particular event early next week that was written in both purple and yellow. It was labelled, 'Ladybug and Chat Noir Anniversary Ceremony.'

Yeah, she really didn't have any space to make for Chloé. Adrien… probably didn't either, given who his father was, but maybe it would be worth asking. She decided she would need a second opinion on this, so she went over to open the hatch on the floor.

At the same time as she did so, the front door opened. The bluenette descended into the living room as her dad entered it.

"Done with the dough already, Papa?" she asked as they exchanged a light hug, one of his big arms matching her whole body.

"Yeah, it wasn't too busy today, so I had some spare time. Done with your homework already, muffin-top?"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't that be nice. I just got home not too terribly long ago. Actually, your timing is perfect. I came down because I had something to ask you."

"About your homework?" Tom asked, before shrugging at her. "I haven't touched algebra in a couple decades, but I guess I can try."

She smiled up at him. "No, silly. It's about, uh…" she fumbled for a response, "my friend Marc's writing! He asked me for, uh, advice about a social situation his characters are in, and I didn't have an exact answer for him. Most of the people he knows are introverts like him, so I really want to be able to help him out."

"Hm, okay… your mom would be better at that, but I guess I can try, still."

"Okay, so there's this one girl, and she's enemies with this other girl who's really mean to her, but then she finds out a secret about the girl that explains a lot of why she's mean. However, they have a mutual friend, and she knows the mean girl will never listen to her, so she wants to go to the friend so he can help, but she isn't sure if it's fair to drag him in or if it's okay to share the secret. Should she go through with it?"

"Yes, well, um, what I think is, er," Tom stalled, scratching the back of his head.

"I lost you, didn't I?"

"Around the word, 'enemies', yeah."

The teen facepalmed. "Uh, simple version is… I nee– I mean, this character needs her friend to help her enemy because she can't, but she thinks asking him to do it might be a bad idea. What should she do?"

"Hmm. Well, it might be best for the friend to decide for himself whether he should help. I don't think there's any harm in telling him her thoughts; if she thinks he's capable of helping, then she should trust that he'll do what he's comfortable with."

He motioned with his large hand for her to move towards the couch, and they both went to sit. "You know, your mom and I had some troubles like this when we first started dating. You know how she does a lot of small things here and there that seemingly mean nothing, but are actually preparing for just about everything that could possibly happen?"

"Yes, Papa, she saves me from my own clumsiness and forgetfulness all the time."

"Well, it can be hard to understand if you don't already know her. If those possibilities don't happen often, then it looks like she's unnecessarily superstitious. If they do, then you start to wonder if she expected you to fail and didn't have any faith in you."

Marinette clenched her fists with passion. "But that's not true at all! She's simply the most mindful person and best mom on the planet!"

"Right, and I know that – now. But it took some frustrating experiences for us to get to this point. She had to learn to start communicating what she was doing, and I had to learn to trust her actions without needing to question them. While we were obviously in it for the long haul, it's really not all that different for a platonic relationship. If this girl really has a solid friendship with this guy, she should be able to communicate her intentions without fear of ruining their connection and trust that whatever decision he makes is what he thinks is best."

"I see…" she pondered, digesting the story. Another connection was forming in her head – that of her superhero allies. Each time she recruited somebody, she was trusting them with a miraculous. And her instructions were clear every time: use the miraculous to aid in her plan to defeat the villain and then return it. It didn't line up with the moral of the story, which was trusting them to make the best decisions. She wasn't letting them make decisions at all. This was true even of Chat, at times, despite her not owning his miraculous.

"Thank you, Papa," she finally said to break the silence. "I think this will be very helpful for– my friend."

They hugged again, and Tom released a long yawn. "Now, as your parent, I should probably instruct you to finish your homework first, before you get too involved in passion projects."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Marinette replied as she stood. She could save this thought process for another time; it didn't mean anything until she answered the more troublesome question of whether it was safe to hand them out at all.

Right now, she would appreciate the clarity it gave her on the issue of Chloé. It couldn't hurt to ask Adrien about her. She knew she could trust him with this; it couldn't be that different than how she trusts Chat Noir against akumas, right?

It was the tail end of lunch the next day, after everyone had packed up to go to art class, when a great surprise tapped her on the shoulder from behind.

"Marinette!" Adrien greeted enthusiastically.

The spot on her shoulder suddenly radiated electricity, and she stiffened like a board. Like so, she waddled herself around, giving him an equally stiff smile. Focus, Marinette! she reminded herself, trying to relax. "A-Adrien! How's the, uh, going you?" I'm off to a great start, wouldn't you say?

"I have great news!"

"Oh!" she squealed a little too much. "What-what sort of good news? Like, a smidgeon good, or sort of good, or reeeaaallly good?" she said, putting her hands in front of her at corresponding distances.

"Reeeaaallly good," he replied, his smile widening with her gestures. "Remember last month, when I invited you to study mathematics sometime?"

"Y-yes, I sure do!" she confirmed. Remember how I said yes even though I have a boyfriend? "Wait, do you mean…?"

"He said yes!" he gleamed, true excitement now showing on his face. "Nathalie put it on my schedule for next week!"

"Wow, that– that's great! I mean, not that it can't happen until next week, and it's studying so it's not really, um, well..."

The excitement vanished, his demeanor drooping to a frown. "Unfortunately, that's the earliest I can do. I'm sorry it took so long to give you a response; I know we're basically done with the unit now."

The model walked around her, towards the door. "I'll text you the day and time, so you don't forget."

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant!" she said, tugging on his arm before he could get any farther. "I'm happy to study you–with you at any hour– uh, day!" She found herself staring almost directly into his green eyes due to how close she had pulled him, causing her to recoil back as if she had just touched the inside of the bakery oven.

"I, um, sorry! I just need to be in the right mood to get excited about mathematics, you know! I, you know, I have to go now, to do some mathematic measuring, in, uh, art class," she fibbed, now moving around him for the same purpose.

"Marinette, wait," he implored, freezing her solid before she could get any farther. Even glancing back over her shoulder, she could see that he was definitely looking directly at her now. "Is everything okay? You've been really skittish since yesterday. Truth be told, it seems like something's been off for a month or so now. Pretty much everyone in the class is worried about you."

"I'm fine," she answered quickly, the lie rolling a little too easily off her tongue, even through her dampened expression. "It's just that life has been pretty hectic recently, and I have a lot on my mind right now. It's not really something I want to talk about."

"… okay. Sorry I asked. See you later, then."

So much for that plan, she bemoaned in her head as she left the cafeteria. It was comforting that Adrien and the others cared about her, but there was nothing they could do as long as she had to keep her secret identity. Even Luka, who was unconditionally supportive of her, was limited in what he could know and therefore do. In that way, she and Chloé had something in common: they were each saddled with a problem that kept everyone at a distance, forced to face it on their own.