I'm nervous about posting this one. It's one of those chapters that I've had plotted since the beginning, so I really wanted to do it justice. There's a lot of plot in here, so if it's been a minute since you read this story, I'd recommend brushing up a little.
Also a huge thank you to those of you who left reviews. I can guarantee you I read each of them a million times to keep me motivated.
Right, well, have fun with this.
Enjoy ;)
"Do you think I could ever be… normal?" His eyes were full of yearning as he imagined what his life could be, without the pressure, without the responsibilities, but as quickly as his smile appeared, it disappeared. His expression became sorrowful and forlorn, and his gaze dropped as reality sank in.
"I wish I could just come here forever," he whispered softly.
He turned his head and met her gaze. She stared into his emerald eyes. They were so beautiful, but her heart broke at all the pain and sadness hidden behind them.
She gave him a sad smile. "Me too." She reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a small squeeze. "But for now, let's make the most of the time we have, okay?"
He looked at her for a long moment, some of the sorrow in his eyes leaking away. "Okay."
They laid there for a while, staring up at the sky with their hands intertwined between them. Occasionally Marinette glanced over at him. His face was still somber.
What could she do to cheer him up? He was always so energetic and full of wonder, so seeing him like this was foreign to her, and she wasn't sure what to do. Her eyes traveled around the orchard.
An idea struck her, and she sat up quickly, startling him. She stood, never letting go of his hand and pulling him up with her.
He stumbled as he tried to find his balance. "Mari, what are you-"
She held a finger to his lips and shushed him. "Come with me." Marinette dragged him down the aisle of apple trees they were in before cutting into the next. She weaved through the orchard swiftly, slowing when they reached an open area in the center of the orchard. There was one lonely apple tree in the middle, slightly taller than the others. Marinette led him up to it.
"Stay here for a second." She ran away towards the forest that lined the edge of the orchard, and when she returned, she held a small, pointed rock.
Adrien looked between her and the rock, confused.
Marinette grabbed his wrist and placed it in his palm. "Let's carve our names in the tree. So even if we can't be here together, we still are."
Adrien stared down at the rock, a soft smile making its way onto his face. He knelt in the grass at the base of the tree and began the slow task of carving his name into the bark. When he was done, he passed the rock to her, and she continued the tedious process, carving her name just above his.
When she finished, she sat back on her heels, admiring their work. The tree was beautiful before, but having their names adorning the trunk made it even more gorgeous in her eyes. She looked up at Adrien, who was standing next to her, and from the look on his face, he was thinking the same thing.
Suddenly his face became concerned. "Wait, I think you spelled your name wrong."
Marinette felt a rush of panic and turned back to the trunk. "Where?"
He pointed to each letter individually. "It's supposed to be P-R-I-N-C-E-S-S- ow!"
She had smacked his arm, feeling relieved that she didn't mess up the tree. "Don't scare me like that!"
He laughed, and hearing the musical sound made any annoyance in her dissipate. The sun briefly shone through the clouds on them, and soon the sound of his laughter grew muffled as the world around her blurred into darkness.
Marinette opened her eyes and was met with the sight of her tent's canvas. Whatever joy she had been feeling in the dream was gone, replaced by a gaping hole in her as she realized none of it was true, that she wasn't with him anymore.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a bubble of emotion rise in her throat. The memory hadn't crossed her mind in weeks; hell, he hadn't crossed her mind in weeks. How could she forget him? He was the reason she was here.
Her eyes stung as she remembered what happened soon after that dream. The memories came flooding back like a tidal wave: Adrien running towards his mother, Adrien hunched over her dead corpse, Adrien being dragged away while desperately trying to claw his way back to her. Flashes of it used to haunt her every single day, the sounds of his cries used to echo in her head constantly.
How could she forget about it all?
It wasn't hard for her to trace back to when she started to slip; she hadn't been distracted from her task before Chat Noir showed up. His initial appearance was jarring, so of course she was momentarily sidetracked, but what about after that? Once she'd started working with him, once she'd grown to be sort of friends with him, there was no reason for her to be distracted anymore.
So why was she?
She berated herself for daring to have fun when Adrien could be suffering somewhere. Everything with Chat Noir was impeding what she needed to do: find Adrien.
She needed to know if he was in the prison or not. Part of the reason she came to the revolution was to use it to get into the castle, but if Chat Noir freed Adrien along with the rest of the prisoners, then there was no point in her being here. Yes, she wanted to fight for her country and fight for her life back, but she couldn't do that without him. Finding him was the most important part of restoring France, and it was her top priority.
But she had a feeling Chat didn't free Adrien. If he did, then he would know about the coup. If Chat knew about the swap, he would have spread the news as fast as possible. The revolution has been slowly accumulating people for the last five years; if they caught wind of this and told people, they would surely get recruits by the hundreds. The revolution could be over in days, and the people wouldn't have to suffer any longer.
She needed to tell Chat what she saw at the procession. Now that she had spent some more time with him, she felt she could trust him with at least this. Perhaps if she brought this to his attention, he would be more inclined to tell her about the prison.
She wouldn't tell him about her connection to Adrien, not yet. She still wasn't sure how Chat felt about the royals, and his entire plan going forward with the revolution was a mystery to her. Getting to know him over the last few weeks led her to believe he had no ill intentions, but that was all it was, a belief. She didn't know for sure how he felt, but she trusted his character to be reflected in his leadership and decision-making.
If Chat got to a place where he was willing to share information with her, maybe she would feel comfortable disclosing her true motivations for being here. But for now, she would take it one step at a time, starting with telling him what she saw at the procession.
Marinette sat up and threw her blanket off, instantly awake. After she changed her clothes and refreshed her face paint, she walked out of the tent with a new sense of determination. The sun looked like it would rise soon, so Chat should be on his way to wake her up.
She tried to suppress any nervousness she felt about this. This was something she needed to do, and the sooner she did it, the sooner she could get answers. But still, something in the back of her mind was hesitant, and she did her best to block it out.
Marinette walked through the Central Compound with a quickened pace, pointedly ignoring the bakery look-alike as more memories of Adrien cropped up. She passed Alya's house, but she stopped when she heard muffled voices. She backtracked and looked through the front window. Alya and Nino sat on the couch, Alya with her head in her hands and Nino with his arm around her. Alya seemed to be the one talking, but Marinette couldn't hear what she was saying.
That's right. Alya had been out recruiting for the last couple of weeks. She found it strange that Alya was back so early in the morning, and from the looks of it, something was off. She felt a pull to go inside, but she resisted it. As much as Marinette wanted to go in and see her, she couldn't. Not now. Her priority was speaking with Chat before she lost the nerve.
It was dark on the path leading to the North Grounds, so she didn't see him until she nearly ran into him head-on. "Whoops! You scared me, M'Lady. I was just coming to…" he trailed off when he saw the look on her face. "What's going on?"
Marinette swallowed thickly. "Can we talk? Now?"
Chat's gaze shifted between each of her eyes, picking up on the seriousness in them. He opened his mouth to ask more, but decided against it. He gave a quick nod and turned around, leading her back to the North.
She expected him to take her to the clearing they trained in originally, but he didn't. He surprised her by leading her off into the tents. They weaved through them, walking for a few short minutes before they approached a tent that was slightly larger than the rest. Was this his? Chat ducked inside, and Marinette hesitantly followed.
His tent looked nothing like hers. There were no beds in sight, but there was an opening in the canvas on the right wall, which she assumed led to his sleeping quarters. Most of the space in front of her was taken up by a large table with a sheet over it. There were uneven bumps underneath it, so she figured it was covering something.
Chat walked up to the table and turned around to lean on it. He looked at her with concern. "What's going on? Did something happen?"
Marinette bit her lip. She wasn't sure how to approach this. As much as she had started to trust Chat, she was still wary of confiding in him. No. Just bite the bullet.
She took a deep breath. "I learned something before I came here. Something I think you should know."
He sat up straighter, intrigued. "Okay, what is it?"
She fiddled with her hands nervously. She searched for the words, starting and stopping her sentences as she looked for a good way to phrase it. "The King on the throne right now," she started slowly, "he's not who you think he is." Chat's eyes widened slightly. "Everybody thinks Prince Adrien took the throne, but it's not him. I don't know how, there must have been a coup or something, but-"
"How did you find out?" he interrupted, eyebrows furrowed.
"I saw him during the procession-" Marinette paused. There was something about the way he asked that question, something about the tone of his voice. It suddenly dawned on her, and she looked at him incredulously. "Wait, you knew?"
Chat looked like he was contemplating denying it. He opened his mouth, but then he settled with a quick nod.
Marinette was at a loss for words. She had been banking on him not knowing, on this being a new development that could speed along the revolution. She waited this long until she felt she could trust him enough to actually do something about it, but he already knew?
Most of what she planned for this conversation went straight out the window, leaving her confused and increasingly frustrated by the second. One thought kept coming to the forefront of her mind.
"Why haven't you said anything?!" It came out harsher than intended, and she tried to dial it back. "Chat, if you told people, they would believe you! More people would join the revolution, and all of this would be over faster!"
Chat's face turned stern. "I'm not telling anyone, and neither are you."
Marinette was taken aback. He was the one person who could say something, who could finally get the truth out, and he refused to say anything? Her frustration morphed into anger. "Why the hell not?!"
Chat sighed, standing up and walking around the table. "I have my reasons." His tone was calm and collected, and it only fueled her anger even more.
She took a step forward. "No, that's bullshit. Why aren't you telling anyone? People are dying because of him, because of the royal guard. The entire country is suffering under this, and you have the key to finally end it! So why the hell are you keeping this a secret?!"
Chat stood on the opposite side of the table, watching her as if he was waiting for her to be done. She couldn't believe this. A thought came to her, and she voiced it before she realized what she was saying. "Are you ever gonna tell them? Or are you gonna let them live in this lie, then take over like the coward on the throne now?"
His eyes flashed, and he clenched his jaw. She had struck a nerve. He slowly leaned forward and placed his hands on the table. "I am nothing like him." His voice was low, and she could hear the suppressed anger in it.
If she wasn't so furious, she probably would have been intimidated by the look he was giving her, but right now, she didn't care. She copied him, placing her hands on the table and staring into his veiled eyes. "Why won't you tell anyone?" she mimicked his low tone, for once not backing down when he refused to elaborate.
He furrowed his eyebrows, never breaking eye contact. He tilted his head at her, considering her before speaking again. "Why should I?"
Marinette blinked, confused.
Chat repeated himself. "Why should I have to tell them?"
Was he being serious? Wasn't it obvious? "Because they deserve to know! Because if they knew their monarch was a fraud, they would rebel!"
"Why?"
Marinette was growing irritated. "Because they've been lied to all this time! They think their King is someone else, and if they find out the truth, they'll stand up to him!"
Chat's eyes bore into hers. "Why?" Marinette stared blankly. "Why do they need to know about the coup to revolt? You said it yourself! The entire country is suffering, yet no one is doing anything about it. Why?!"
Marinette suddenly realized what he was getting at. "Because they think he's an Emerald."
Chat pointed a finger. "Exactly. If I tell everyone, then what? We revolt, we restore the monarchy, and in thirty or forty years this happens all over again?! As long as these people have faith in this superstition, they'll never be free."
Marinette narrowed her eyes. "Hold on. The people of France are in poverty, they're being beaten and abused by the government, they're dying, they're suffering right now and all you care about is breaking the Emerald superstition?!"
Chat slammed a hand down on the table. "The Emerald superstition is what got us here in the first place! For five years, nobody said a goddamn word while everything they had was taken from them! Everybody knew something was wrong, that this wasn't freedom, but they ignored it because they thought their precious Emerald was calling the shots! I was the first to stand up and say something, and it still took years to get to where we are now!"
"But if we tell everyone the truth, we can take down the King sooner, and the people won't be suffering for any longer-"
"If we tell everyone the truth, it will only reinforce their beliefs even more. What will it lead to then? Sometime down the line, a tyrant takes over, maybe even a real Emerald, and the people don't do shit because he's got pretty eyes? More people will die if we let that happen. Telling them is only putting it off, and the longer we wait, the farther they'll sink into their delusion."
"So what do you plan on doing?! Sit here and wait for the people to come to you?! They're not staying away because of the superstition, it's because these people are afraid! Afraid for themselves! Afraid for their families! If they're even associated with the revolution, the guard could-"
"Why didn't you join earlier?"
Marinette froze. "What?"
"You came here right after you saw the King at the procession, right? Right after you found out he wasn't an Emerald? Was that not because of the superstition?"
Marinette felt caught. She came because of Adrien, not the Emerald superstition. "That's different-"
"Is it?" He tilted his head. "You lived with this shit for ten years, and the second you find out someone else is the King, you want to revolt?"
Marinette clenched her fists on the table. She tried desperately to come up with an excuse, an explanation that didn't reveal her past with Adrien, but she couldn't.
She was saved from having to say anything as someone walked in behind her. They both turned to look at the newcomer. Nino slowed his steps as he picked up on the mood in the room. He looked between them, and although Marinette expected him to excuse himself, saying he'd come back another time, he didn't. His face was set, and he looked at Chat seriously. "Alya's back. Something's happened."
Chat looked at Marinette, his expression basically telling her to leave. She stared back defiantly. Chat looked to the ceiling, took a deep breath, and looked back at Nino. "Go on."
Nino glanced unsurely at Marinette before continuing. "There was an execution in Paris yesterday." He paused and cleared his throat. "It was Squad D."
Marinette felt her blood run cold. Most of her anger dissipated as this new information sunk in. Executed… This whole time she had been wondering what kind of mission they were on, not even considering the fact that they could die on it. Her eyes flew to Chat. He was the one who trained them. They were Northern soldiers, and he'd probably known them for a while, was probably close with them.
Chat stared at Nino for a long moment, his face blank. He gave a curt nod. "Okay, we'll have to come up with a new plan, then. Is that all?"
Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. Was he talking about their mission? His men just died, and that's what he's focused on? The anger in her flared up again. "That's it?"
Chat's gaze flicked to hers. He raised his eyebrows. "What? Do you have something else to say?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, yeah I do. Your men were just murdered."
Chat stared at her. "And?"
"What do you mean, 'and?' Don't you care? They were your soldiers, you trained them."
He continued to stare at her, void of any emotion. "Yeah, they were my men. It's a loss, but I can't dwell on it."
Marinette scoffed. She couldn't believe this. She thought Chat Noir was close with his troops, she thought he cared. He was always walking around trying to get to know them, trying to do what's best for them. She thought he was a kind and considerate man, but after everything that just happened, she realized it had all been an act.
His very own men were killed because of a mission he sent them on, and he dismissed it. They were just a casualty in his eyes. A loss, nothing more. Looking at him now, he was a completely different person, not at all the man she thought she knew. She had nothing more to say to him. She spun on her heel and stormed out of the tent.
News of Squad D spread fast, and it cast a gray cloud over them all. Training was put on hold for the day, memorials were set up in each of the training grounds, and a funeral was hosted in the Compound for the families, only select soldiers allowed to attend.
Marinette visited the memorial. She tried to keep her feelings in check as she stared down at it, but she couldn't help but think that these men were just like her. They were soldiers who left their lives behind to join the revolution, who started as recruits and trained here every day, working their way up to their status, and then just like that… they were gone.
The thought of death never occurred to her when she was here, and she felt foolish for forgetting how serious this was. This was a revolution, a revolution that would go to war someday. Everyone here could die in the end, and that thought terrified her.
Her heart ached. These men would never see the end of this, they would never see the result of their sacrifice or their country restored. She knew nothing about them, but her heart was heavy as she stared at their memorial.
She clenched her jaw. Chat knew them. He knew them well, but what did he do when he found out about their death? Nothing. Her mind wouldn't stop replaying their fight over and over again, and it did nothing but make her feel more betrayed and lost.
Nothing that happened made sense. Nothing lined up with what she knew about Chat. There's no way he could have been faking it all, right? He showed genuine care for his soldiers, displaying it first with Pegasus and then with her countless times. He was so passionate about encouraging every individual that made up the army, emphasizing the importance of each person. There was no way that man would completely disregard the deaths of his top soldiers.
Unless everything she knew of him was just a mask. She questioned everything, every interaction they'd ever had. Was it all a lie?
The longer she stared at the memorial, the deeper she dived into her thoughts and the more lost she became. She wandered over to the food tables, where a couple of ladies prepared dinner. She offered to help as a means to distract herself, and the women took it gratefully, giving Marinette a basket of corn to shuck.
She sat on a barrel and got to work, but despite her best efforts, her mind continued to wander. She felt so confused, and behind that confusion, she was angry. Chat seemed so sincere, and she actually let herself believe she knew him.
Looking back, she did notice a few anomalies in his character. The first had been when he confronted Rhino. She remembered being taken aback by the change; he turned into somebody she would expect to be leading a revolution, someone strong, powerful, intimidating, and authoritative. Then, just like that, he was back to normal.
The next had been when she brought up Squad D after their first training session. He clammed up on her, and then he did it again when they were talking about his identity.
And of course, the biggest of them all had been their fight. She thought back to the beginning of the argument, before Nino came in.
Chat knew about the coup this entire time. He could tell people and have them believe him. He could tell people and finally end this once and for all, but he didn't. He wanted to "break the Emerald superstition" somehow. Marinette knew if the superstition didn't exist, things would probably be different, but staying silent wasn't worth the suffering. If Chat had said something earlier, she would have found Adrien years ago, and maybe the country wouldn't have deteriorated as much as it did.
If Chat was so anti-Emerald, there was no way in hell she would ever tell him about Adrien now. To what lengths would he go to eliminate the Emerald superstition? Would he end the lineage once and for all to keep it from happening again?
As she thought back, one of the more jarring aspects of their argument was how angry he got. She never would have associated Chat Noir with anger before now. It looked so wrong on him. Well, it looked wrong on the guy she thought she knew. Whoever that was back there, that wasn't him.
It almost felt like his mask had only slipped slightly the times before, but during their argument, it fell off completely. Was that man she saw the real him? Did he really not give a shit that his own men, the ones he trained personally for weeks, were killed on a mission he sent them on?
Was he really that cold?
Someone sat down on the barrel across from her and grabbed a piece of corn. Marinette looked up to see it was Nino. He started shucking the corn, not meeting her eyes. She could tell by his face he was in low spirits, and understandably so. He had been the one to deliver the news to Chat, and she had a feeling he was also involved in delivering it to other soldiers and possibly the families, not to mention he was grieving too.
"Did you come from the funeral?"
Nino shook his head. "They pushed it back a couple of hours, so I thought I'd come help for a while."
Marinette bit her lip. "Did you know them?" she asked hesitantly. She wanted answers, wanted to know what mission was so important that it cost eight men their lives, but if Nino was in mourning, she wouldn't want to press him.
"Sort of." He dropped some husks onto the pile. "A few were there in the beginning, so I trained with them. We weren't close or anything, but I still saw them around a lot. Talked with them."
The beginning? Was Nino talking about the start of the revolution? She made a mental note of that. "So, um, was Chat close with them?" She tried to make it sound nonchalant, but he saw through it.
"Is this about your big fight?"
Marinette paused. "How much did you hear?"
"Not much, just the part after I walked in." He dropped his corn into the bucket and lifted his head, finally meeting her gaze. "Look, I know you're probably upset."
She scoffed. "You think?" Marinette searched for the words to convey just how frustrated she was. "Doesn't it bother you? How he just dismissed them like that?"
Nino's face remained even. "Chat's not a bad guy."
She had a hard time believing that, and it must have shown on her face.
"I'm not saying he's innocent. In fact, he's got a lot of secrets, but you know what? He built all of this. Everything we have here is because of him."
Marinette leaned forward. "And eight men are dead because of him, not that he would care."
Nino pressed his lips together. "Listen, he's… complicated."
She gave a dry laugh. "I can think of a few other words."
He ignored her comment. "I'll be honest, I don't know much about him, no one does, but I know one thing: he's seen some shit."
Marinette dialed down on the snarkiness, focusing more on Nino's words.
"Every day he acts all bubbly and cheerful, but he's not. Before we got here, I was on the road with him for a couple of months. He may keep himself together while he's awake, but no one can hide anything when they're asleep. Trust me, he's not as he seems.
"Chat's not innocent, but he's not a bad person either. He's just a little…" Nino couldn't find the word, and he eventually gave up on it.
Marinette let everything he said sink in, growing more and more confused by the second. Nino was telling her that Chat put up a facade, pretended to be a happy person when he really wasn't, and that was supposed to, what, improve her view of him? He's seen some shit. Haven't they all? That wasn't an excuse to be a cold-hearted bastard of a human being.
But Nino still insisted Chat wasn't a bad person. Why?
When it came time for Nino to return to the Central Compound, Marinette went with him. Technically, she wasn't allowed to come and go from the Compound as she pleased, but she felt she should go check in on Alya. She was the one who came back with the news of Squad D, and considering the state she was in this morning, Marinette had a feeling Alya had been there for the execution.
The Central Compound was gloomy. There were gray clouds overhead, making it impossible to tell the time. Nino broke away to enter an unfamiliar building, where she presumed the service was being held. A small group of people up ahead walked towards it. An older woman stood at the center, her face showing nothing but grief and pain. Suddenly, she broke out into fresh sobs, clutching at her chest as she fell to her knees in the dirt.
Marinette's mind flashed to ten years ago. A young boy fell to the ground next to his mother, the pain of his loss ripping through him as he wept. Now, a mother fell to the ground on the walk to her son's funeral, her cries echoing down the street.
Her mind was overcrowded with flashes of that day. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the building emotions inside of her to go away.
She continued down the path, and as she approached Alya's house, she noticed a figure come out of the woods up ahead. Her stomach clenched painfully when she realized it was Chat Noir. She didn't want to see him, not even for a second. She hurried up to the door and knocked on it. In the time it took for someone to answer, she glanced at him.
His face was blank and expressionless, not a hint of sorrow or grief on it. He walked as he normally did, no sign of slumped shoulders or a slowed pace or anything to indicate something was wrong. Anger sparked in her, but she refused to ignite the flame again. She turned back to the door as someone opened it.
It was Alya's mom. She gave Marinette a polite smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Come in."
Alya was sitting on the couch with a mug between her hands, her eyes downcast. Marinette sat down next to her, and she looked up. "Hey, girl," she said, but it was missing its usual flair.
"Hey." Marinette kept her voice gentle. "How are you doing?"
Alya gave a weak shrug. "Okay. Better, I guess." She raised her cup up. "I've got some tea to keep me warm."
Marinette nodded, not really sure what to say.
After a few moments, Alya spoke again, her eyes cloudy. "I'd never seen it before." She looked down into her mug. "Someone die."
Marinette knew what Alya was going through. Watching someone die was hard enough, but watching someone die so violently was horrific. She understood the sickening feeling. "It's like a movie on loop in your head," Marinette said without thinking. "Each time as vivid as the last."
Alya looked at her. "You've seen someone die?" Marinette faltered and broke eye contact, and Alya backtracked. "I'm sorry, that's personal."
"No, it's okay." Marinette swallowed before meeting her eyes again. "I just don't like to talk about it."
Alya nodded, and her gaze dropped back to her mug.
Marinette sat with her for a while, Alya eventually telling her what happened with Squad D. She had heard of the execution, and since it was the first public one in years, she was curious to learn more about it. She never meant to stay for the whole thing, only intending to collect information and leave before anything happened, but when she saw the men and recognized them, she froze.
Now, the images of their death would be burned into her mind for the rest of her life.
Alya grew tired, and Marinette left so she could get some rest. As she stepped off Alya's porch, she glanced to the side. Chat Noir was walking with his back to her, heading down the path towards the North. She looked over at the building the service was being held in. Nobody else was out and about; the path was deserted. Her gaze returned to Chat.
What's he doing? He's supposed to be at the funeral.
She didn't know what compelled her, but she followed him. She kept a safe distance away, close enough that she could still see him, but far enough that he couldn't hear her footsteps. He reached the tent area, and she expected him to break off towards his tent. Instead, he kept walking.
He reached the deserted Training Grounds and veered left, making his way past the posts and starting down a familiar path into the forest.
Marinette was growing confused. He was heading towards their old training area.
They reached the clearing, but he didn't stop. He crossed it and ducked into the trees on the opposite side, no longer following a path. Marinette did her best to quietly pick her way through the brush behind him, a feeling of unease creeping into her abdomen the farther they walked.
Where the hell was he going? She knew she most definitely shouldn't be doing this, but she couldn't help herself.
He came out into another clearing, and Marinette stopped behind the treeline as her eyes roamed the area. It was a lot larger than the one they trained in. A tree was in the center, and her heart clenched when she realized it was an apple tree. Behind it, the ground rose into a small hill, at the top of which was another flat area before the trees started again.
Chat walked up next to the apple tree and stopped. He had his back to her, but she could tell something was off. His fists were clenched. His shoulders were hunched, his head lowered. He took a few deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
Without warning, he turned and slammed a fist into the tree. She flinched at the sickening thud that sounded in the air, followed by another, and another, and another. He punched the tree with full force, practically throwing his entire body behind every strike. Marinette brought a hand up to her mouth as blood started to appear on the tree, his knuckles shining crimson through the giant rips in his gloves.
With one last swing, he let out an anguished yell, sending a wave of chills down her spine. His eyes were wide and his breathing was uneven and rapid. He brought a bloody hand up to run through his hair, smearing red into his blonde locks. His breathing stuttered as he broke down into sobs. He leaned his forearm on the tree and buried his face into it, sliding down to his knees as his cries racked his body.
Marinette stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide and unable to look away. Any lingering anger towards him dissipated.
Whatever Chat was, he was anything but cold. The detachment, the indifference, that was the facade. She could see that now. Behind it all, he was trying to hold himself together, trying to hide the pain that dwelled deep inside, the pain that was finally escaping him as he broke down in front of her.
At that moment, Marinette realized what Nino was trying to say earlier.
Chat's not innocent, but he's not a bad person.
He's just a little broken.
The next chapter is called "While You Were Sleeping"