Shocking News: Season 5–Episode 2 IS OUUUUUUT.

I don't know if I should cry in anger at the Uno Reverse Card the creators flipped at us. The audacity and the cringe. (ಠ o ಠ)

That's all I'm going to say about this particular episode… but YOU NEED TO GO WATCH IT AAAAAA

Chapter 5: Eclectic Dispositions

The rushing water was icy-cold, but I continued splashing my face with it to clear my head, grateful that functioning plumbing existed in this shambled, caricature world.

The bathroom tiles protruded out of the busted flooring, but with the ankle-length boots I wore, they weren't a problem.

I closed the valve, and a cracked mirror greeted me.

The pale vermilion lipstick was completely gone, and the usually well-kept bangs were disheveled, with one of the orange bands that secured parts of the front, short pieces of hair missing. It snapped when Chat Blanc had tugged on it continuously.

The impulse to brush the long auburn hair into a different hairdo was strong. A high ponytail to highlight the neck; a braid to go with the dark-shirted jumpsuit, or anything else to distinguish myself from the image before me.

Yet…

("Rawr!" The petite girl performed clawing gestures with the cut-out plastic plates taped to her fuzzy mittens.

"Stay still." The man stated as he combed her hair.

"But-"

"Listen to your Papà, mia figlia." Her mamma accommodated the apricot hero-themed eye mask from falling off of her face.

The daughter also had a stuffed tail, but to keep it from slipping down, she had to wear her mamma's belt.

… She hopes her mamma won't be searching for it.

"There." Her papà arranged the final trinket—a pair of triangular tangerine socks hot-glued on a headband—onto her head to complete the look.

"All done!"

"Wow!" The child suppressed her distaste for the last item placed on her, but at least with the new hairstyle, she looked cute enough for the dolcetto-scherzetto.

A familiar warmth pressed itself on her forehead. "A super style for my super volpi."

The little superheroine twirled around to show off her outfit for the day. She would get as many caramella as she could.

No… As many as she wanted.)

Hazel-green eyes, a brooch, and two stretchy bands gnawed at me.

"I'm sorry this happened to you."

I rummaged through the broken and splintered cabinets for the one thing lacking in this picture; another malleable cord to bind loosely to the near ends of my hair.

(The girl was ready to chop off her tresses.

But then the elastic snapped, and she frantically searched for the bag of bobbles.

She replaced it before she could stop herself, too used to the motions of changing the bands for a better grip.

The scissors fell to the ground, and she sobbed on the sink, mimicking her mamma's cries.

Unable to remove the 'sincerity' that touched her heart.)

"Everything is going to be okay." The lights shimmered and flickered as my light-tanned hands completed the distinctive style that defined the scheming teenager.

Regardless of the type of character my predecessor was, and out of all the outcomes that came forth from her agency… I won't bereave her of this choice.

It's not my right, but Lila Rossi's.

ฅ-*୨୧*-ฅ

Shutting what little remained of the restroom door, I was welcomed by a stadium-sized room beyond repair.

Tarnished trophies that held no value or purpose anymore, littered alongside the only link the wealthy boy had to the outside world.

A ravaged spiral staircase led up to a nonexistent second floor; frayed arcade machines were unresponsive; a scoreboard above the half-court basketball zone sparked to whoever approached, and faint scorch marks took over the once spotless wooden ramps.

I spun the cleaved foosball table. It squeaked with most of its essential components unaccounted for, and I was saddened that even in another universe, I'd never be able to disport myself with one.

I adjusted myself into one of the furniture lingering in the bedroom, and wrapped myself inside the wooly blanket as best as I could.

It was surprisingly soft.

"Night, Blanc."

.

.

When no response was given, I supposed the feline had kipped down for the night. Exhausted from the stream of memories and events that had betided over the past few days.

Deciphering Ladybug's identity, who turned out to be his close friend and classmate, and forging an intimate relationship with her civilian persona.

His father puppeteering his judgment, discovering what laid dormant beneath the ground, the inevitability of his altered transformation, and the built-up cataclysm razing the globe.

Every day, he has to face the ramifications of his deeds, wandering around with no aspirations whatsoever.

Yes… those revelations would affect anyone.

I was ready to follow into the realm of dreams as well. Plans, worries, and everything else could come after.

"Lila."

Nevermind.

I tiredly rubbed my eyes and opened them to see the Akuma standing wide awake. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I was watching the perimeter." He was clutching a familiar pole. But compared to the sleek, metallic shine from the show, this weapon totally matched the pigmentation of his wielder.

"And I was waiting for you." His expression subtly changed as he admitted the last part, but it dissipated just as quickly as it came.

The day is bright, so bright that mirages and illusions blend within it perfectly. But in midnight's domain, the lullaby of the moon urged my body to slumber.

The one—and only—thing Lila and I had in common, was our ability to not perform well during the hours of darkness.

"You didn't have to, Blanc." Nevertheless, my attention was groggily snatched by my albino companion. "You need to rest."

He furrowed his eyebrows at the concern edging my sentence, and for a moment, I believed he complied with my suggestion when he stashed his staff away.

"I thought…" But he veered towards my vicinity instead.

"Why are you doing this?" He leaned on the armrest of the couch I had chosen, leaving me to catch a certain glint dominating his features in full display. "Why do you sound sincere?"

I felt my energy being sucked away every second I maintained myself conscious, which is why it took me a minute to register his message.

"Why's a scared fox worrying about an unlucky cat?"

A minute where frazzled hazel-green met against predatory bluish-white. A minute where nature subdued down its howling winds and dimmed its skies; a minute in which the silence was deafening...

And none dared to break it.

"Why, hmm?"

(Jealousy...

She slapped the hero's hand away. "Did you actually believe I was helping you?"

Deceit...

"How gullible! After everything you brought upon me?" The melodies of distorted and raucous bursts of laughter strengthened the hymn of her flute.

Anger.)

Half asleep and with dazed eyes, I tried to defend myself. "Because I am being genuine, Blanc."

But nay…

He did not look convinced. Just as his words were incoherent to me, it was the same for him.

("You guys are so easy to cully."

These emotions were seeded since childhood,

"By the way…" The full, corrupted might of her power was locked onto them. "You were right."

Bloomed by the heroes she looked up to,

"We'll never be friends."

And cultivated into a timeless, everlasting resentment Hawkmoth could use over and over again.)

"Do you think I'd be here if that wasn't the case?" I said defeatedly.

.

.

.

It's what it is.

I was essentially exposed to every single one of the original's past thoughts, memories, and feats... And it would haunt all of my decisions from here onward.

"I don't... blame you for distrusting me." My hand rested upon pearly locks, and the harbinger of destruction froze.

I'll be taking a page out of his book by shredding and decimating the taciturnity with my actions.

"Just know that right here, right now…" I continued to pat his head, letting my fingers tangle themselves within the strands, hoping this would relent the cat to drowse.

"I do care… and I'm going to keep caring."

I don't expect Blanc to accept my declamations for what they are at the moment.

Lila was an opportunist chancer and had many, many things to say about Paris' star heroes. The weight of those deranged feelings was nonsensical and burdened my current outlook.

And to allay that notion of his, I had to discard these sentiments.

"Whether you like it... or not." Leaving me to parallel her words.

.

.

A high-pitched noise startled me from my worn-out state. It was difficult to describe, but it's a sound that was impossible to forget once you've heard it before.

I scrutinized the source of the emitted chatter… and he was not faring well. He had dilated pupils, ears tilted forward, and a trembling jaw.

I removed my hands, and I was about to apologize for invading his personal space to make a statement, but he interrupted me.

"You promise?" He loomed over me and lingered there, clenching and unclenching his paws as if he were barely holding himself together.

"I promise."The long, fixed stare I received in return didn't give me any clues to what he was thinking.

But even as enervated as I was, I found his methods of asserting if I spoke the truth or a breathless spiel a bit... excessive.

I yawned. "Now, if that's all..."

He nodded his head very slowly, still not looking away even after I had pushed him back.

"Then it's time to hit the hay. Good night, Blanc." I stretched my arms out before I draped myself in my quilt for the night.

"Sleep tight… Rossi."

I didn't ponder on the longing that contradicted Chat Blanc's earlier demeanor.

All I knew was that sleep demanded, and I would answer the call.

"Because there are no takebacks."

.

.

.

.

ฅ-*୨୧*-ฅ

EXTRA:

Cat-like trills stirred me from dormancy.

"What?" The perpetrator in question blinked innocently.

I stared at the other sofa that was definitely not there last night, and the curled form of Blanc drew close to the point where our foreheads touched.

.

.

.

.

.

My point was made.

He sheepishly smiled. "How could I take a catnap without my vulpi?"

I replied by throwing a pillow at his face in retaliation.

It was on this day; I discovered cats could shriek.

ฅ-*୨୧*-ฅ

A/N

Chattering: A sound cats produce when they're interested in prey. Usually happens as they're laser-focused on their prey and a barrier is in between. Like a kitty watching birds outside the window, or playing with their mouse-shaped toy. It signals a state of strong excitement or frustration for not being able to reach their target.

Take that as you will.

Now I can't stop the image of my cat cussing out whenever we drag her out of the bird's room. (つ)つ

BTW, if you haven't noticed yet, this story is slow-placed.