MiraculElse #36: Anyone At All
by DFC
(Timeline: Whenever.)
"Hey... Marinette?"
Sitting by herself on the school steps, she hadn't expected company... much less this particular company, welcome as it was.
"H-hi!" she managed, turning his way. "Hi, Adrien."
"Are you busy?"
"No... not really," she replied. "I'm just... kind of gathering my thoughts. What's up?"
"I have something here that's... well, it's a mystery," Adrien explained, cryptically. "And I was hoping that, um, maybe you could help me figure it out?"
"Sure. I can try, at least," she offered.
Adrien sat down beside her, and showed her his phone.
"I got an email at lunchtime," he began. "It's from a spoofed address, someone anonymous. Usually, I just ignore those and flag them as spam... but something made me open this one."
Marinette read the message...
Dear Adrien,
Someone at this school, in the building with you right now, is in love with you.
She adores you. She would walk through fire to hold your hand. She thinks about you every day, she does anything she can to make your life better even in the smallest ways, and she's watching over you whether you know it or not. Anyone with bad intentions towards you has to go through her first.
She is a friend to you. She's happy to be your friend, but deep inside, she dreams of so much more.
Why doesn't she tell you that herself? Well... that's complicated. i don't understand it, either. Something in her brain just... pops loose whenever you're by her side, and her nerves and her worries and her hopes and her dreams all get jumbled up. Strange things come out of her mouth, her sense of balance disappears, and sometimes she says and does things that she'd dearly love to take back afterwards.
Be gentle with her, if you figure out who she is. Go slow. Coax her feelings out of her. If you go in full blast, you'll scare her off.
But I promise you... if you can get her comfortable enough to confess, you'll be very, very happy that you did.
...A Friend.
Flames.
It felt as if flames were pouring through Marinette's body, her blood pumping at about one thousand degrees, somehow remaining liquid via some science-defying miracle.
Her face was crimson - she was sure of that - as she read over what might as well have been her biography for the fourth time.
Screaming out "Ahhh! Your phone's burning up! It's about to explode!" and hurling it as hard as she could into the road was an option... but without her being transformed, it was unlikely that she could throw it that far, and Adrien might wonder about her sanity... just a little bit.
Besides, he'd read it. He knew what the letter said. And here he was, confronting her, asking her for the third time if she had feelings for him, oh GOD, her brain was emitting sparks, she felt like she was about to burst like an overfilled water balloon, can I tell him, how do I tell him, how do I explain this, what are the words, what even ARE words, this is... this is it-
Without turning to face him, as she couldn't look straight into his eyes just yet, she passed the phone back to Adrien.
"...Huh," she said, aiming for a nonchalant tone.
"I guess you can see why this threw me for a loop," Adrien ventured.
"Well, yeah!" exclaimed Marinette, a little too loudly. "I mean... if I found out that someone was in love with me, especially in a Secret Admirer way like this... I don't know what I'd do."
"Me, neither. I've never read anything like this before."
"Really?"
Marinette stole a glance at Adrien, who seemed genuine about that. Of course he is; I don't think he's ever told a lie in his life, she thought. "Someone like you, who's... well... handsome, and sweet, and famous... you don't get love letters in your fan mail?"
"Sometimes?" he admitted. "But I don't take them seriously. I answer as many of them as I can, and I try to be polite... I tell them that I'm very glad that they're fans, but I'm very busy and I'm keeping my options open for now."
Inside, Marinette twitched a bit. "I'm very glad that you're one of my fans?" He told ME that once... on a certain day by my locker.
"I, um... I'm glad that you handle them like that," she babbled. "Sparing their feelings."
"Oh, I've done it myself once. I sent a gushy letter to a pop singer once, when I was nine, asking for a date," he confided. "I think my mother took it out of the mailbox before the postman could pick it up."
"Oh, wow," Marinette giggled.
"But this is different. It seems like it's from someone who knows me well... about someone who knows me well," Adrien continued. "So you can imagine how confused I feel, since... well..."
In a wistful tone, he added, "You know me, Marinette. You know that I don't have a lot of friends, and how wonderful it is that I got to join our class this year and meet so many great people. People like you."
"And I'm so happy that I got to meet you... to become your friend," Marinette simmered, choosing her words carefully.
"So if this person who loves me is someone that I know, but she's keeping her feelings secret, there are only so many people that I think that she could be," Adrien reasoned. "And that has my head spinning."
"So, um... how can I help you?" asked Marinette, her temperature rising.
"Well," he replied, pointing questioning eyes her way that made her shiver deep down. "Marinette, you're... you're a very good friend of mine. You know the people in our class, in the next class over, who you and I talk to and spend time with and who we don't. You're... you're the most caring, compassionate, thoughtful person I've ever met."
She held her breath, without realizing she was doing so.
"Can you help me figure out who this letter is about... or at least who might have sent it?" Adrien asked. "To start with, you didn't send it to me, right?"
"A-absolutely not," Marinette replied, immediately. "I've never seen this before now."
Of course I haven't. It is one thousand percent ABOUT me, and I know it, and the writer knows it, and everyone in this city except you seems to know it, she fumed. And that means that I have a VERY GOOD IDEA as to who sent this to you from some throwaway email account, and she is going to get a piece of my mind the next time that I see her.
"I didn't think that you'd written this. If it had been you, you'd just tell me directly, not hide it behind an alias," smiled Adrien. "But I had to ask. So that's one person down."
"Y-yeah, one down," she fluttered. "Okay. So... I don't think that it's Chloé, as the writer or the subject."
"Definitely not," he agreed. "Shyness is not her thing. She'd hire a skywriting team rather than keep that secret... and she wouldn't write that letter on someone else's behalf."
"She wouldn't share you with anyone," Marinette declared. "No matter how sincere they were."
"And the only girl Chloé's at all close to is Sabrina..."
"...And it's hard to picture Chloé doing something nice for Sabrina," she frowned. "Even in a behind-her-back way."
Adrien frowned as well. "She's... their relationship is kind of complicated. I don't know quite how to explain it," he offered. "But I agree, it's almost definitely not about Sabrina, and if it was, I don't know who else would write that for her."
"Yeah. So... who else is there? Um..." Marinette stalled, her mind searching for how to proceed.
"And most of the other girls in our class are all taken already. Mylène has Ivan, Rose and Juleka are together, Lila is barely there at all, and Alix doesn't seem like this would be her thing to do. She wouldn't hide it; she'd tell me just to watch the look of surprise on my face."
"That does... narrow it down?"
"The letter makes it sound like this is someone close to me. A good friend, someone that I see almost every day," wondered Adrien. "And outside of our class, I don't know how many of that kind of friend I have! I've met some of Ms. Mendeleiev's students, certainly... many of them seem nice... but I don't get to socialize with them often."
"Uh-huh. Yeah. Definitely," mumbled Marinette.
"So that's why I came to you for help. Maybe there's something that I'm missing... something that I don't quite understand yet," he said, simply. "Can you help me figure this out? Do... do you have any idea who the letter's about?"
A voice in Marinette's brain declared, "Tell him," in a very loud and insistent voice.
In her imagination, she could see Alya shaking her head at her, saying, "You have to just tell him! It won't happen unless you do."
She pictured similar advice coming from Rose, and from Juleka, and from Mylène, and from Alix, and from Zoé, good gosh, Zoé didn't know me well at all yet and even SHE could tell that I was holding things back.
Chat Noir floated across her mind, trying to build her confidence, listening to her little speech for her Buttercup, encouraging her to open up her heart and be honest so many times.
She watched in awe as a marching band paraded down the street in front of her, letters on their uniforms spelling out T-E-L-L H-I-M T-H-A-T Y-O-U L-O-V-E H-I-M as they strutted with their instruments and batons, until she blinked twice and realized that it was a momentary hallucination.
She closed her eyes, before shooting stars in the sky could spell out a similar message from the universe.
"Is there someone... that you're hoping that it's about?" she asked.
"There is," he replied, plainly. His face didn't waver, and his smile remained.
"Well, let me think... for some reason, it's so hard for me to think right now," she rambled, scrambling for how to proceed.
"Take your time," he encouraged her. "I'm in no hurry."
"Hmmm..."
The high-speed train howling "JUST TELL HIM!" and its opposite-direction counterpart packed full of worries and anxieties and fears of rejection streaked towards each other in Marinette's mind... on the same track.
Their mental collision was epic, to be sure.
"I'm going to put it this way, Adrien. I... need to be careful about how I say this," Marinette began.
"Go ahead. Please," he replied.
"There are a lot of people at this school. Now, it said 'she,' so I guess that cuts it down to just the girls, but you knew that, so why am I bringing it up? Anyway," she stammered. "You're right; you are close to the people in our class. We both are. We both know them all pretty well. And every one of them thinks the world of you, Adrien... we're all so glad that you joined us this year."
"I'm very happy to hear that..." said Adrien, trailing off to let her continue.
"And even the people who are in other classes, people who might not be as close to you as we are... I've never heard anyone say a bad word about you. Everyone I've ever spoken to likes you very much. You're a very, very easy person to like, and to... care about."
"Am I?"
"Of course you are," she insisted. "I know that I do. You're so important to me. We've been through so many things together where... without you in my life, I don't know how I might have managed."
Adrien leaned forward slightly, focusing everything he had on Marinette's words.
"And I could name a dozen other girls whose lives you've touched in one way or another," she continued. "And that's just the ones that I know."
A voice in her head shrieked at the direction the conversation was suddenly taking, but she ignored it.
"So if you're asking me, who do I know who might have a c-crush on you, who might be in love with you, who adores you and just can't find the words to tell you to your face..."
She stared into Adrien's green eyes, which were closer still to her now, and her stomach did a backflip...
"...It could be anyone at all. There are so many possibilities, that it's hard for me to name one."
That's not a lie, she thought, desperately. It isn't. Maybe by omission, but that SO DOESN'T COUNT as a lie, it can't! I mean... it COULD be anyone at all. I'm part of 'anyone at all.' There are so many people who think that you're wonderful, and it is very hard for me to name the one who's absolutely in love with you because...
...because...
...because I don't know why this is so hard for me to tell you that I am, but it just IS...
Marinette quivered inside, watching for Adrien's reaction.
He seemed unsure of himself, briefly... but then smiled, nodding his head.
"You're right. Of course you are," he replied. "I'm just... well... no one's ever told me that they're in love with me before. Technically, one person did... but that was kind of complicated that night."
"Kagami?" asked Marinette.
"Actually, no. We never quite reached the l-word," Adrien explained. "It's... a long story."
"Ah."
"I guess what I'm saying is... no one's ever told me that and truly meant it before," he told her. "And if the right person did..."
"...Yeah?" she breathed.
"...I'll hope that she does tell me someday, I guess," he noted. "I don't want to seem pushy, or to guess wrong."
Marinette exhaled... a slow, long breath escaping from deep within her.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I wish that I..." COULD BE LESS OF A COWARD... "could be of more help..." AND JUST BE HONEST WITH YOU FOR ONCE... "about this."
"Marinette?"
She couldn't look away.
"You've been more help than you know."
"What do you mean by that?" Marinette asked, softly.
"I mean... you've given me a lot to think about," said Adrien. "Some very valuable perspective on this, and I think that I feel better about it now."
"...Good," she smiled.
"I usually feel better after I've talked with you. You're very good at that," he grinned.
Her response to that was wordless... but from the expression on her face, clearly positive.
"Anyway... I probably should get going. My driver should be here at any moment..."
As if on cue, a familiar sedan chose that moment to whip around the corner.
"All right. I'm glad that I could help... and I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, as he began to descend the staircase.
He turned back in her direction.
"Count on it," he promised, then headed to the car.
Once the car pulled away and she was alone once more, Marinette slumped backwards, lying flat on her back on the stairs.
A small voice from her purse piped up, "You do know that you dig your own holes, right?"
"Alya dug this one for me," Marinette snapped back. "I can't believe that she emailed Adrien a confession on my behalf! That's just..."
"That surprised me, too," Tikki agreed. "You'd ordered her not to tell him that you love him. But she didn't name you, so... technically..."
"Sure. The girl in the letter could be anyone, right?" said Marinette, mockingly. "Anyone at all."
"Yes, she set you up. And, yes, Adrien came straight to you about it. Did he seem bothered by the idea that someone loves him?" prompted Tikki. "Or that you might be among the suspects?"
"No, but...!"
Sitting up, Marinette slumped forward, her face coming to rest in her hands.
"I don't like being pressured about this. I don't like that at all," she grumbled. "Someday, I'm going to have the right words at the right time and I'm going to tell him. But I need to pick when and where and how that is!"
"If he'd said, 'There is someone I'm hoping that it's about, and that's you,'" wondered Tikki, "what would you have told him then?"
Marinette went glassy-eyed for a moment.
"I'll be asking myself that all night tonight," she mumbled.
In the car, Adrien answered Nathalie's questions about his day mechanically, causing her to repeat some questions more than once. Clearly, his mind was elsewhere, so after a while she sighed and gave up, returning her focus to her tablet.
It's true.
It's really true, he grinned to himself.
That letter was so specific... there was only one person on Earth that it described. One wonderful, sweet, sensitive, caring, beautiful, brilliant girl who gets shy and evasive around me sometimes.
How did it take me so long to put the pieces together?
The day that I matched her handwriting to that anonymous Valentine... I wanted to believe it then, he recalled. It wasn't the right time to ask her, and things have been complicated since then. But now... seeing how she reacted to what she read, what I asked her today?
I knew it was you before I said a single word, Marinette. But now I'm SURE.
"Be gentle with her," the letter said, and I will. I'll go slow. I'll stay close by you whenever I can, I won't push hard, I'll let you decide when it is that you want to tell me.
But I promise you, Marinette... on the day that you're comfortable enough with me to confess, you'll be very, very happy that you did.