"People would expect it to be red, but I wanna branch out, you know?" Kim was sitting up, animatedly moving his hands in the air. "I don't want to be predictable, you know? But I just can't think of anything else to wear that won't make me feel...stupid."

"You're athletic and handsome, Kim," Marinette said as she looked through her colored pencils. "No one is going to think you look stupid."

"Maybe...maybe purple?" Kim said hesitantly, looking at the trees around them. The park was full of life. Fall was just beginning and kids wanted to get as much time at the public park as they could before their parents started saying that it would be too cold to play outside.

"Because it's Max's favorite color?" Marinette teased. Kim didn't respond, and Marinette pursed her lips. "I don't know. I think something more bold. Not an entire rainbow like last year, but something...striking."

"I love striking. It distracts the other runners and gives me extra self-confidence."

Marinette hummed in response and Kim leaned back, his hands behind his head as he lay on their shared picnic blanket. He knew better than to talk to Marinette at the moment. She was busy imagining all sorts of patterns and colors and fits for his outfit. She made him a new one every year at the beginning of track season. This was just a special occasion since track season had ended and he just wanted a new suit.

"Alright," Marinette nodded to herself. "I got it. I'll have it ready for you in less than two weeks, I promise."

"No rush," Kim assured her. "It's just a favor. And I'll pay you the usual amount."

Marinette smiled, "Thanks." They both packed up their picnic and headed for the entrance of the park, where they split up to go home. As she walked through the streets of her hometown, Paris, Marinette looked at the scenery. A few years ago, everything was beautiful. There were flowers on trellises hung outside of peoples windows, trees lining the streets, and cars trying to honk each other off the road. Families walked around in complete ease, and business was booming. Or, doing well enough. But that was years ago, things were different now; nothing had been the same since the first Makara attack.

No one knew exactly what they were, where they came from, or what they wanted. No one had heard one talk, or indicate any specific desire. Everyone, however, had seen what they did. Everyone lived it. Usually the damage was limited to two or three block of Paris, mostly where the Arc de Triomphe stood. Had stood. It had been a few months since the historic landmark had been destroyed by a Makara. That's all they did. The Makara showed up, and then they started their path of destruction. If the people in the vicinity of the Makara were lucky, no one would be killed. But it had happened before. And though the police did their best to protect the people from the giant beasts, the only things which seemed to be effective against the Makara were the second scourge of the city. The Akuma.

The Akuma were less mysterious. Witnesses claimed that it just took one trigger, one wrong word, one bad day, and suddenly a person transformed into an Akuma. Marinette knew this wasn't true. Her longtime friend Alix had been Akumatized. Alix was never one to get angry, and never let the events of the day get to her. There must be something else which triggered the transformation. And there must be something to trigger them to revert back to normal.

So far, every single Makara had been destroyed through the joint effort of an Akuma and the police. And so far, every single Akuma had then broken through their supposed sentience and gone berserk. They now all sat silent and sedated in a hospital too far from Marinette's house for it to be practical to visit Alix. Scientists from all over the world had come to see the Akuma. No one could explain what happened-they couldn't explain the red glow around their eyes, the hair spurting out of their bodies, the wings they were suddenly able to use, and no one could explain the power each Akuma had.

There were dozens of Akuma laying in the hospital, and not one of them had a duplicate power. They were all unique from each other, and yet so frustratingly similar. If one Akuma was cured, so would the rest. But no one could figure out what was wrong, so no one could come up with a cure.

Marinette's heart thudded uncomfortably against her chest as she heard the silence of the street around her. The roads were too dangerous to drive in nowadays, so people either walked or rode a bike. No one bothered to plant flowers or upkeep their gardens because in a few weeks, or a month at best, it would be destroyed again. There were certain times of the month where people refused to leave the underground bunkers the City had built all around Paris, because it was almost time for another Makara attack.

The constant fear had drained some of the life out of Marinette's friends, but Marinette found herself more determined than ever to succeed, to live the same life she had dreamed for herself since she was ten. She was going to be a fashion designer-just as talented as her aunt, but as famous as Gabriel Agreste. She was going to have a loving family, a hamster, a dog, and she was going to help her mom's side of the family with anything they needed. She was going to succeed, and nothing was going to stop her.

She bumped into someone small and frail.

"Oh, sorry," she said, helping the old man to his feet. Then the smell hit her. She looked to her right. It was a bar, nearly empty because it was two in the afternoon, but there were still a few patrons inside. The old man in front of her had been one of those patrons a few moments ago.

"No problem," The old man slurred, "Here, for your trouble," He began to fumble with his jacket, and Marinette let go of his arm immediately.

"No thanks," She said, walking away. She heard the old man grunt and hit the concrete. She sighed and turned around to help him to his feet again. He pressed a small box into her hands.

"No take-backs," he smiled, and Marinette felt an odd sensation up her arms and along her back. She looked around. Everything seemed normal. She just couldn't shake the feeling that something was...different now.

"Look, I'll take your stupid box. Do you know where you live?"

"Why don't you wear them?" The old man staggered and Marinette held her hands out in case he fell again. Sure, he was piss drunk, but he also seemed to be at least one hundred years old, and she would be damned if he died in front of her.

"Wear what?"

"The earrings I gave you,"

"You are the creepiest old man I've ever met! Do you know where you live or not?" The old man pulled out his wallet.

"I can't read it."

"This is such a pain," Marinette grumbled as she called a cab for Fu Peizhi.

"Would you please put them on?"

"No, I have no idea who wore them before, or where you got them, or what they're made out of," Marinette snapped, holding a hand out to keep the old man from coming too close to her. "Now stop talking to me and take your wallet back."

"Only if you put the earrings on. I've had them in my family for six generations. We've all been male, no one has gotten to wear them yet,"

"Oh yeah?" Marinette raised an eyebrow, calling the old man's story for the bull shit it was. "Then why didn't a wife wear them? And if they've been in your family for so long, why give them to a stranger?" The old man slumped against the wall and started crying.

"She won't look," he kept sniffling. "She won't even look at them,"

"No, no don't cry," She looked around, suddenly feeling terrible. He might be drunk and a tad creepy, but at the end of the day he was an old man crying outside of a bar at two in the afternoon and he seemingly had no one else in his life to bother but a complete stranger. She felt bad for the guy. "Look, I'll put them on, stop crying."

The man sniffled, "I don't believe you." She opened the box. They were just a pair of black studs. Some might call them completely harmless. Marinette called them ugly. Still, she wanted the guy to stop crying. She took out the hoops she was wearing and put in the studs.

"See? I told you I'd wear them!" Then the man's bike pulled up.

"You called for a cab?" Asked the man riding the bike. Marinette helped the old man into the seat the man pulled behind him, telling the cabbie the address from Fu Peizhi's ID. The man nodded and stood in his seat, using his weight as leverage to start the bike-now the only cabs available in Paris.

Marinette continued on her way home. She almost took the earrings out, but decided to take them out inside. She fully intended on returning them to Fu, and she didn't want to lose any piece of the heirloom studs.

"Welcome back," Sabine smiled from the cash register in the family-run bakery.

"Hi, mom," Marinette greeted her mom with a kiss on the cheek. "Do you need any help?"

"Oh, no, go and work on Kim's suit. We're doing just fine here." From behind Sabine, a clatter of pans fell on the floor, and Marinette's dad started to swear in Italian. Sabine smiled, "Just fine."

Marinette didn't question it and headed up to her room. She would need to go to a fabric store later to get the material for the track suit, but she could always make the pattern, first.

"Hi!" A voice called by Marinette's ear. She jerked back with a small shriek. There was too much commotion in the kitchen for Sabine to ask after Marinette. Marinette was glad for that, because she wasn't exactly sure she was alright. "I hear your name is Marinette! I'm-ooh! Is this the newest issue of Grazia? I love Grazia!"

Marinette watched in silence as the pink blob flew across her room, to her bed, and sat with the magazine, rambling about what she liked and didn't like about each of the designs she saw. Then the creature looked up and gasped. Again, it flew across the room, to Marinette's wall. "These are amazing! I love the ruching here, and the color scheme on this one the most! Oh, but I'd prefer if the jumpsuit had a bit more give. An outfit needs a bit of balance-some tight, some loose."

"Hey, that might be true in some circumstances, but the point of that jumpsuit is the silhouette, and if I add even the slightest give to any part of it, the silhouette is ruined!" Marinette snapped at the creature before she'd even realized what she was going to say.

"But the silhouette here is nothing special," The creature said thoughtfully, looking at the design again. Indignation rose up in Marinette.

"Are you blind? It's a classic shape! It's clean, chic, and ageless. And, the color and fabric more than make up for the simplicity." The creature hummed and then shrugged.

"If you say so." Then it zoomed to the next design. Marinette shook her head as it started to talk again.

"What am I doing?" She questioned herself. "I'm going insane."

"You're not going insane," the creature assured her. "I'm really here. See?" It pinched her, and Marinette had to sit down. "I'm a kwami. I'm magic. And I love your designs-even the ones I don't really like. I'm so glad you're my partner!"

"What is-"

The funny thing about normality is that it could change in an instant. Even from her room on the second floor of the bakery, Marinette could feel the ground trembling and the air becoming heavy with humidity. A siren blasted through the streets, and Marinette ran for the door, to get her and her parents to the safety of the underground bunker.

"Wait!" The creature behind her said. "I need to tell you something!"

Marinette grabbed it out of the air and fled downstairs. Her parents were on the way to the door and held it open for her. Outside, the street was filled with people, all rushing for the nearest bunker. There was only so much space, and having to go to the next one might cost someone their life.

Sabine grabbed Marinette's arm and pulled her out of the bakery, into the torrent of people. The creature was vibrating, but Marinette couldn't hear what it was trying to say, nor did she care. She just needed to get to safety. Tom Dupain was in front of Sabine and Marinette, doing his best to clear a path for the two, but his daughter and wife were still crowded and pushed at on either side. The family rushed through the streets as fast as the panicking crowd would allow.

Then a frantic father with a young child in his arms barged through Sabine and Marinette, ramming into Tom before he could stop himself. In an instant, the sea of people pushed themselves between Marinette and Sabine, and Marinette was all alone, unable to move in the jam packed street.

The creature finally made its way out of Marinette's clenched fist.

"I'm a kwami," it said as cheerfully and easily as it did in Marinette's room. "I'm magic. And now you, my partner, are, too!"

Marinette didn't pay too much attention to her hallucination. It's small voice spoke in her ear again, surprisingly clear amidst all the chaos Marinette was wading through.

"All you have to do is say, 'spots on'!"

"Yeah, right," Marinette mumbled, almost biting her own tongue off after a particularly hard shove. "Spots on, my ass."

But the words had been spoken. An instant later, a flash of red lit up the area where the girl had once been. People were too panicked about the Makara to pay any attention to the light. But they should have, because if they had, they would have seen the first transformation of Ladybug.

Marinette screamed.

Calm down, the creature's cheery voice sounded from someone inside of Marinette's own mind. You're safe. In fact, you're probably safer than anyone else on the street! The suit is covered in a layer of magic-our magic. It's not invulnerable, but it's not easy to get hurt while you're transformed, either.

Marinette's mind swam. She was no longer being pushed along by the crowd. She could still feel the bumps of the people, but it didn't affect her anymore than a gentle breeze.

That's just another perk of our partnership! When you're transformed, you're super strong.

Marinette wanted to rip her hair out. She was going insane. She was hallucinating and hearing things and all the stress from the Akuma and Makara finally made her go insane.

Wrong again! The cheery voice piped up. You're not insane. You're just insanely awesome! Look, you see that yo-yo in your right hand? You'll never be able to believe the stuff you can do with it.

But Marinette no longer paid the voice any attention. The crowds were scattering, the streets were splitting, and Marinette's knees were about to fail her. Coming towards her, was a Makara. Unlike the Akuma, the Makara were only vaguely similar to each other. Each of them had a slightly fish-like quality. Some were more piscatory than others, but they all smelled exactly the same. Horrendous. Like day-old fish which was left out of the fridge overnight. Marinette gagged. The Makara was large and gray. It had round eyes on either side of its circular head, a swan-like neck, an oval body with a tail like a lizard, and two legs like an ostrich. Somewhere behind the Makara would be the police. Since there were no more cars in use, the police relied on horses to get around. Unfortunately, not all the police were great horsemen, so it sometimes took entirely too long for them to arrive and be useful.

The voice urged Marinette to move, assured her that she wouldn't be hurt, that she was meant to do something. But she couldn't. Marinette couldn't move. The creature was as tall as her house-maybe even taller. With every step it destroyed more of Paris, more of her home, more of her future. Her fear began to melt away and anger soon overtook it. The Makara moved slowly, with no real purpose. It didn't have a goal in mind. It just existed to cause havoc. And Marinette was tired of simply accepting that fact.

She listened to the voice in her head, grabbed the yo-yo, and swung it towards the Makara. She rolled as she landed on top of it, her yo-yo the only tether to the slimy beast. Up close the smell was overwhelming, and she was ready to hurl any food she'd had that day.

The creature reminded her to focus, and advised her to simply incapacitate the monster. She couldn't defeat it alone-they had to wait for their partner.

Marinette wasn't sure what that meant, and she wasn't about to sit down and wait for anyone-not when she'd mustered up all of her courage to swing that yo-yo. Marinette held onto the string of the surprisingly strong yo-yo with all of her might as she scaled down the Makara's face and punched it right in the eye. The Makara opened its mouth as if to screech, but no noise came out. It stopped moving, and Marinette immediately disengaged the yo-yo. Her feet slid on the slime coming from the Makara's body, and soon she was falling through the air.

Fear once again gripped her, and she was unable to move. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart leapt up to her mouth. This was it. She was going to creature simply laughed inside of her mind and assured her that she would be fine. It encouraged her to turn around, to tie the Makara's legs together, to see what happened next.

(What happened next would be in the news for days, would create a buzz in the community of Paris, would inspire countless blogs and fan communities, and would guarantee the woman in the ladybug suit fame for however long she donned the suit.)

Marinette found it surprisingly easy to use the yo-yo. A few seconds and the string was looped around the Makara's legs. It crashed to the ground, and the street was destroyed, but it wasn't moving anymore, and nothing else would be harmed. Marinette could hear the police approaching, and she turned to leave, afraid that they would recognize her, would ask her questions, would talk to her parents. That's when the Akuma appeared.

It was as average as an Akuma could be. The human features were hidden by a strange red glow around the eyes, its skin was covered with fur, and wings sprouted out of its back. Anything it pointed at turned to solid ice. Marinette almost got her yo-yo ready, almost prepared to run for her life; but instincts took over. Her uncle Delun's voice echoed through her mind: If there's a choice of fight or flight, a Cheng always chooses to fight. So that's exactly what she did.

All the training she'd received since she was a little girl was ingrained in her body as much as in her mind. When the Akuma came towards her, she rushed forward and faked a left punch before kicking its legs out from underneath it. She held its hands in her own, and forced them behind the Akuma's back. The police arrived now, performing the procedure they found worked best with the Makara: shooting at it until it disappeared in a cloud of cold vapor. The shots rang in the background as Marinette struggled with the Akuma, determined not to turn into an ice statue. One particularly rough shove had the Akuma's finger touch the Akuma's necklace. It had been ugly, so Marinette wasn't too sad when the ice jewelry crunched underneath the Akuma's weight. A white moth lazily flew from underneath the Akuma. Marinette wouldn't have noticed it if it hadn't been for the sudden yell of the tiny pink creature.

That's it, that's it! Grab your yo-yo and purify it or it'll be too late! The creature's shriek was so sudden that Marinette followed its orders without question. Almost as if she was a puppet, Marinette swung the yo-yo and caught the moth in the yo-yo's circle. Then Marinette reeled the yo-yo back towards herself and released the insect.

The Akuma at Marinette's feet froze over, then instantly melted, leaving behind a person. Marinette had no idea who she was, but one moment she had been an Akuma, and the next she was a living, breathing person. Marinette's hope rose, and she ran towards the police who had finally finished taking care of the Makara. The vapor in the air made Marinette shiver, but she didn't care.

"Officer!" she called. "Take me to the Akuma, all of the Akuma in the hospital. I can cure them."


The news later that evening spoke of the girl. The Parisians had named her Ladybug (never let it be said that the Parisians were the most creative of people, en masse). The news showed footage of the young girl single-handedly holding off a Makara. More impressively, they showed her de-evilizing the Ice Akuma, as well as some previously restrained Akuma in the hospital. The news showed footage of the people returning to their families, their homes, their lives. Marinette watched the footage on repeat until she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. She had been powerless before-forced to accept whatever protection the police could provide. No longer. Now, she was Ladybug. A superhero with the lamest name and tackiest outfit she had ever seen, but she was powerful, and she could change the outcome of the future of Paris.