"It's going to cost you," Plagg's glowing green eyes narrowed, peering over at ethereal blue emanating from the tiny bed beside her own.
Marinette crossed her arms, unfazed. She peered back and forth between the pair of Kwami. "Name your price."
His gaze didn't move—not immediately. "Get me a bit more cheese. The good stuff this time."
Rolling her eyes, Marinette slipped back downstairs.
She couldn't kid herself; this wasn't about Plagg being greedy.
Or at least… not entirely…
She pushed herself, this time knowing exactly where to go, skipping adeptly to the right floorboard to avoid alerting her parents.
Rushing to get back upstairs, Marinette moved with all possible speed. She really wanted to hear what they were talking about.
"You're sure, Plagg?"
Marinette frowned, her hand resting on the trapdoor, ready to push it open.
Tikki sounded weary.
"As sure as can be, Sugar Cube."
Marinette smacked her hand over her mouth to keep from giggling at the pet name.
She slipped back through the door to her room. In spite of how close the two Kwami were, in deep conversation on her desk, Tikki's eyes were distant.
That didn't bode well..
Plagg took the proffered cheese—aged sharp cheddar—quite readily, gleefully devouring it whole. It wasn't the best cheese in the house, but she had been right on her hunch. He had only really wanted to consult with Tikki first.
"You'll have to forgive him, Ladybug." Plagg chomped noisily.
"Forgive who?"
"Adrien…" Plagg swallowed the last bite whole. "He really just wanted one more night… to pretend that everything hadn't changed."
"What could he possibly have done that was so bad?" Marinette's arms crossed over her chest.
Plagg sighed, his voice growing even more hushed. "It wasn't what he did. It's what we both fear he hasn't been doing."
Silently, Marinette pulled up her chair to her desk.
"You remember the big battle, a couple weeks back?"
Her brows rose. "It's been a little hard to forget..." It had run overly long—well past dinner—and sent them both halfway across Paris. Passing lies to teachers was one thing… trying to fool her mother, who was wondering why she was hours late for dinner, was another thing entirely.
"Well," Plagg started. "After that battle, the kid turned straight home. He had noticed the purified butterflies on occasion before, only this time—with this butterfly—he saw that it had been headed in the same direction for the entire trip home. He didn't pay it much mind at first, … but when it started to loom around his home, he grew wary. Enough to tell me all about it as soon as he detransformed.
"From then on, we've both been watching the butterflies closely. Adrien was sure they were following him." Plagg hovered from one edge of her desk to the other, and back again. "He feared his identity might've been exposed, putting his father and Nathalie at risk. And that would only lead back to you. So, for the past few nights, he tried to head them off… only to notice that, no matter what he did, it didn't change the purified butterfly's path."
Marinette's brows rose, darting over to match Tikki's gaze.
Plagg nodded. "We both figured that could only mean they weren't coming back to the mansion for Adrien. Which only left one, far less palatable conclusion."
She paled in the darkness. "It wouldn't be the first time I thought as much…" she whispered. "But how—"
"That much, I can't tell you," Plagg confirmed, nodding back to his slumbering chosen. "Adrien has thrown himself wholeheartedly into research ever since. His father's travel absences lined up perfectly with the lull in the Akuma attacks. He checked his very thorough schedules, just to be sure. Referencing the calendars made him realize that there was something else we hadn't considered."
Marinette blinked for a few seconds before realization struck. She clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth. "Mayura…"
Plagg nodded sadly. "Mayura was out sometimes during some of Hawkmoth's absences. That was one of the things the Ladyblog made super clear. The kid and I both knew that his father's secretary didn't always travel with him. So, after patrol this evening, Adrien got it in his head to check in on her after getting an alert from the Ladyblog that the villainess had been spotted. He knocked at Nathalie's door, under the pretense of scheduling a date on his calendar… but that confirmed she wasn't home."
Marinette exhaled sharply, her shoulders slumping as she leaned back in her desk chair.
"That's why he was so sure," Plagg confided. "He's been so afraid that he let you down. He knows that he should have been watching far more closely—that he shouldn't have let his duties end when the battle did…"
"Silly, Kitty…" She breathed, peering back at Adrien as he tossed, fitfully. Why didn't he understand she couldn't possibly blame him?
These powers took so much of their time and energy… it was easy enough to tune it all out just to scramble back to where they were supposed to be and pretend to be none the wiser.
"The big question," Tikki murmured, finally breaking her silence, "is just what are we going to do about it…"
LadyNoire took to the skies.
She was mad; she was reckless.
Maybe it was the suit.
Maybe it was the fact she was only just coming to terms with the fact that her boyfriend's father seemed to be a total psychopath who had been terrorizing Paris for years now.
She exhaled sharply, struggling to fall into an easy rhythm while vaulting towards the Agreste manor.
Tikki had outright refused to take any part in this madness. But Plagg? Plagg wanted to lend a helping paw to punch the smug, sanctimonious smile off of Gabriel Agreste's face.
It was bad enough that they had been thrown off the scent purposefully for so long, but she seethed knowing that their enemy had been so close this entire time. Marinette couldn't abide the thought of Adrien staying in that house, unprotected.
She didn't trust his father—not so far as she could throw him. And despite having Kwami help, she wasn't sure she could toss him as far as she wanted to right now...
She hated that she'd been right, all those months ago. She hated that she'd given the man back that book.
Hated that she'd idolized his work.
The only truly good thing to have come from him was Adrien.
And Adrien—at least—was becoming his own man.
A good man.
No thanks to the father who'd locked him away and tried to toss away the key.
But they'd lost years—and handled far more burden than they'd needed to—when she had actually had Gabriel Agreste figured out, all along. At least until he'd apparently Akumatized himself to throw them off the trail.
She didn't blame Adrien; she couldn't. Not after she had watched him struggle, day after day, to learn things she already had as a child.
She'd watched him crave the love and affection of a father who was disinterested at best, despite occasional outward appearances.
He should have been protecting Adrien.
Instead, he had paid for his care… and given very little more than that, except for grief and pain.
And to what end?
She had to know...
Mayura was standing guard in the roost that sat atop the mansion, peering through her veil. Noticing Adrien was gone, she was just about to go out and organize her own search party. The cameras had confirmed he hadn't come home, and she was sure they'd hold down the fort in her absence.
Although she'd notified him, Gabriel had waved it off, thinking his son was far too unfocused on the trivial details of his teenaged hobbies, classwork, and silly notions of boyhood love.
Her purple eyes narrowed as she considered his empty room. She had already been suspicious, noticing him lingering around the halls aimlessly. Things hadn't gone well when Adrien had grown curious before...
When an intruder appeared, headed for Adrien's side of the house, she leapt down from her post.
The moment the interloper alighted on the open window sill of Adrien's room, Mayura struck with ruthless instinct. Surprised acid green eyes turned to face the attacker, and one clawed arm anxiously lifted in defense.
Wielding her wicked fan like a weapon first (and asking questions later), Mayura hacked and slashed, using the bared feathers to chase off the overly large cat, like a mama bird guarding her nest.
She hissed as the pest immediately vaulted away.
Mayura peered down—a streak of crimson was stained along the edge of her fan, and she grinned darkly.
At least she had gotten a good scratch in first…
