Author's Notes

Written For Kagami Appreciation Week: November 16: No Hesitation: Kagami is bold and holds nothing back she doesn't falter and knows what she wants, this is about the confident side of Kagami.

Warnings: Breakup, sad ending (for Kagami).

Once, on one of the many delightfully sweet and painfully tart orange juice dates that Kagami shared with Marinette, the baker had mumbled around the macaron in her mouth that she worried about Kagami. Wasn't her life's philosophy – no hesitation – dangerous in a way?

Kagami had set down her half-empty glass of orange juice and responded. "Hesitation itself is dangerous."

"But if you don't think about the consequences, if you're not patient with your stitchwork, you could mangle a design. You know the whole "a stitch in time saves nine" thing? It's not about acting quickly; it's about doing everything in the right order at the right time."

"You misunderstand. I can be patient, but I do not hesitate. There is a significant difference."

"Oh," Marinette had mumbled, clearly abashed in a way that made Kagami distinctly uncomfortable. It was difficult at times to ensure that her expression was not overly-blunt or harsh.

"Patience is allowing your guard to drop ever-so-subtly during a match. You wait just enough for your opponent to believe that he has an opening to exploit only for you to close it again when he over-commits." Or it was when she over-committed, drawn in by the vulnerability of her chosen target.

Marinette had nodded as she considered the analogy.

"Hesitation is losing a match because-" Kagami had paused, but she did not hesitate. "Because you see the opponent's misstep but are too caught up in all the myriad possible ways the fight could develop to actually take advantage of the moment."

Settling back in her chair as she looked away from Kagami, Marinette had watched the foot traffic pass them by. She had no response.

Despite her best advice, Kagami never quite knew how to switch targets herself. If she failed, then she was simply not applying enough force. She wasn't fast enough to take advantage of the opening.

Kagami was patient; Marinette hesitated; Ladybug just won.

Hesitation was loss. Apathy was death.

Patience was wisdom.

She had thought that to be the case, at least.

Further experience had taught her that at times patience was folly.

"Are you ... breaking up with me?" The way that his head quirked as he settled his shoulders against the row of lockers in the changing area of their fencing academy made him seem more confused than hurt.

"I am, Adrien, and I am sorry." Because it was only fitting, she stared down her enemy, never shying away. Her cheeks bulged large in the slightly curved compact-mirror she used to make certain that her hair was properly groomed.

Angling the mirror, she set her jaw, drawing on her mother's resolve, when she saw that he was looking to the ground. His eyes were too often on the ground, like he always needed to watch his footwork to know where he was stepping – a child learning the proper stance.

"Why?"

Because he would never break up with her.

"I... simply do not feel about you the way that I once did," she said as she tucked the compact into her bag, "and it would not be wise for us to pursue a relationship in that light."

"Oh. I- I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" He looked up at her, hands clenched together, and she nearly broke. "If so, I'm really sorry, Kagami."

"No, Adrien. You did nothing wrong. Your performance as my boyfriend was exceptional."

Odd to step into a blow. Clearly, she could never be Chat Noir.

"Okay, then. I- can we still be friends?" The manic desperation of a lost child had him trembling. Oh, he was so good at using his vulnerability. It was natural to him now, as her stoicism was to her, for precisely the same reason, and it infuriated her on his behalf.

Fire consumed another fire.

"Of course, Adrien. You are my best friend."

The ride home was spent in silence. Strange that a woman so obsessed with history and connection to tradition and the honour of family would own a company that designed and marketed an automated car. It was progressive. Isolated. There was not a hint of family there.

Patience was required to test defenses, assess the status of things, to see if an opponent could be overcome.

One hesitated when one refused to do what she knew had to be done.

So no hesitation. Tear off the dressing, heavy with adhesive, even if it was actually ripping out sutures from a newly-stitched wound, gangrenous and oozing puss. A madwoman alone strove to keep the sun from setting. The comforting balm she had been applying had such a beguiling scent and warmth; it only numbed the pain while preventing healing.

Only a fool stood and tried to fight the storm, and the wind did not respect a fool. The best she could ever hope to do was weather it.

Then, deference was required and proper as she greeted her mother formally and eventually, after her performance and activities for the day had been properly assessed, was allowed to depart, trudging up the stairs to her room.

She knew what she had to do, but held off doing it.

Because this time - this time, Kagami hesitated.

She waits until she is in the dark, under the covers of her bed, to cry.

Author's Notes

Short, melodramatic, and angsty. Apropos for teenage romances.

Also an excuse to drop nerd references.

Kagami knows what she wants, but that doesn't matter when what she wants doesn't reciprocate. Still, she doesn't falter when she knows what has to be done. Something of a prompt-subversion, I'm afraid.

She was certainly correct, though: Adrien's performance as a boyfriend was masterful.