Author's Notes: Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir is an ongoing series by creator Thomas Astruc and produced by Zagtoon, Method Animation, Toei Animation, and more. Please support the official properties.

"Men are still good. We fight. We kill. We betray one another. But we can rebuild. We can do better. We will. We have to."

-Bruce Wayne, The Batman

Public Enemy

Chapter 9: Still Good

Officer Roger Raincomprix stepped out of his car once he arrived on the scene but he wasn't sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. He was coming to answer a call about a fight, so he was mentally prepared to have to break up a small brawl. But this…this wasn't result of a brawl. It was too...vicious was a good word. Horrifying even. One man's face was so beaten in that he was barely recognizable. Another was lying on the ground covered in shards of glass, clutching at his cut flesh and whimpering in pain. One more's nose was broken so badly that it was draining blood out onto the ground. Not dripping, draining - like a faucet left on.

He put the call in for an ambulance before going to check on the victims. Then he saw the gun. And the grenades scattered out of an open crate. He stopped, turning on his light to get a better look at the contents of the crate, then at the explosives everywhere. It was a miracle that whoever did this to them didn't set any off. Especially more miraculous was that any of them were still alive. The one whimpering from the glass was still conscious and he made his way to the man, "Hey!"

The man turned, shaking and eyes wide with terror. Roger lowered the light to get it out of his face and asked, "Who did this?"

The man was silent, eyes fixed on Roger's badge. Then he saw the man's eyes dart up. He followed the man's gaze upwards with his flashlight towards a rooftop. Where Ladybug was perched. As soon as the light was on her, she turned and vanished. He looked back down at the man, stunned and at a loss for words.

There were so many questions. Was Ladybug serving vigilante justice now, going after people smuggling weapons? Had she just gone rogue and violently attacked men transporting military cargo? Whichever it was, this was a level of brutality he hadn't seen before. And if it was, did the Parisian police have the ability to enforce justice on Ladybug?

…

Adrien dragged Ladybug against her will back up to the rooftop. He spun around to face her, trying to maintain his composure while also horrified of the blood dripping from her fist and demanded, "What the hell was that!?"

"We needed to know what they were planning," she answered, arms folded and gaze shifted away, "Now we have a lead."

"You punched that last guy's face in. And then you broke that other guy's nose! I don't think that's all blood coming out of his head!" he practically screamed in a panic, looking back down at their handiwork. Her handiwork. The guys he took out were unconscious and would probably wake up with headaches, but at least they weren't...whatever Ladybug did to the others. One of them was cut up with glass and still groaning in pain, another's face was beaten in so bad that it looked like a blood pulp, and the last's nose was broken and bleeding. This was not the Ladybug he'd fallen in love with. This...this was something else. And she didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by it.

But there was one other thing bothering him, "And what was all that about a bakery!? What was that about?"

"Nothing."

"Ladybug! If this is about Marinette...she's my friend too but you don't see me going around breaking people's noses! This isn't going to help her! What she needs are the people who care for her to be there for her. Not...this. If she were to see this, she'd probably feel guilty that you did all...this...for her!" he tried explaining to her. She seemed unmoved, "Or she'd wish you'd let it go."

Adrien didn't know how to answer that and insisted, "She wouldn't want this!"

"And how would you know that?" she said back, poking him in the chest, "What makes you think you know her so well?"

He didn't like that accusation and he answered, "She's my...friend."

"Oh, your friend?" she responded with air quotes. He pressed on anyway, "What makes you think you know what she wants? I've never seen you two together! Do you even know who she is!?"

That seemed to strike a nerve with her, "Why? Are you stalking her now? I know her better than you ever will! So stop acting like you know anything about her!"

Adrien was stunned. He didn't know what to say that. How could she claim to know anything about his friend? Did he really not know Marinette as well as he thought he did? The more he thought about it, the more he realized he only spent time around her if Nino was spending time with Alya and Marinette just happened to be around. Up until recently, he hadn't really spent any time with her that didn't involve a class project or something related to his father's fashion business. Maybe she was right. Maybe he didn't know her as well as he should've.

No, he did know her. He knew she was crazy into fashion. He knew she had her heart set on becoming a designer like her father. He knew she loved her friends and would do anything for them. He also knew that extended out to complete strangers that she'd happily help without batting an eye. She was a genuinely good person. And he knew she was hurt. Broken in a way that he had never seen before.

His fist tightened, "I may not know her as well as you think you do, but she's still my friend. And she wouldn't want this."

"Don't pretend you know what she'd want," she turned away, moving towards the roof's edge. As she reached for her yo-yo, she added, "I'm going across town to the drop point. Go ahead and do whatever you think your friend would want."

Maybe he would. And what she needed was a friend right now. He leapt off in the other direction, towards Marinette's family bakery. It was getting late now and the last thing she would need was a surprise night visit from Adrien Agreste. But Chat Noir knocking on her window? Weird, but he was a super hero after all. He could happily say he was just checking on her.

It didn't take long to arrive at her family bakery, where he found her dad quietly going about his business in the bakery. He couldn't imagine what was going through his mind after losing his wife - especially since he knew how loss affected his father. Gabriel Agreste had practically shut down after his mom…vanished. But that wasn't who he was here to see.

Where was Marinette? The light was on in her room, a good sign that she was still awake and he leapt over to her window, peering inside. Nothing. It was empty. Maybe he was wrong and he jumped down to the floor below to check the living room and kitchen.

Again nothing. He hadn't seen her in the bakery. Maybe she was in the bathroom? He decided he would wait a while in case she returned and leapt back to the building across the street - being careful to keep an eye on her bedroom window so that he'd see her come back in.

Then he noticed someone inside that he hadn't before - Luka. He was sitting at her desk chair, quietly strumming his guitar. He missed him because of the angle but was relieved to know Luka didn't notice him either. Why was he there? As much as he wanted to know, he couldn't think of a reason to be inside that wouldn't he come off as suspicious - especially since it may give away his secret identity. Chat Noir has no reason to visit Marinette this late at night. And he was sure the last thing she wanted was rumors about secret midnight rendezvous with one of Paris's heroes. Unless...

No that idea was impossible. But it would explain Ladybug's sudden fixation on avenging Marinette's mother. And that realization bothered him. If Marinette had been getting quiet visits from Ladybug, then was it possible that Marinette had asked Ladybug to do this? He didn't like that line of thought and tried to convince himself Marinette was not that kind of person. But now he was unsure.

Marinette arrived at the stadium to find it emptying out for the night. It seemed there had been a game and now crowds of people were making their way out. But why here? There were too many people here! Someone was definitely going to notice that a bunch of weapons were being traded. She used her yo-yo to swing above the crowds, relieved to know everyone was too busy focusing on the game to notice her. As she swung around, she eventually found a loading bay where four men were milling around a van. They didn't seem to be doing anything suspicious. But then why were they here and not at the game? What were they up to? That was reason enough to be suspicious. She had to stop them no matter what it was. She had to stop whatever they were planning before they hurt anyone else. No one else was going to die - no one else would know the pain of loss like she did. She would never allow it.

She wasn't going to wait. She leapt down in front of them, making her presence known before they could react. One of the men pointed her out, "Hey, is that Ladybug?"

"Hey! Ladybug! Can we get an autograph?"

"Play it cool, dude! You're looking like an idiot in front of Ladybug!"

"She's a lot cuter in real life!"

"Dude! You're like forty! For all you know, she's fourteen!"

She didn't quite register what they were saying. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she stopped them. And hopefully they'd know more than the last guys. She didn't know what she'd do if they didn't. She reached out her yo-yo and spun it in place.

"Whoa! Gonna do a yo-yo trick!?"

"Uh, she doesn't look happy."

"You're being paranoid."

"No yo-yo trick starts with a glare!"

"Calm down! She's a super hero! What's she gonna do? Attac-"

She didn't hear the end of his sentence because threw her yo-yo so hard that it struck him in the head. There was a loud crack as he jaw came off its hinge and he fell backwards. Then she wrapped it around another guy's leg. She pulled it as hard as she could, knocking the guy on his back and dragging him towards her. One swift kick was all it took to send him into another man. The other two were caught off guard and completely unprepared.

The fight was anything but - especially with the power of her miraculous. She was faster. She was stronger. More importantly, she could out fight them. She moved out of the way of their punches and grabs, stepping out of the way of their attacks so that they would tire themselves out before goin back on the offensive.

The next man who's jaw she bashed was getting back up now and charged her. But she countered him by grabbing his arm and bending his arm in the wrong direction. He screamed in pain and Marinette found a certain satisfaction in that. She twisted his arm around so that it dislocated his shoulder too before kicking him into the next man. The guy after them seemed to realize things weren't going their way and tried to run. But she was faster and her one good throw of her yo-yo hit his head. He fell face down on the ground, unconscious.

The last guy desperately tried crawling away on the ground but she stepped on his hand before he could get too far away. He yelped in pain, "AAAH!"

"I know you're waiting on the weapons. They're not coming. Why are there weapons in Paris?" she demanded. He looked up at her with terror in his eyes, "I don't know what you're talking about! What weapons?"

"Wrong answer!" she stepped on his hand so hard that she heard something snap under. He screamed even louder, and she let go of his hand just to watch him cradle it - as if he could mend whatever broke by holding it. She lifted him up into the air and growled, "Who's bringing the weapons into Paris!? What's the plan!?"

His eyes widened in terror, "Please! We were just watching the game! We were heading home! If this is about Francois, I'm sorry about what he said! He's an idiot! And a little socially awkward! Please!"

"Weapons!" she snapped.

"I don't know anything! I swear!" he answered.

"Then why are you parked over here!?" she roared.

"Bernard! Bernard snuck us in! He works security! He gets us in all the time! We'll buy tickets next time! Please! Just stop!" the man begged. His reaction was different. Everything about this was different. This wasn't like the man on the roof or the guys at the warehouse. He genuinely didn't seem to know anything. And it made her so…angry. And before she knew it, her fist was on his face - striking hard enough to draw blood and knock a few teeth out, "YOU'RE LYING! WHAT AREN'T YOU TELLING ME!?"

The man yelped with each hit - each strike - all the while smiling and refusing to answer. She didn't know how many times she'd hit his face. But she knew that all she could see was red.

It only stopped when she heard a gasp from behind her. She expected another fight, but she didn't expect to see a family. Two parents and a child they were hiding behind them. That was enough to snap her out of the red haze that had blinded her and she looked back down at the man before her. His face…if one could still call it that…looked like it had been beaten in. And they had seen her do it - but what if they were telling the truth? What if they weren't involved in that plan? Then she had just attacked a bunch of innocent men.

And now a crowd of people was beginning to gather - some with their phones out to take pictures and record what happened while others were calling the police. Just like when she'd stopped the bus-jacking. But now there was no ambiguity about her actions.

Chat was right. Master Fu was right

She acted too rashly. She'd let her anger and her frustration lead to her make the wrong choice. And after a night like tonight - everyone was going to know. She was so angry - at not knowing what was going on, at herself for being so careless, at these men for what they had done. And at herself for letting it get this far. She shook with an anger she hadn't known in a long time before using her yo-yo to swing away.

She wasn't a bad person. She kept trying to assure herself of that. She was not a monster. She was still good. But then what had she done? There was no way to justify or explain that. Right now, all she wanted was to go home and curl up in bed and just…not be here. What was wrong with her? What was she doing?