"Ladybug! On your right!" Chat Noir's voice rang out from the distance.
Ladybug jumped out of the way just as one of the akuma's giant tentacles descended, missing her by inches. Today's specimen, a giant cephalopod reminiscent of a kraken, had appeared in the Seine in the middle of the morning commute. Ladybug sighed. She had hoped she would make it to class on time today, but now it sort of looked like she'd be lucky to make it to her morning class at all.
They'd been battling multiple akumas daily for almost two weeks. The strain of all the fighting and trying to keep on top of her busy school schedule was getting to her. She knew her partner was stressed, too, maybe even more so than herself. He hadn't had the energy to make a joke at all this whole week. His movements were sluggish, his appearance a little more rugged and unkempt, and he was less focused than usual. They both were less focused than usual.
It didn't help that, for some reason, this particular giant creature seemed to be spewing cannonballs at random intervals, like something from a strange video game. As if the huge tentacles weren't enough…
All at once, she saw something glint on one of the kraken's tentacles. It was likely the akumatized object they'd been looking for.
Great, she thought. How do we get that? The shiny object was stuck inside one of the giant suckers. Hopefully we can figure it out with a little luck, she thought. "Lucky Charm!" She called out, a red and black-spotted tube of tennis balls. Looking around with her lucky vision, she quickly made a plan.
Several things happened at once. Ladybug pulled out a tennis ball and launched it at the item holding the akuma, dislodging it from the victim's tentacle; Ladybug caught the ball and threw it, intoning "Miraculous Ladybug"; the victim spit a cannonball at Ladybug, who was knocked out of the way by Chat just as she caught and purified the akuma, which had burst from the object- a silver bracelet with sea creature charms- as it hit the ground; and the cannonball exploded with a BANG and a rush of fire.
Later, Ladybug would not be able to recall in what order all these things happened, or how she was somehow able to get out of the whole mess alive. All she knew for sure was that when she sat up, the akuma was gone, the victim was safe, her ears were ringing painfully, and right where she had been standing just moments before lay a large pile of ash and the ring of the Black Cat Miraculous. Chat Noir was nowhere to be found.
No. NO! It couldn't be…
"Chat! Chat Noir!" Ladybug was kneeling next to the pile of ash, looking around. She was hoping, praying, that he would answer her. But no answer came. Tears came unbidden to her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she picked up the shiny black ring bearing Chat's signature lime green paw print, slipping it into her yo-yo for safe keeping. She couldn't bear to put it on, not when her partner….
No! Don't think like that! She scolded herself. You'll find him! You have to find him!
Just as she was getting to her feet, intent on searching the area, her earrings chirped a warning. She only had a minute left before her transformation wore off. That won't be enough time, she thought angrily. But he's more important! I have to…
"Ladybug!" A female voice called out. She looked around to see Alya racing towards her. "Ladybug! What happened to Chat Noir? We saw him standing there one minute, and then the next…gone!"
Ladybug struggled to keep herself together. It wouldn't do to break down in front of all of Paris. "I… I…I'm sorry, excuse me," she said, pushing past Alya and the growing crowd of people, jumping off into the rooftops.
Ladybug swung back into her apartment and collapsed onto her bed, taking out Chat's ring as she did so. Maybe she could question Plagg, she thought, releasing her transformation and slipping the ring onto her finger with shaking hands. It was heavy, heavier than she'd remembered. But then again, maybe it was just that the ring seemed to carry the heaviness of her feelings with it now.
For the first time since the end of the battle, she let her feelings wash over her. Her pain and guilt was nearly overwhelming. Why had she let herself be so distracted? Why would Chat take that hit for her? She should've been more aware! Was he alright? She didn't even know him without his Chat suit- he could be dead or alive and she wouldn't even know! At this thought, the tears reappeared, making their way unheeded down her face as she curled up into a ball cuddling her giant Chat pillow. Her sobs sounded throughout the room.
She dimly noticed Tikki and Plagg looking on, but didn't engage with them.
It was one thing to fail at being a hero, but right now, she felt much worse about her failures as a friend. She should have trusted Chat with her identity long ago; at least, if she had, she'd be able to know if her partner was alive right now or not.
"Marinette," Tikki was trying to get her attention. "Marinette, are you alright?"
Marinette shook her head, tears still falling thick and fast. "Why, Tikki? Why would he do that?" She wailed.
Plagg was the one that answered her. "Because he loved you, Spots," he said sadly, looking away. "…" Plagg bubbled as he tried to say his holder's name, then sighed in frustration. "He always loved you, from that very first day. He reserved his flirting and his jokes only for you. It was his way of letting you see his true self. Goodness knows he didn't get to show it very often…" he said, sounding pained as he thought of his kitten.
Marinette looked at him. "'Loved'? As in…past tense? You…you don't mean…"
Plagg shook his head. "I don't know much more than you do, Spots," he replied. "I know he invoked his Cataclysm just before the explosion, but I don't know anything else. He could have saved himself and just had his ring blown off his finger in the confusion…or he could have been the pile of ash on the ground. There's just no way to know."
Marinette's sobs resumed. It wasn't fair! It shouldn't have been him! It was all her fault…
"Tikki, I can't do this anymore," she said quietly once her crying had died down somewhat. "I can't do this without my Kitty! He…he was the only one who saw all my failures and didn't judge me. He was the one who believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself! And I…I let him down! And now he's g-go… missing!"
She burst into tears again. Plagg attempted to calm her, nuzzling into her cheek and purring in her ear, but she just cried harder as a thousand memories of Chat Noir came flooding through her mind at the sound.
He was encouraging her even as she was about to give up, that first day with Stoneheart.
He handed her a rose as they walked; she tossed it away, focused on their mission. Hurt flashed through his eyes, but he covered for it well, brushing it off as though nothing had happened.
He wrapped his arms around her, glad she was ok after a battle where he'd thought her lost forever. He was nearly crying as he embraced her tightly. She felt safe and cared for as she hugged him back.
He made a silly joke at the wrong time, getting himself tossed across the city by an akuma as a result. She caught him in her yo-yo string before he hit the ground, then teased him for not paying attention. He just smiled at her sheepishly in apology.
He tried to kiss her, but she just poked his nose and sauntered away.
He was sitting cockily on a lamppost in his "cat pose", hurling insults and puns at an akuma, who growled and rushed him, stepping right into Ladybug's trap.
She was thrown headlong into his chest one day during a battle, her proximity allowing her to hear a deep rumble in his throat. "Are you purring?" she'd asked him, and he'd looked at her, mortified. "N-nooo waaay," he lied, though not convincingly.
He was standing at her front door, offering her civilian self a 'once-in-a-lifetime chance' to help a superhero while she inwardly laughed at the irony, since he didn't know that her superhero self was the one who set it all up in the first place.
He was sitting with her quietly in their favorite spot, halfway up the Eiffel Tower, an arm around her shoulders as she leaned into his side, looking out over the night lights of Paris.
Her anguish washed over her in waves. Every new memory was like a knife to her heart.
"Marinette," Tikki said hesitantly breaking through her thoughts, "Chat would want you to keep your earrings. You said it yourself- he believed in you so much that he was willing to risk everything for you. Including his very life. He would want you to keep being the person he knew, not give all that up because of him."
She took a shaky breath as she pondered what Tikki had said. She knew Tikki was right…she just didn't know if she could bring herself to do it. She wasn't strong alone; she wasn't brave. She was just plain old Marinette, the girl who tripped over thin air and made a complete fool of herself saying stupid things at the wrong times, who was just the baker's daughter that dreamed of being a designer, but never even had the guts to stand up to Chloe when she picked on her. But if it was for Chat…
"Ok Tikki, I'll try," she whispered. "For him. I'll try for him."
"That's my girl," Tikki said with quiet pride. "Now, sleep. We can try to look for Chat after you get some rest."
Not so far away, a young man slowly came back to himself. His head hurt terribly. Actually, check that; his entire body hurt terribly. He recognized that he was laying on something hard. The breeze on his face told him that he was probably outside. The extra pain in his head told him he'd probably hit it. Hard.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, wondering if perhaps he had a concussion. He could see he was definitely outside. The midday sun shone down on him, warming his body. There was a river a couple hundred feet from where he was, give or take. He noted that the place he was sitting was not immediately noticeable to people passing by. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
The sound of the rushing water was soothing. He breathed deeply, letting it wash over his mind like the tide. Then he took stock of his body as he carefully moved to a sitting position. His head was pounding, the throbbing pain originating somewhere near his left temple. He touched the spot and his fingers came away red; he was bleeding, though not much at the moment, thankfully. His right ankle and wrist were both swollen, as though he'd landed hard on them at some point.
What had happened to him, he wondered? Maybe he was mugged? He racked his brain but…he couldn't remember. Come to think of it, he couldn't remember…anything. He reflexively took his right hand in his left, twisting his…wait. There wasn't anything on his finger, so why…? His head hurt too much; it was making it hard to think.
Moving cautiously, he slowly edged towards the river, taking his right shoe and sock off so he could dip his foot in the water. He hoped the coolness of the liquid would reduce the swelling so maybe he could make it further than a couple hundred feet from where he'd started. He stared down at his reflection- his sunshine hair was sticking up in every direction, and his bright green eyes looked tired. He was fairly tall, with a lean, athletic build; he was pleased to see he had plenty of muscle, as well. He was likely in his mid-twenties, if he had to guess. He noted that his clothing- a hoodie and jeans, with a pair of orange sneakers- seemed to be extremely high quality, which probably meant he had quite a bit of money to his name…now that he thought on it, what was his name?
He patted down his pockets, realizing that, if he had a wallet, it was not on him now, nor his phone. Another piece of evidence indicating he'd been mugged, perhaps? Either way, that wasn't good. Not only did he not have money with him, but he also had no clues as to who he was.
When he was satisfied that his foot and ankle were completely numb, he pulled his foot from the water, pulled on his sock and shoe, and carefully stood. He winced. Hopefully he could make a plan soon. Slowly, he made his way up a set of stairs to the main road and stopped in shock.
There, in front of him, was an enormous billboard bearing his own face. His photo-self was dressed in a dashingly casual outfit- a black polo shirt with a couple lime green stripes across the chest, and jeans. His hands were shoved comfortably in his pockets. A familiar smirk was plastered across his face, almost coming off as a smolder. "Agreste Fashions presents their summer line," the advertisement read, along with a date for what he assumed was probably a fashion show or some other such event.
That could make things more complicated, the young man scowled to himself. If he was on a fashion billboard, he would likely be recognized…by all the wrong people. As it was, he didn't know anything about himself, his family, his home, not even his own name…the only thing he knew was that he had, at least once, modeled for Agreste Fashions. He might be able to find answers there but…his instinct told him to lay low for a while. He absolutely did not want people to take advantage of the fact that he couldn't remember anything before he'd woken up on the riverbank, and he knew there were people that had no qualms about doing such things.
He sighed, trying to figure out what to do. He needed to get off the street. Someone would recognize him for sure. He looked around- in the immediate vicinity, he found a bakery, a grocery store, and a drug store. Perfect, he thought, a plan forming in his mind as he pulled up his hood. He turned to the drug store a little reluctantly. Looks like it's time for a heist.
A short while later, the young man was sequestered in a public restroom with the spoils of his expedition- a box of medium brown hair color, haircutting scissors, and some brown contact lenses, plus a cheap pair of oval-shaped reading glasses. He felt a little bad about shoplifting, but reasoned he could always pay the store back once he got a job and some cash. Actually, he counted himself lucky to have gotten away with it. He knew he probably looked pretty suspicious, what with his head smeared with blood and his hood hiding his blond hair.
He gazed at his reflection in the mirror, taking a moment to wash his face and clean the wound to his head before beginning to cut his hair much shorter on the sides and apply the dye to his hair and eyebrows. The fumes from the dye made his head pound even worse. He gritted his teeth against the pain. When he'd finished his disguise, he checked his reflection over a couple times, feeling satisfied.
My own mother wouldn't recognize me, he thought, confused by the pang in his chest as it went by. Perhaps it was his subconscious trying to tell him something…but his head hurt too much. He'd think about it later. He emerged from the restroom, breathing a sigh of relief in the fresh air as his headache receded somewhat. He looked around the intersection again. For some reason, the bakery seemed to call to him…though, maybe he was just hungry, he thought logically. From the state of his stomach, it had been a while since he last ate.
He adjusted his new glasses nervously. I guess we'll see how well my disguise works, he thought, striding over and pushing the door open.
The young man was suddenly overwhelmed by the wonderful, homey smell of fresh-baked bread and pastries. His stomach growled.
"Hello there, young sir," a jovial voice called from inside. "What can I get for you?"
The man speaking was large and beefy, with brown hair and mustache, his happy green eyes watching the younger intently.
"Sorry, sir, I- I don't mean to intrude. I was wondering- wondering if I might bother you for a job, sir?" The younger man asked politely.
The baker looked thoughtful. "Do you have any cooking or baking experience?" He asked, looking him over.
The younger man furrowed his brow. He didn't remember if he could cook, so he shook his head. "No, sir. But I'm a quick study," he answered, hoping it was true. Something told him it was.
The baker opened his mouth to say something, when they were suddenly joined by a petite woman with bobbed black hair and gray eyes. She blinked slowly at the young man, then at the baker.
"Tom, who is this?" She asked, seeing that he was not ordering something like a normal customer. The baker- Tom- raised an eyebrow in the young man's direction.
"Um…Jean Luc Chapain." The young man made up a name on the spot, extending a hand to the woman, who shook it. "I'm…new here in the city and was hoping I might be able to get a job here," he explained.
"Sabine Cheng, and this is my husband, Tom Dupain," she introduced them. She turned to her husband in silent conversation, then turned back to Jean Luc, who was attempting to twist his right ring finger off again for some reason. Must be some sort of nervous habit from his past life, he decided. "We'll take you on a trial basis," she said. "If by the end of the week we decide your employment is going well, we'll keep you on. How does that sound?" She asked him.
Jean Luc nodded, relieved. "Thank you, Madame Cheng," he answered. "May I…start now?"
Before she could answer, his stomach gave another loud rumble, and Tom chuckled.
"Come on, kiddo. Let's get you something to eat. Then we'll put you to work.