4/14/18
The scent had been harmless.
A tiny little detail spritzed within the woven tapestry of his evening. But now, shifting around restlessly in his bed, it burned at the edges of his mind like the tickling flames, the innocent beginnings of a wildfire that cannot be contained. Anxiety-driven nearly to the point of insanity, Adrien jolted, sitting up straight, residing to the fact that an answer would be as easy to find as a speck of dust, lost upon the wind.
But it was in vain. A hollow attempt to relinquish the hold that this memory had implanted upon his mind. He had smelled this fragrance before. Long before he had caught a whiff of this scent in the coffee shop, it had brought him a sense of pain. A feeling of regret, sorrow, and even shame.
But what was it?
Adrien ignored the sounds of his sleeping Kwami (who had been quite unpleased with the amount of time that he had chosen to stay transformed) as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly. Running his fingers through his disheveled hair, he shuffled towards the bathroom whilst scolding himself for his irresponsible lack of rest. Any other time he would have gone straight back to sleep. Not this time, however.
The mid morning rays of the summer sun lit the room, blanketing it in a flood of yellow. It wouldn't be long until he would have to make his call.
With an unflattering groan and a quick slap of the cheeks, Adrien twisted the knob to the coldest setting, swifty throwing himself underneath the vehemous stream. His body shivered and his eyes burst wide as the water lashed against his skin, piercing him with the remorse of a set of throwing knives. Adrenaline surged through his veins while his hands worked at lightning speed. Then, he shut off the water, managing to complete his task in record time, quickly savoring the warmth that only his oversized towel could bring.
Mission success. Adrien grinned, shaking the cold droplets out of his hair like a cat caught unexpectedly clawing itself out of a stream. I am definitely awake.
Carefully wrapping the towel around his waist, Adrien glided towards his dresser in search of the perfect outfit for the day. He realized, gulping nervously, that it had been way too long since he had actually had a chance to get his laundry clean.
In his own little corner across the room, Plagg swallowed a large piece of cheese.
"Why did I have to insist that I keep up with my own laundry?" Adrien groaned, frantically fumbling with the undesired remains at the bottom of his underwear drawer. "All of these are either too small, too worn, or too scratchy. Surely there has to be something hidden in here that I would at least want to wear..."
Heartbeat pounding, Adrien froze in place, fingers trembling against the rough, wooden surface of small a hexagonal box. It was just like his own, sitting in the top drawer of his nightstand, adorned with its matching intricate red filigree. However, unlike his, this box was far from empty. Hawkmoth's miraculous had sat, for the better part of five years, untouched, unseen, in the back of Adrien's underwear drawer.
Adrien winced, memories washing through his mind as if he were a grain of sand caught up in the mighty sea. Pain. That was all that this tiny little item ever brought him. Pain from the absence of a father who had been so wrapped up in this miraculous' power that he neglected his own son. Pain from every akuma attack that had spread fear and malice throughout the city. Pain as its absence had caused a void making it much harder for him to see his lady. And now, here it was, resting peacefully, innocently, beneath Adrien's hand.
"What ya got there?" Plagg sung flippantly, floating swiftly towards Adrien through the air. "Oooo, Hawkmoth's miraculous," he teased. "What're going to do with that?"
Adrien gasped, yanking his hand away from the box to nestle his fist, protectively, against his chest. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to turn away and run as far as he could, distancing himself, indefinitely from that ominous broach.
"N-nothing," he stammered, tripping over his feet as he slowly backed away. With a not so graceful thud, Adrien landed, head spinning, with his butt on the floor and his pride squashed beneath him.
That cheese loving kwami is never going to let me live this down.
Plagg didn't even try to stifle his laugh. His chest was heaving as he succumbed to his unsympathetic instincts.
"If that box was so scary, oh mighty Chat Noir," Plagg panted, knowing that he was simply pushing Adrien's buttons and knowing what his next words would bring, "then why didn't you get rid of it already? I thought you were smarter than that," he sighed falsely, "I suppose Master Fu must have been wrong about you and-" his next words were muffled by the towel that had crushingly found its way on top of his head forcing him down upon the floor.
"You know why I didn't get rid of it!" Adrien dramatically began, arms flailing as he hysterically spoke. "It's not like I could have just waltzed up to Ladybug and said, 'Hey, bugaboo. My dad is Hawkmoth. Well, he used to be. That is until he gave me his broach. I need your help trying to find a place to hide it. Oh, you want to know who he is? Well that's easy, my lady. His name is Gabriel Agreste. Oops! Now you know I'm actually Adrien and my father is a criminal. Oh, and I'm not going to put him in jail because he's my dad so….."
"Yea. Like that was going to happen. And I soon as I would have tried to bury it or something, it would have just come back just like in that movie with that cursed board…...wait…" Adrien faltered, only just now registering the last words that Plagg had said.
He hurriedly picked up the towel, once again wrapping it around his cold, bare waist. "Who is Master Fu?" he asked, dusting off his kwami in hopes that he wouldn't be too mad to reply. "What do you mean he was wrong about me?"
"I'm sure I've told you about him before," Plagged grunted as he waved his hand over his shoulder, disgruntledly making his way back to his cheese.
"You most certainly have not," Adrien retorted, grabbing on to Plagg's tail.
"Sure, I did."
"Nope."
"Well that would explain why you didn't just take Nooroo back to him," Plagg broke free of his hold and spun back around, placing his hands on the sides of Adrien's face. "Did I seriously not tell you anything?"
"I guess not," Adried dryly replied, "So….who's Nooroo and why should I have taken him to this so called Master Fu?"
()
"Marinette! MARINETTE!" Alya's voice broke Marinette's dreamless sleep. "You have to look at this!" She shrieked, climbing up the ladder with an ecstatic grin. "You won't believe what, no who I saw this morning." A blindingly bright screen was shoved into Marinette's face as she yawned, struggling to focus her vision, unable to remain completely awake.
Alya leaned forward, straddling her legs on either side of Marinette, as she sat, perched atop of the drowsy girl's hips. The excitement that she had stored up inside for the past few hours could no longer be contained. Alya had tried to be a good friend. She had tried to let Marinette sleep, but as soon as the bakery sign had switched from closed to open, she had darted through the doors, up the stairs, and straight on top of her blue eyed friend.
"Come on Mari, just look at the picture. I'm dying here. You can't even imagine how hard it has been for me to hold this in."
Marinette grumbled, shoving the phone out of her face.
"Give me a second, Alya. Everything is still blurry." she cried, pushing her friend against the wall. Why even invest in an alarm? Why didn't she just have Alya wake her up every morning? Why, Marinette wondered in despair, did Alya choose the worst morning to burst into her room with no regard for personal privacy?
Before her eyes could close, she felt Alya's hands press against her shoulders, shaking them, in devoted exasperation. She moaned, unable to ignore the infuriating touch, allowing herself a moment to sit up and rub her eyelids. However, she couldn't ignore the position of the sun as its rays barely illuminated her room, knowing it was far earlier than she had even gotten up.
Why would Alya do this?
Marinette wriggled her shoulders and she fixed Alya with a stern stare.
"Just show me the stupid picture already," she demanded in a clipped tone, before opening her palm and allowing her expression to soften. "It's obvious that I'm not going to get anymore sleep."
Alya cackled in triumph while thrusting her phone once again into Marinette's, now prepared, face. An involuntary gasp erupted out of Marinette's lips as her eyes focused on the image before her. It took everything within her not to scream. Alya had gotten a picture of her.
No, Alya had gotten a picture of Ladybug.
Marinette's entire body burned, a raging fire coursing through her veins. Her vision blurred, mind muddled, as she sat, wordlessly in a state of blame. She had been reckless, careless, and now she was going to have to pay.
"I'm going to submit this picture to my editor along with an article speaking of the mysterious return of our two favorite superheroes." Alya rambled excitedly, pulling her laptop computer out of her bag. "I spent all morning writing it, and I just wanted to get your opinion before I turned it in. Maybe there is a new super villain in town that only Ladybug and Chat Noir know about, or maybe they are secretly dating but don't know each other's real identities. Better yet, they could be…."
"I am just going to stop you right there, Ms. Cesaire." Marinette huffed, hand raised and voice demanding.
Alya froze, not hardly believing the icey tone that her gentle, tender-loving Marinette had just used. Just as Alya was about to speak back up, the sleep deprived heroine cut her off.
"You can't just go around publicising someone's life like that, Alya," Marinette explained in a much softer voice. "Just think about how Ladybug would feel about having her picture shared throughout the entirety of the city. Don't you think that if she had wanted to be noticed that she would have opened up to the public herself, like Chat Noir had done?"
The former blogger, who was way too caught up in her story, hardly batted an eyelid. "Just let me show you what I have." She slurred with a crazy glint in her eye, attempting to pull up that article she had written. "The people are going to go wild. They are ecstatic enough as it is with the return of Chat, but with Ladybug now on the scene they will go ballistic."
Marinette carefully took Alya's hands within her own, gently turning her friend away from her screen.
"You. Are. Not. Listening." Marinette's calm yet determined voice began. "You shouldn't submit that article or post that picture online. Just think about it from another superhero's perspective…. Rena Rouge for instance." At the mention of her very own masked persona, Alya immediately perked up giving Marinette her one hundred percent attention. "How do you think that girl would feel if someone posted a picture of her without permission and started spreading all kinds of crazy rumors? Do you think that she would be overjoyed to hear that people are saying that she is a fraud? That she is simply a hero obsessed teen that gets her kicks from parading around as a fox. No wonder she says that she has the power of illusion. She is the biggest deception of all!"
A lump formed at the back of the reporter's throat and her eyes began to sting. "None of that is true," she coughed, endeavouring to hold back the tears that were trying to escape. "Why would you say something like that?"
Catching a glimpse of the newly formed water within in her friend's eyes, Marinette realized that she had taken things a bit too far. Stomping on her friend's feelings had not been her intention at all. "I'm just trying to get you to understand how your story could end up hurting Ladybug and even Chat Noir. I know you are excited that they have returned to Paris, but you have no idea on the reason why. You, of all people, should know about the importance of checking your facts."
Alya stiffened as the memory of how she had allowed herself to become akumatized flooded through her mind. She had recklessly accused Chloe of being Ladybug without finding any solid proof. In the process of trying to gain some evidence to prove to her friends that she was right, she had been caught peering into Chloe's locker.
But she had been wrong. Dead wrong.
Alya had vowed to herself that she would never believe anything that carelessly ever again, and she most certainly would never publish any ridiculous theory. Now, however, she found herself on the verge of submitting an article that had only one sentence of truth at best.
Alya thought through the situation, suddenly grateful for Marinette's perceptive warning. She didn't want Ladybug's reputation to be ruined by mere theory and speculation. There was a woman, just like herself, living a normal life beneath that mask. She didn't deserve to have her happiness marred by the slandering of her other half. Besides, if Ladybug wanted to ganter around the city without anyone knowing, then who was Alya to stop her? No one else had their every move publicised (besides maybe Adrien, but even he wasn't that bad), and Alya certainly knew that if it had been her, as Rena Rouge, then she wouldn't want the pressure of the media on her shoulders.
With a resigned sigh and a crumpling of her shoulders, the feisty brunette finally admitted to her defeat.
"Fine, you win." Alya conceded, carefully returning her computer back into her bag. "I won't post anything about Ladybug online or with my editor. She deserves some privacy." Then, eyes burning with newfound determination she added, "But if Ladybug ever decides that she wants to return to Paris, for real, I will be the first person to report it. Alya Cesaire never fails!"
Marinette giggled, a smile etched into her eyes, "I will hold you to that promise, oh queen of the Ladyblog. You would never let Ladybug down. Now, let's get this makeover started."
"Not until we have had a bite to eat," Alya chirped, dramatically clutching on to her now grumbling tummy. "I don't know about you, but this girl is famished!"
After sufficiently getting their fill from the bakery, the two girls settled upon Marinette's chaise, Ayla's fingers expertly working through her best friend's midnight blue hair. Alya spoke a mile a minute, never allowing her words to stray from the topic of Ladybug's return, but Marinette barely heard a word that was said. It was nearly nine o'clock, and she was expecting a phone call at any minute.
As if on cue, her phone buzzed in her pocket causing her to jerk in response. Marinette hastily pulled out her phone in an attempt to answer it, managing, somehow, to send it careening across the floor instead.
Quick on her feet, Alya casually sauntered towards the vibrating phone. A malicious grin spread across her face as she noticed a picture of a certain male model on the screen.
*Click*
"Alya here," she began, leaving Marinette sitting alone on the chaise, mouth agape. "Marinette is too clumsy to answer her phone right now. May I take a message?"
"Uh," The blonde hesitated as his hands began to shake. This was not a part of the plan. Marinette was supposed to answer the phone. Not Alya. "I…. uh… was just calling to see if Marinette wanted to go to the zoo with me later today."
"She would absolutely adore to go with you, lover boy," Alya stated boldly, "and so would I. Maybe we can make a habit out of this Saturday double date thing. What time should I tell Nino to meet us there?"
Well, that was easy. Adrien thought, scoffing at the fact that Marinette now didn't have to do much of anything. Besides from hanging out with Alya all morning and giving her a 'makeover.' But even that wouldn't be too hard. Marinette and Alya always looked amazing.
"Er… don't worry about it Alya," he countered. "I was getting ready to call Nino anyway. I will let him know to meet us all at noon." That last part was a lie, and Adrien hoped that Alya didn't pick up on it.
"See you then, blondie," Alya supplied whilst being chased, unsuccessfully, much to her own pleasure, throughout the pink clad room. "I'll make sure that Marinette looks super nice for you," she added with a wink causing the now red faced Marinette to somehow manage to trip on her two own feet, splaying herself, ungracefully, right in front of her best friend.
With that, the ombre haired girl placed the phone into her pocket, straightening up her glasses, and helped Marinette back to her feet.
"Geez girl," Alya sighed, "and to think that I once thought that you could have possibly been Ladybug. How could I have been so blind? If Ladybug had coordination like yours, well I don't even want to imagine all of the things that could have gone wrong. Although, watching her fight would have been a lot more hilarious." Both girls erupted into laughter, Marinette being the more amused of the two.
If only she knew.