Adrien felt restless. For the first time, his room seemed small and cramped, like there was no space for him to breathe. He had been pacing up and down for at least an hour, occasionally stopping to grab his head in frustration, or to look up hopelessly at the ceiling, as if it held remedies to his worries.

His actions drove Plagg insane.

But what irritated cat kwami even more, was his compulsive checking of the phone for any new notification from the Ladyblog. When the model saw nothing, he would sigh in relief, exhaling the breath he was holding. He would then proceed with his nervous pacing, his strides getting quicker with every phone checking.

Adrien had been a Ladyblog follower since the day one, had read every post that Alya had created, had watched every video at least once. The new content on his classmate's blog always brightened up his day, chasing the dark clouds away, that accumulated because of stress and another disappointment he had to come to terms with. It made him feel closer to Ladybug, even though he could not be beside her.

She was the reason why he had started following Alya's blog in the first place. His motives were far from altruistic, however, and definitely didn't come from the goodness of his heart, or the need to support his classmate's passion. Neither he took any pleasure in seeing people gawk at him, he had enough of that already. Rather than that, discovering more about His Lady was what interested him.

To his great surprise and amazement, the blogger possessed the ability and wit to extract the side of Paris's heroine, even Cat Noir couldn't. With Alya, she got playful, chatty, open and welcoming. Ladybug took her responsibilities as a superheroine very seriously, she cared about the citizens and their safety so every reckless leap in the middle of the danger from the blogger (he actually admired her guts), should make her blood boil with anger and exasperation. But he knew that behavior was just an act.

Even though, Lady Luck would roll her eyes, would answer as if she thought Alya was the biggest pain in the world, her actions suggested otherwise. Adrien saw the look in her eyes whenever she was talking to the blogger, saw the fondness, the mirth, the mixture of conflicted emotions. He noticed the tiniest smiles of affection, that dared to break free from her control, the contrast between her harsh tone and her body language, suggesting a certain sentiment towards Alya.

He had never been graced with a similar reaction.

Adrien was very aware of that fact, and it made him fall into the embrace of this hideous, heavy feeling that crept around the corners of his mind, squashing painfully his insides. The feeling he rarely had to deal with.

From what he had learned about Alya these past few months, it was obvious that she was not the one to give up easily. She held her passion dear to her heart, deriving energy and motivation from it, pushing her own limits to get what she wanted. And most of the time she was after the new footage, after an astonishing scoop. When she acquired it, she made it known to the whole Paris through her blog.

She was the last person Adrien would like to learn his secret.

But the reality had no mercy for the weak, and never for himself as he had learned from the young age. Now that Alya found out his secret identity, she would expose him to the world, making it impossible for him to live a normal life, outside the walls of this house, that suffocated him and his happiness.

What would his father think if he knew his son was a superhero? The part of Adrien, the one that had been crushed and silenced long ago, wished he would be proud of him, would smile at him with love and joy. God, what the model wouldn't give to see approval in his parent's eyes.

Despite his occasional naivety, he was not that ingenuous to believe that his father would accept his alter ego. Gabriel Agreste would rather lock Adrien up in the cage than let his son continue the potentially lethal mission entrusted to him.

Adrien quickened his pace again, not minding the pain in his legs and spine. He checked the Ladyblog again, but there was nothing new. No photo, no short announcement, no video.

He pulled his hair back, shook his head, and began his thousand lap around the room. Why hadn't Alya written anything yet? She was always so quick to act, why would she torture him with suspense?

"Would you stop it already? I can't eat when you're acting like a startled sheep!" said Plagg in his bored, slightly annoyed tone, not being able to stand his Chosen's antics anymore.

Adrien stopped his nervous pacing, turning to face the kwami, his eyes wide, filled with fright. "How can you be so calm about this?! Don't you see I screwed up? Any minute now Alya will announce to the whole Paris that I am Cat Noir! My life is over, Plagg!"

The cat kwami remained indifferent to Adrien's overdramatic hysteria, he changed his position to the more comfortable one, swallowed a piece of Camembert, and reached out for another snack.

"If she wanted to make a post about you, she would have done that by now, wouldn't she?" Plagg pointed out, stuffing more cheese in his mouth. "Besides, you don't really know whether she saw you detransfrom. You may be panicking over nothing."

That statement stilled Adrien, making him dwell on the situation at hand from the different approach. "Do you really think she doesn't know?"

Plagg shrugged his tiny shoulders, "I'm just saying that your suspicious behavior might have given her stupid ideas. If you're that worried, go talk to her, find out what she saw. Just stop being the bundle of nerves. It's not like you are the first, whose identity has been compromised..."

The kwami suddenly paused, his words hanging in the air like an omen from the past, indicating the hidden message behind them.

Adrien blinked, taken aback. "There were other miraculous holders who failed just like me?"

The silence that came next was long and heavy, filled with anxious waiting. Plagg seemed to be thinking about something very hard. He took a bite of a Camembert, shrugging.

"Nah. Probably not. I just said that." He finally spoke nonchalantly, not knowing how his words would affect the boy.

Adrien became pale like a ghost, a certain realization hitting him. If Plagg, the most aloof creature on Earth, was trying to console him it meant his blunder had much more acute consequences than he had anticipated.

He buried his face in his hands, his body started to shake uncontrollably. "I knew it! I am a failure after all!"

Plagg abandoned his cheese, and flew up to the blonde, wondering how to cheer him up, but nothing came to his mind. He sighed, heading towards the kitchen to bring back some chocolate for Adrien and more cheese for himself. They would need a fuel to survive the night.

xxx

The night air was cold, and the wind was chilling the warmth-loving kwami to the bone. He was sitting on the parapet of the Pont Neuf, yawning loudly, and awaiting the arrival of his old friend.

Adrien had been worrying for at least half of the night until he finally gave in to his exhaustion, and fell asleep. Plagg's efforts to ease his Chosen's mind had had no effect whatsoever. Why had he been entrusted with such a troublesome boy? For once, he would like to watch over a more happy-go-lucky type of the miraculous holder. Someone similar to himself, who didn't get overly emotional about occasional hiccups along the way.

Despite his composed facade, the cat kwami was not as at peace with the whole situation as he seemed to be. After Adrien had fallen in the arms of Morpheus, Plagg had been staring into the night sky, rethinking today's events, not able to rest calmly. That's why he had decided to contact Wayzz.

As a guardian kwami, Wayzz was graced with the ability to locate auras of the other kwamis, which could reach out to him telepathically, when faced with critical conditions. That connection, however, was not to be abused, as the mental communication caused a great strain to their little bodies, impeding their powers.

Plagg had never been keen to rely on the turtle kwami, or to ask him for advice - it seemed too wearying and bothersome to do so. Not to mention, he would rather fast from cheese for a whole long week, than admit that he was having troubles handling his Chosen. He did not look like that, but he had a certain pride in himself, that refused to declare defeat.

But the growing worry after he had seen Adrien's pale, fearful face, caused him to turn to the Guardian's supervisor for help.

"It seems the cat's out of the bag, doesn't it?"

A soft, quiet voice woke Plagg from his musing, making him look up to see his green friend.

The black kwami scoffed, disgusted at Wayzz's attempt of a joke. "So funny. Like I didn't have to endure Adrien's daily dose of cat puns already."

His statement was met with a low salvo of laughter. "You have always complained about yours Chosens' lack of sense of humor."

Plagg didn't answer, his expression grim, not in the mood for a small talk. He kept staring into the dark nothingness of the river, his ears down, mimicking his resignation.

Sighing quietly, Wayzz sat beside his friend, his tiny hands supporting his head. He was not the one to fill the silence with unnecessary blabbering, nor the one to compel others to share what was on their mind when they were unwilling to. So he did what he had always done in similar situations: he waited. He waited patiently, his silent, steady presence varying the atmosphere, spreading over Plagg's tired nerves, calming them like a lotion applied on a burning wound.

The silence was stretching endlessly, yet Wayzz, being the epitome of forbearance, did not hasten the cat kwami. He let the cold wind cover them, dissolve their worries into thin air, and awaited the moment his friend would open up. Finally, Plagg spoke quietly, his voice almost an inaudible murmur:

"Master Fu isn't going to take him away from me, right?"

Wayzz regarded him, his eyes widening in surprise, his antenna straightening and then slumping down, keeping up with his changing emotions. So he was reminded of that time, he thought, suddenly feeling sorry for his friend. Before he could answer, however, the black kwami spoke up again:

"It's not his fault, well, maybe a little. But I should have taken better care of him, should have been more careful..."

Admitting to mistakes was not something that came to Plagg with ease, his pride always getting in a way, along with the conviction that reflecting on your own doings was too troublesome to do on regular basis. Him, acknowledging problems meant he couldn't cope with whatever was on his mind.

"He is not." said Wayzz after a while, causing cat kwami to look up at him. "What happened was unfortunate, but that doesn't mean Adrien is going to be stripped off the right to be the miraculous holder."

The black kwami didn't look convinced. "But we let that blogger girl found out his identity!" He argued, not quiet believing his friend's words. "She can easily expose him!"

"Are you defending him, or trying to get him punished?" Wayzz chuckled wryly, slightly amused in spite of the humorless atmosphere. He exhaled, preparing to beat some senses into his fellow kwami, interrupting him before he could continue to voice his worries.

"I know that with every century it is more and more difficult to adjust our powers to the non-stop changing world, but humans still cannot see our transformation. We are still ahead of them."

"But it works only once, the second time they see it, their brains are already familiar with our powers, and the transformation is no longer invisible to them." Plagg argued, seemingly eager to keep his spirits down. "And there's always someone who isn't tricked by our magic, someone who can see it from the start!"

Wayzz rolled his eyes, wondering whether his cat friend had forgotten that the turtle kwami was the most knowledgeable where their powers where concerned. "And of course, you assume that Alya is that one in a million person."

Plagg looked at him in disbelief. He answered, his words dripping with sarcasm, "You're right, I have absolutely no reason to think that bad luck is on my side."

Sighing, Wayzz admitted, "Master has been keeping an eye on her, and there's no denying the fact that she is an exceptional individual. She possesses so many traits that would make her a splendid hero, yet at the same time some of her characteristics disqualify her as a potential miraculous holder... I wouldn't be surprised if she could see the transformation-" he paused noticing Plagg's triumphant expression.

He held his paw to prevent the cat kwami from speaking, he shook his head, trying to get his thoughts back on track.

"In the end" he began, his voice getting quieter. "Whether she is or not affected by our powers, is irrelevant. What truly matters, is how Adrien will cope with the situation. His worth as the hero is being tested right now." Wayzz put his paw to Plagg's chest, in a gesture of encouragement, the corners of his mouth turning up, offering a small, calming smile. "You know what you ought to do, you just had a moment of weakness and confusion."

He looked straight into black cat's eyes, indicating his honesty through such motion, "You are a capable kwami, have more faith in yourself and your Chosen."

Shock and surprise were first to appear, followed by the embarrassment and a trace of happiness, causing Plagg to lower his gaze.

The silence fell over them again, but this time it was the comforting type of silence, the one that let sort feelings and thoughts out. The cat kwami wanted to ask his friend whether he had tried to contact Nooroo, but assumed that always-thinking-a-few-steps-ahead Wayzz, had already done so, probably without much of a success. The moth kwami was similar to himself, as he never searched for help, stubbornly putting more weight on his shoulders.

Instead, he asked about something completely different: "How did you know the blogger's name?"

Wayzz looked surprised for a brief moment, but quickly recovered, and chuckled. "Master sometimes watches her videos. He loves to make a fuss about his unmatched ability to choose heroes. I think he generally... What's the word? Ah, fangirls over Ladybug and Cat Noir."

The duo fell into a series of loud giggles, their spirits lifting instantly. Wiping off the tears, the turtle kwami proposed eating some cheese together.

"Make it a Camembert, and I will be able to stand your presence a little longer." Plagg answered yawning.

Wayzz rolled his eyes but felt glad that his friend was back to his old self. They got up and flew in the direction of Master Fu's house, ready to clean up his fridge from all the cheese they could find.

xxx

Surreal. That one word could accurately express the state Alya found herself in. From the moment she had been left alone in the alley, she felt as if she was living in a dream - everything around her seemed so blurry and clear at the same time. Her thoughts were piling up, creating a maze of interlaced considerations and ideas that connected in the same spot, into a one-tracked fixation: an identity of Cat Noir.

After the first wave of shock had subsided, Alya had headed to the cafe in order to join her sisters and Mylene. She had paid for the impressive amount of ice creams without complaint, gaining disbelieving looks from other girls by doing so. She had just kept sitting there, a sort of I-know-a-secret-and-you- don't smile on her face, self-satisfaction radiating from her body.

Mylene and twins, although, confused, had decided to just let it go, assuming that they would learn soon enough what got Alya in such high spirits.

As in a daze, steered by the growing excitement, the blogger started writing as soon as she got home. The words were pouring freely from under her fingers, she felt inspired, as if a muse knocked on her window, offering an endless creative flow. The awareness of the incredible scoop on her hands made her type with even more speed than usual. How lucky did she get, stumbling on something so big, right after she had missed another fight with an akuma?

Finally, after constant hunting for new information about Paris's heroes, she had discovered the identity of Cat Noir. Who would have thought it was Adrien Agreste of all people, the genteel well-mannered boy who had been kept under the protective veil all his life. He didn't match the wild image and character of the cat hero at all.

But that was why unraveling secrets appealed to Alya so much. World mysteries rarely were obvious, always leading to unpredictable circumstances and answers. Nothing seemed to give her the same rush of excitement or satisfaction.

The blogger finished writing her post and was just a motion away from shocking the whole world and securing her future, yet a small, almost inaudible voice inside her head stopped her. All exhilaration and enthusiasm gone, replaced with a sudden uneasiness, and she found herself staring at the computer screen.

She wanted to post the news on her blog, she needed to do it. Her whole life she had been living with a conviction that mysteries had been created to be solved and shared with the world. In the end, it was how the humanity progressed - driven by the insatiable curiosity and desire to present their finding to others.

Alya had a soul of an explorer, a discoverer, always in pursuit of something unheard-of, something unknown and unexplored. She was easily possessed by her objectives, not seeing a thing around when she indulged herself into her research. Not knowing a secret always struck a nerve with her, driving her crazy until she found out the answers. A born reporter was she.

More often than not, she couldn't keep her mouth shut, and sometimes unintentionally let out a secret entrusted to her. Not once had she fallen out with others because of that.

Every time something like this happened, she was left with a painful feeling in her chest, which she unconsciously refused to accept. Instead, she convinced herself that people just didn't understand that she was not at fault, and secrets were meant to be disclosed no matter what.

Alya bit her lip, feeling hesitant for the first time in a while. Somehow, sharing this particular secret seemed wrong. What would become of Adrien's life if she announced his alter ego to the world? She had read enough of superhero comics to know that compromised identity could change everything, mostly for worse, sometimes causing a hero to give up his job as a defendant of justice.

Was she that kind of person to destroy someone's peace for the sake of her selfish desire for accomplishment? Was she ready to sacrifice someone for a petty self-satisfaction?

It was not easy to admit, but her ambition and one-tracked mindset when it came to unraveling the truth, had already hurt others in the past.

She pushed the guilt dwelling inside her back, rationalizing the situation at hand from the perspective of a reporter. Was she hundred percent certain, she saw Cat Noir detrasfrom? The longer she thought about it, the more unsure she became, doubt surfacing in her mind. She remembered an intense green light radiating from the male hero, the moment of a brownout as if her brain had shut down temporary, and then?

Alya furrowed her brows, she concentrated hard, trying to recall what she had witnessed next. Her brain refused to revive the events as if there was installed a blockage of some sort. Why was nothing clear anymore? There wasn't a trace of doubt in her mind just moments ago, but now she felt all her confidence leaving her.

The blogger shook her head aggressively, eager to get rid of whatever was clouding her judgment. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, relating the motion a few times until she calmed herself completely. Even though her mind was playing tricks on her, she knew deep down that Adrien Agreste was Cat Noir. She just knew.

No matter what, she could not publish such information without any evidence, putting trust in an irrational hunch was not a way a true reporter handled things. And so her next move was clear as a day: she had to talk with a subject of her speculations. She had to learn the truth before sharing her findings with the world, or she wouldn't be able to call herself a journalist.

She braced herself for what was inevitable if she wanted to stay true to the promise to herself. Saving a post she had written would be too much of a temptation that would torment her to publish it on the Ladyblog. Alya reached a decision, a new wave of determination rising in her chest, she took a sharp breath, clicked delete, and - her document was gone.

The blogger cursed quietly. It didn't feel right to ruin her own work. Too late for regrets now, she thought, clenching her fists, a new goal already on her mind. In that moment, Alya promised herself to reach out to Adrien the next day, in order to dispel any doubts and misunderstanding.

But as it turned out, talking to her classmates proved to be much more difficult than she had anticipated.