She was alone. Marinette counted her lucky stars that she was alone this time and when she managed to get herself back under control, she couldn't help but wonder why she hadn't been akumatized. This was the worst she'd ever felt, and if Monarch was keeping an eye on her, he should know that, right?
She was exhausted of this, worrying about Monarch and the reign he had over the city. She'd done her best to not overthink the hints Chat had accidentally dropped while they spent time together, but no- if Monarch wasn't going to play fair, neither was she. She picked up her notebook and wrote down 3 columns.
Facts
Theories
Deductions
Marinette thought herself good at deducing things, but she didn't want to accidentally mistake a deduction for a fact while she was combing through information she'd gotten from Chat Noir.
The first note she made in her 'theories' column was 'Monarch is Chat's dad'. She wished she could have put it in the facts column, but she couldn't get past the fact that he'd mentioned it so off-handedly that it could have easily just been a cover story
In facts, she'd begun a list: 'Hanging out with CCN wasn't suspicious, Monarch thinks we're dating as civilians, Tom referred to CCN as 'son,' CCN has enough hair to tie into a ponytail, CCN has glasses.' Marinette hadn't realized just how much information about him she'd managed to ignore in just a few months.
She took out the letters he'd written to her over the course of the past few months and began searching for any details. Either the details of his writing, or the words themselves, but she didn't see anything she recognized from anyone else's writing. That was, until she looked a little more closely at a note from before they went to the arcade.
It wasn't very long. 'Of course, princess.' The words were innocuous, so she hadn't really looked at it once she replied to it, continuing their conversation and moving on to a different topic. There was, however, an imprint from something else he'd written, something she'd suspected he'd written as a civilian.
The few words she could make out in the imprint, 'Velocity- speed (w/direction), Acceleration- *change* in velocity(w/time).' It wasn't something that was particularly unique to him. She was pretty sure that most students in terminale, preparing for the bac, were learning about the same type of thing in physics classes, but it was something .
She took that note and taped it into the 'Facts' column. She pursed her lips and sighed, moving it to the 'Theories' section instead. Unfortunately, she couldn't be certain that it was his writing, as much as she wanted to believe that it was. She was hopeful her suspicion was correct, but she couldn't muddle her lists with her hopes without diminishing the integrity of the lists.
Before she knew it, her lists were practically full and her 'deduction' column was just as empty as it was in the beginning. Her parents had knocked on the trapdoor once again while she was working, but she couldn't distract herself from the breakthrough she was hopeful she was on the verge of.
She became distracted from the work when she heard her stomach grumble. She looked at the clock on her desk and blushed at the discovery it was already 23h45. She saw her kwami sleeping on the pillow of her chaise and just left her to rest while she went downstairs in search of whatever leftovers they might have.
When she stepped off the stairs to the living room, though, the first thing she saw was her bag of fabric. The last few hours had been so much of a distraction to her, that she'd forgotten Sabine said he'd dropped them off. She picked them up on her way into the kitchen, hoping to remember to bring them upstairs with her.
She picked up some leftover mapo tofu and heated it up. She debated bringing it upstairs with her before she decided to just eat in the kitchen instead. She figured she could use a few minutes to clear her head and think about her design before she returned to her quest for Chat Noir's secret identity.
She started to think about the spring jacket design she'd done earlier that week and was excited about the peplum-waisted design she'd come up with. She wondered what stitching color she should use, whether it should contrast or blend into the overall color of the fabric. When she finished eating, she went around the counter and washed her hands.
When her hands were clean and dry, she picked the fabric up out of the bag to look, again, at the texture and colour, wondering if it would-
Her thoughts came to a full stop as she watched a note fall out of the bag. It wasn't like usual, this one was in an envelope, something she'd never seen from her minou. It was marked, as was usual recently, with the word 'Princess,' letters originally starting in print, transitioning to cursive as it progressed.
She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, immediately reminded of why she hadn't gotten the bag of fabric when her mom first told her it was downstairs. She placed the fabric back into the bag and placed the letter on top. Marinette made her way back up to her room, knowing she had to read the letter, no matter how worried she was about its contents.
She placed the bag on the ground and sat back in her desk chair. She picked up the list she'd been working on, hoping to make some more discoveries in the new letter, but just as quickly as she picked it up, she placed it back down. She wanted to read what he had to say first, before she could use it as a clue about his identity.
She reached into the envelope and lifted the letter out carefully. It was thicker than usual, so she suspected that it was longer than usual. She wondered, briefly, how long he'd held the bag of fabric before returning it, if he'd apparently had time to write a longer note to her as well.
'Hey.
I don't blame you for leaving. I guess I should have seen it coming, I mean- for someone to think we're dating when you don't know who I am. I shouldn't be surprised that you left as quickly as I did. Especially given that the person who thinks we're dating is who it is. I know it doesn't make up for it, but you're safe.
I made him guarantee that nothing is going to happen to you because of me. I know that having his word probably doesn't mean anything to you, but please, trust me. There are some things that even *he* has standards for, and I know him well enough to be able to guarantee that he's not gonna do anything to you if he thinks there's something between us.
I'll leave you alone when I'm finished writing this, but I had to let you know. And I have to apologize. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have reached out in the first place. I promise that you don't have to worry about him. He was only keeping an eye on you because of me. He's been leaving me be for the most part, but he got suspicious of me having feelings for someone and decided to have some investigating done.
I'm sorry for worrying you. You're one of the most important people in my life, Marinette, and I don't want you to regret being in my life as long as you have been. I won't wait for an answer to this, but I hope you read it, at least.
Yours,
CN'
It was the first time he'd done something like that.
She'd gotten dozens of notes and letters from him over the last few months, but this was the first time he'd signed one so bluntly. Most of the things he'd said danced around his identity so that anyone who might accidentally see it wouldn't know who it was from. She hoped that this meant he was confident Monarch wouldn't see it.
