A/N: Hey guys! By popular demand, I have indeed decided to continue this as a three-part series! Yay!

I feel like since most of the episodes can kind of stand on its own, I just wrote with the assumption that Adrien would see all his classmates except Chloe and Alya as clean slate for being potential Ladybugs (only because he's seen Chloe and Alya in the presence of Ladybug multiple episodes). Also, I know Hawkdaddy said that Ladynoir really do go on patrols together, but I took that out to give our favorite little Chat a bit more of a challenge to make the story more interesting! ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own MLB or any of its characters!

Warning: Extreme fluff coming up.

The silk polka-dotted sash lay still on Adrien's desk, completely untouched since he had placed it there the night he came back from the Masquerade ball. He had gone to bed in an elated daze and Plagg had teased him for being completely unable to stop smiling. It was now the Sunday right after the party and he had spent the entire morning still living off from the euphoric effects of having kissed Ladybug. Everything had seemed five times funnier and more extraordinary than usual.

He had always wanted to know who Ladybug was under her mask—that had always been true. However, after last night, Adrien seemed to have crossed a threshold so that now, there was a pre-Masquerade Adrien who could accept not knowing her identity and a post-Masquerade Adrien who would not stop until he knew. That kiss and their conversation had changed everything. Accepting he didn't know was now a thing of the past that he could no longer live by. He had to find out.

But until he did, he lay there on his bed glancing every now and then at the polka-dotted sash: an unintentional token from Ladybug that he nonetheless would treasure. Every time he caught sight of it, the butterflies would start fluttering in his stomach and he would be prone to goofy grins and dreamy far-off looks. What an enchanting night. He had no idea how he was going to function in school the next day.

School!

"Plagg," he called out from his bed. The kwami was on the desk eating a slice of cheese. "Do you think Ladybug goes to Dupont? Alya once made a blog post about Ladybug's history textbook. Could be coincidence though. Or another history class?"

"Oh, Monsieur, we've been through this before," Plagg whined. "And this is why I maintain that cheese is the only relationship worthy of pursuing."

Adrien rolled his eyes. "Come on, Plagg. Just humor me. What do you think?"

"If you think Ladybug might be at your school, why don't you just keep a sharp eye on everyone this week? Be on your guard and sniff her out."

"Well…I suppose I could."

He never thought of himself as a very good detective type. He wasn't like Alya. She was frighteningly attentive to little details and too observant for her own good. But perhaps if she could do it, so could he if he put his mind to it. If he wanted to know who Ladybug was this badly, then he had to try.

"You're right, Plagg," he finally said out loud. "No harm in trying. Gotta tap into those inner Chat senses."

He looked over at the sash again and allowed the sight of it to fill him with determination. He was going to figure her out. He was going to catch himself a Ladybug.

Alya had spent all Saturday night watching live updates of the Masquerade-special Summer Fashion Show and was now finishing her Sunday night polishing up her blog post before it would go live. She had to show Marinette all the pictures she found of Adrien at the event and tell her all the theories she'd been hatching about why Ladybug was found in his presence for the majority of the night. It was too good, such delicious gossip. She giggled to herself as she grabbed her phone to text Marinette.

"Girl, you have been so MIA this weekend! I have some big news for you tomorrow morning! Text me back, okay?"

With that, she stretched out her arms, hit the "post" button, and got ready for bed.

When she awoke the next morning, she was disappointed to find that Marinette had not responded. Why does she always do this? she thought, rolling her eyes. After she scarfed down some breakfast and kissed her mom goodbye, she left for school.

On her daily walk, she checked her blog activity, scrolling through the notifications on her phone and indulging herself by rereading what she wrote. She decided not to make any claims on her blog about Ladybug and Adrien, as she had yet to tell Marinette. Perhaps it was just a coincidence anyways. Famous model and son of a famous designer happens to talk to a famous super-heroine, who happens to be roughly the same age—she knew it was probably just one of those things that the media seizes upon, but it was exciting all the same.

Spotting her best friend, she ran up to her and nudged her shoulder.

"Marinette! You didn't respond to my texts!" she accused at once. "Did you even read my blog?"

"I'm sorry, Alya!" she said, looking sincerely apologetic. "I was busy and really tired by the end of this weekend so no, I didn't."

"No matter now," Alya said, waving away her apology. "Wait until you see what I've been reading up on the last two days."

She shoved the phone under Marinette's chin and swiped slowly through her photos. "Look! Ladybug attended the Masquerade but where was Chat Noir? She ended up hanging out with none other than Adrien instead!"

Alya studied Marinette's face for her reaction. There were pictures of Ladybug and Adrien standing together, then a few shots of them sitting together in front of the runway stage, then a few of shots of them dancing. Just as she had expected, Marinette's face went chalk white and she began to stammer.

"Alya, these—these pictures—err, what do you think they mean?"

"Exactly my question!" Alya exclaimed. "I have a few theories already. Perhaps they just met up and hung out because they were the only two people around the same age since Chat Noir wasn't there, because let's be real, who else would you talk to at a party like that? Manon's mom or another boring adult? Or perhaps they knew each other already before. Perhaps they just happened to be in a lot of pictures together because photographers just do that. Or perhaps—you have competition."

"Don't say that, Alya!" Marinette cried, clapping her hands to her cheeks. "I can't compete with Ladybug! How could I ever measure up?"

"Well, good news for you is that nobody knows who Ladybug's real identity is," Alya laughed, putting an arm around Marinette. "Even if he did like her, he can't spend his life chasing after an anonymous masked girl, can he? And—" she broke off eyeing Marinette suspiciously for her best friend suddenly fell silent. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, I don't know," Marinette shrugged, fishing around for words. "Do you really think I have competition with Ladybug?"

"Ah, don't worry, girl," she reassured. "I was mostly joking! Don't take it too seriously. He doesn't even know who she is!"

Alya wasn't quite sure whether Marinette was really that upset by her crazy theories, but she forgot her worries because when they reached the entrance of the school, Adrien's limo pulled up by the curb. She expected Marinette to blush furiously and jump behind her like she usually did. Even though she and Adrien had gotten closer over the last few months just by nature of being schoolmates, Alya thought the shock of seeing those Ladybug pictures would have given Marinette a new reason to be fidgety. The blushing, Marinette did, all right. What Alya didn't expect however, was for a small smile to grace her lips as she peered at Adrien out of the corner of her eyes, as though she had a secret. The moment Adrien spotted them, however, Marinette gasped and looked away.

"You're acting weird today," Alya commented, even though hiding her face abashedly was fairly normal. It was the only normal thing she did so far during that whole interaction. There were times when Marinette was an open book and her expressions were easy to read, but every once in a while, Alya had no idea what the hell was running through her mind.

"Ah, come on, we'll be late for class," Marinette said, grabbing Alya by the wrist and walking inside.

Marinette was staring at the back of Adrien's head. She did this quite often in class, but today it was even more intentional than usual. Her conversation with Tikki right after her transformation wore off that night replayed inside her head.

"Phew, that was a really close call," she told her kwami. She leaned against the wall in front of the subway stop waiting for a train while Tikki flew into her purse to replenish herself with a few snacks Marinette had picked up from the party. "I wanted him to know who I was so badly though."

"You played it off well, Marinette," Tikki said with her mouth full of cookies. "You must be feeling pretty happy with yourself."

"Oh, Tikki, it was such a magical night," Marinette sighed blissfully, tilting her head up to stare dreamily off into the ceiling. "I just wish it could have gone on forever."

"Adrien seems to like Ladybug a lot," Tikki chirped in agreement. Then she saw Marinette's face start to fall. "What's wrong? Aren't you happy?"

"He does, doesn't he?" she replied. Her voice sounded hollow even to herself as she contemplated Tikki's words. Just before she kissed him goodbye, she had thought about visiting Adrien as Ladybug during the week, but now she wasn't so sure. "I wonder if that's why he never really noticed Marinette."

"I've said it before but I'll say it again," Tikki said, finishing her last bite of dessert, "you are Ladybug with or without the mask."

"But if he doesn't know…if he thinks there's a difference," she struggled with her words. "I don't know, Tikki. It makes me wonder if he likes Ladybug for the ideal, iconic heroine…or for me."

She had most certainly been head over heels with joy, and that joy had still yet to be extinguished even as she sat there in class on a Monday morning, but there was also a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that made her feel uneasy. If Ladybug shone so brightly in his eyes, could he ever dim them enough to see Marinette? Would he still like her if he knew she was Marinette? And more importantly, would he still like her because she was Marinette?

'Psst," Alya whispered to her. "Adrien looks like he's in a good mood if I do say so myself."

"You think so?" she asked uncertainly, staring at his blond hair.

It was unbearable to think that she had kissed Adrien, yet he had no idea that the person he kissed was right behind him. She wished she could be dancing and reveling in the fact that they had kissed but instead she needed to keep it all a secret. It made it all the more difficult when talking to Alya, whom she usually confided in about all things related to Adrien.

She sighed and looked down at her notes, trying to concentrate on class for a change but the same question kept echoing in her mind, demanding her attention: would he still like her because she was Marinette?

Not Chloe. Not Alya. Those two were for certain people he could rule out as not being possibly Ladybug because of how often he saw them when they were in the company of Ladybug. He spent much of class that week pretending to take notes but really making observations and deductions on his notepad. It bothered him that Ladybug could still be someone in a different grade, a different classroom, or outside of their school…but like Plagg said, he had to start somewhere.

"Plagg, it's been nearly a week and I just still can't know for sure," he complained that following Friday night slumped over his bed. His kwami was eating cheese as usual but he spared Adrien a look.

"Not even any leads?" he asked.

"Well, maybe," he said, thinking of the various girls in his classes. He had even followed some of them out of school whenever he could afford the time just to see what they were up to. He also followed some girls that weren't in his class, and whenever he spotted anyone around him that looked like they were around the correct age range, he would try to pay extra attention to them. But even still, the possibilities felt endless and he didn't know how to narrow it down without accidentally leaving out the real Ladybug. "I think I'm just afraid to pinpoint who it is without any concrete proof, so I don't want to say or even think of anyone out loud."

"Maybe there's a part of you that's afraid of the truth?"

Adrien thought about this statement for a moment. He couldn't deny that perhaps Plagg had a point. He'd spent such a long time wondering who Ladybug was behind the mask that when it came to actually discovering who she might be, it was rather daunting.

"Maybe a little," he admitted. Then he let out a frustrated groan. "I wish I knew how to find Ladybug so I could just talk to her at least."

"So you can avoid a repeat of what happened today, huh?" Plagg teased.

"Don't remind me," he grumbled as the incident flashed through his mind. He had followed a random girl from another class after school that day, but being so focused on his objective of observing her closely, he had accidentally followed her into the girl's bathroom.

"These troubles are really not worth it, Monsieur," his kwami droned, finishing the last bite of the Camembert he was working on and picking up another piece.

He was starting to think Plagg was right: he just wasn't cut out for this sort of detective lifestyle. Examining everyone closely this week led to nothing significant or interesting, especially because he knew he was terrible at not getting too distracted. He had followed Juleka the other day only to end up extremely bored, and when he followed Marinette back to her bakery, he ended up buying a whole bundle of cookies and croissants, totally lost track of the mission, and left the shop without gathering a single piece of intel.

"Would it be bad to hope for an Akuma attack?" he asked sarcastically. "I don't know how else to find her." Besides Akuma attacks or perhaps really huge crime scenes, he was under the impression that they often transformed to save random people's days sporadically on their own, a pattern that was impossible to discern.

"Now you're really losing it," Plagg said, shaking his head.

"If only I had a ladybug shaped light to shine in the sky," Adrien sighed.

"A ladybug shaped light?" The kwami considered for a moment before he burst out laughing. "Good one, Adrien. Too bad she's not Batman."

Think, Adrien, he commanded himself. What was a way he could seek out a conversation with Ladybug without knowing who or where she would be on a day-to-day basis? If only he were as good at investigating as Alya was…

Wait a minute. Alya!

"The Ladyblog," he breathed.

"Er—sorry?" Plagg quipped.

"Maybe I can draw her out with the Ladyblog," he exclaimed, jumping off his bed and pacing around the room.

It was his best chance at getting a controlled meeting with Ladybug anyway, because even if they did meet on a crime scene, they would never have the time for a conversation. This way, they could actually talk in depth, and perhaps he, Adrien, could tell her how he couldn't stop thinking about her…

The only problem was that going to Alya as Adrien would lead to too many unwarranted questions, and Alya would no doubt question the hell out of the situation. No, he'd have to try his luck as Chat Noir this time and tease out information from Ladybug from another angle.

Excitement bubbled inside at the thought of seeing his Lady once again. A midnight rendezvous. It made him smile just thinking about it.

"Whatever you say, Monsieur," Plagg said, shoving the last bit of cheese into his mouth.

After a full and exhausting Saturday, Alya collapsed onto her bed, ready for sleep. She had spent the first half of the day running errands and taking care of her siblings—which would tire anyone out, really—and the second half out to dinner and a movie with Marinette. She barely had any energy left to post some of her newly evolved theories about Adrien and Ladybug at the Masquerade.

Thank God it's Saturday, she thought sleepily, her eyes drooping.

Tap, tap.

She thought she heard something, but was too tired to lift her head up and check.

Tap, tap, tap…tap, tap.

But it wouldn't stop…

Taking a deep breath for energy, she turned around in her bed to face her window. For a second, she didn't seem to register what was there; everything behind her window was dark and black. But then—her jaw dropped and her heart raced—there was an outline of a figure, and as her awakened senses started coming back to her, she realized it was none other than Chat Noir.

Suddenly alert, she jumped off her bed and crossed over to open the window. Why would Chat Noir be visiting her at this time of night?

"Well look what the cat dragged in," she smirked as he hopped into her room. "To what do I owe this great pleasure, Chat Noir?"

"Alya, right? Creator of the Ladyblog?" he asked, then continued without waiting for her response. "Appurrciate you for letting me drop by."

Alya rolled her eyes but she was chuckling on the inside. "I'm guessing it's safe to assume this isn't a catcall?"

"Very safe to assume," he winked. "You've always had such sharp senses, Alya, which is what makes you such a great blossoming journalist."

"Alright, you're puffing me up for a reason, aren't you?" she laughed, plopping herself in her desk chair.

"Like I said—sharp senses," he praised with a bow. "I do, in fact, have a favor to ask of you."

"Jumping straight to the chase, are we?" she asked.

"'A cat in gloves catches no mice'," he quoted, waving his gloved hands at her, "or ladybugs for that matter."

"Oh, it's about Ladybug, eh?" her grin widened. Already, several more theories were hatching—but she'd get to those later. She needed more facts first. "Alright, name it."

"I was wondering if you could possibly send Ladybug a message through your Ladyblog from me," he explained.

"A message," she repeated. He nodded. A twist of events in this Masquerade drama! she thought excitedly. "O…kay. And you ask this of me because you have no other way of contacting her?"

"Er—yeah, you see, we don't know each others identities either," he said. That confirmed a lot for Alya. Not that this information revealed anything in particular; she just enjoyed collecting these little juicy tidbits of data to add to her repertoire of Ladybug knowledge.

"Oh, I see," she said. "May I ask why you need to contact her?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

"Hmm, let's see. Maybe it has something to do with the Masquerade and how you weren't there?" she intoned slyly. She burst into laughter at the way he balked at this suggestion. She knew she was evil and she loved it. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

"Like I said," he grumbled in defeat, "too sharp for your own good…"

"Where were you anyways?" she questioned. "And how do you feel about Ladybug hanging out with another guy at the Masquerade, let alone the son and model of the famous designer Gabriel Agreste? Confused? Jealous? Indifferent?"

"This Chat is keeping its tongue," he maintained stubbornly, leaning on her window ledge.

"Well," she said, smiling her devilish smile. "I'll need something in return for this favor you're asking of me after all. Otherwise I won't post your little Ladybug catcall."

"You don't even have a Chat Noir blog," he accused, "and you're asking for information as a favor?"

"That can be easily remedied," she said. "It's like shooting two birds with one stone—I'll post the Ladybug request for you and make a blog dedicated to you. What a deal! How can you refuse my offer?"

"No, I can't tell you," he affirmed, "even though it'd be nice to have a Chat Noir blog." He shook his head again and waved the thought away. " Look, will you please just post it? I'll owe you something else another time. Besides, I'm Chat Noir. I'm pretty sure I can knock you over right now and post it myself."

"Yeah, sure," she said, "if you have both of my laptop and blog passwords, which by the way are different because I'm clever like that."

"Please?" he implored. "I'm making cat eyes for you. And you have an IOU from me."

She scrutinized him unsympathetically for a moment but then sighed as she saw his earnest desire to speak with Ladybug and desperate plea for help. She only hoped she wasn't getting too soft to be an unofficial reporting journalist. "Okay, fine. What do you want me to announce?"

Besides, she consoled herself, to mediate communication between the two superheroes could possibly give her a lot of access to private conversations. She cackled inwardly at the very thought of it.

"Hmm," said Chat Noir thoughtfully. "What time is it right now?"

"11:30 pm," she answered.

"Too last minute," he mumbled to himself. Then he looked up at her. "Okay, tomorrow, then. Sunday at midnight. Chat Noir requests a meeting at…"

He trailed off at her hopeful and eager look, which she had tried but failed to tone down. She attempted to rearrange her face so that she looked more calmly disinterested as she watched him absorbed deep in thought. On the inside, she was anything but patient, but she forced herself not to push anything too hard, in case there was still a chance that he might be specific about—

"The roof of the building where we first met," he said finally.

"And the cross streets?" she asked casually, hoping to catch him slipping up and revealing them to her.

"Nice try," he beamed cheekily, flashing all of his perfect white teeth at her, "but no cigar."

"Oh, come on, you have to at least tell me where you're meeting! Even if I don't broadcast it," she whined. "I get a favor!"

"Aw, can't you just do a cat a noble and unselfish favor out of the sheer kindness of your heart?" he begged.

She gave him an exasperated look but turned to boot up her laptop. "Okay, very well, very well."

"Pawsitively delightful," he grinned, giving her what she thought was an extremely cheesy smile.

"Zip it, kitty, or I might change my mind due to the unnecessary amount of awful puns," she said, cracking her knuckles and preparing to type. Still, she couldn't help thinking how endearing Chat Noir could be and vowed to tell Marinette about this later so that they could laugh about it together. Not to mention she could also tell Marinette that perhaps Ladybug and Chat Noir actually have a thing after all, which meant that Adrien would still be available. Opening her blog page, she started to type. "And don't forget: you owe me."

She really was growing soft.

The next night, Adrien arrived at his requested meeting place as Chat Noir at a quarter to midnight, wanting to be early so that he wouldn't accidentally miss Ladybug. Now that he was actually out here, he didn't really know what he should say to her. Somehow, he didn't think that telling her as Chat Noir that he couldn't stop thinking about her would have quite the same effect as telling her as Adrien. Asking if they could both drop the masks would be downright stupid, and as Chat Noir, he didn't know if he could share anything personal if she wanted both their secret identities to remain unknown.

He eventually decided to settle on apologizing for not showing up to the Masquerade and see where the conversation led on from there.

He checked the time on his baton. It was now exactly midnight but she still wasn't here yet. He clicked the button for the option to track her to see if she was on her way and his heart plummeted. She was still offline. Which meant that she hadn't transformed.

Adrien was so excited about the prospect of seeing Ladybug once again outside of their usual superhero thing that until he was now finally standing there on the roof under a mild Paris night, he forgot to consider the dreadful possibility that she might not show up, that maybe she hadn't checked the blog, or that maybe she did check the blog and decided she didn't want to come.

Exhaling slowly, he sat down under the stars and decided to wait in silence for another few minutes.

12:07…

12:15…

12:30…

Should he leave?

No, just a few more minutes…

And then he heard it—the sound of her yoyo wire protracting and retracting. It was now so familiar to his ears that he picked it up at once. Looking towards the direction of the noise, he spotted her swinging around towards him. Relief flooded his veins and as she landed softly next to him, he ran up to meet her.

"Sorry, I'm late, mon chaton," she greeted breathlessly.

"Don't sweat it, My Lady," he said, bowing.

"Is something wrong, Chat Noir?" she asked, looking around at their surroundings.

"No," he said, "just…wanted to chat."

"Really?" she droned, looking bored.

"Really," he said, winking and taking her hand.

"I don't know if this is a good idea, Chat—" she began to say but he put a finger to his lips to quiet her and sat them both down on the edge of the roof so that they were facing the view of the Eiffel Tower with the crescent moon hanging over Paris.

"I mean, this is nice and everything but I don't know if it's a good idea to hang around talking when there's no crime fighting going on," she continued.

"But, My Lady," he said, pouting, "we're always so busy crime fighting, we never get the chance to talk. We'll always have crime to fight but who knows if we'll always have each other. Let Paris be Paris for a few moments without us."

"You say that like you think you might die tomorrow," she joked, looking torn between worry and laughter. "You're not, are you?"

"Nope, I'm fit as a cat and fiddle," he assured her. "Come on, you have to admit it's nice once in a while to casually hang out like this."

"You call summoning me by Ladyblog casual, do you?" she teased, looking at him with that classic devious glint in her eyes that he loved so much.

"Don't pretend you don't like being catcalled like this," he smirked. She giggled.

"Okay, what did you want to talk about, Chat?" she said more seriously. He started feeling nervous again. He realized that despite how much time they had spent together as Ladybug and Chat Noir, they had never had a heart-to-heart. It made sense since they wanted to avoid finding each other's identities, but it felt strange that someone could feel so familiar yet still remain unknown.

"Well, firstly, I just wanted to say I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the Masquerade," he said finally. "I saw the photos though. You looked stunning."

"Thanks! I designed the whole outfit myself," she said proudly, pointing a thumb at her chest.

"Im-purr-ssive," he said. She grinned. She really does like fashion, he thought, remembering the way her face glowed at the runway show.

"But don't be silly Chat, you don't have to apologize for something like that," she chortled. "I missed the inauguration that one time, so I think you get a pass."

"You did," he said, and I caused an Akuma in your absence, he thought. "I guess sometimes even superheroes have important places to be."

"Too true," she agreed. As she looked up at the night sky, he was reminded of the way her eyes reflected the stars at the Masquerade. She had looked so beautiful and he'd felt so close to her in that moment. Yet now, sitting next to her as Chat Noir instead of Adrien, he somehow felt as distant from her as the moon.

"Can I ask where you were during the inauguration?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Her head whipped around to face him and for a split second, he thought he saw a warning look. "I mean—you don't have to tell me the details. I was just curious."

He expected her to scoff and say that any hint of her personal life would be foolishly dangerous to reveal, but she hummed thoughtfully and considered his question instead.

"Hmm, let's just say I was saving my honor during that time," she replied.

"Your honor?" he echoed, baffled at what that could mean.

"I did something embarrassing that day and needed to remedy it," she said simply. "What about you? Where were you last week?"

I was there with you, he wanted to tell her, but he knew he couldn't. Finally, he settled for an equally cryptic answer.

"I was actually with someone special that night," he murmured, trying to suppress a playful smile.

"Oh," she said, taken aback. It could not be clearer that she did not expect this response from him. "Um, wow, that's—that's great to hear. You deserve someone special."

She smiled and patted his arm but her tone suggested that something was off.

"But no matter what," she continued, "you'll always be mon minou."

This struck Adrien as an odd follow-up statement and her voice was…falsely cheery? Wait a minute. Was Ladybug jealous? But that didn't make sense. Wasn't she always rebuffing his flirtatious behavior? But here she was, saying he would always be her minou. Ladybug was jealous, even if only a little, but the thought lit a burst of excitement in the pit of his stomach. If only she knew she was actually jealous of herself.

"You deserve someone special, too," he said, suddenly feeling more confident. "Do you think you've found that person yet?"

"I-I've always had…" she stammered, her cheeks turning pink. I've always had someone special, he finished for her in his head. She liked someone, apparently. He knew that already. But was it possible she could slowly and unknowingly fall for him, too? He reached out to place a hand over hers with the purest intention of simply reassuring her, but she shifted uncomfortably and withdrew both hands to her chest.

"Oh! Would you look at the time?" she said in mock surprise as the bells of Notre Dame began resounding in the night. Getting to her feet at once, she began swinging her yoyo.

"Wait," he implored, frantically standing up next to her and holding her wrist back down. He had no idea what to say to make her stay—and in any case, it was getting late and they couldn't stay in their transformations forever—but he couldn't just passively let her go without trying to stop her.

"Chat Noir," she said, her voice suddenly aloof and business-like, "it's late, and I'm really tired. I don't think we should have talked like this."

"But, My Lady—"

"Au revoir, Chat," she said, facing away from him. "You should go home too and get some sleep."

And with that, she zipped off with her yoyo, leaving Adrien to feel like he had just lost her all over again.

The following Monday at school was excruciatingly slow. Adrien was exhausted from his midnight rendezvous and the conversation with Ladybug weighed so heavily on his mind that he had had trouble getting to sleep afterwards. As a result, he had little energy to concentrate on who Ladybug might be for he was much more distracted by trying to analyze the events of the night before from every possible standpoint. Not that the mission of trying to figure out her identity ever left his mind. It was merely running in the background, constantly buzzing somewhere in his ears behind the more pressing concern that 1) Ladybug was jealous and 2) she didn't want to talk about it and had left without another word.

"What's up with you, man?"

"Ow—what?"

Nino had elbowed Adrien in the ribs, promptly shaking him out of his reverie. It was nearing the end of their final period and the last ten minutes were lost to lack of concentration so their teacher decided to let them take a break as long as they stayed until the bell rang.

"Dude, you've been so out of it this past week," he said conversationally. "And you look especially bad today. What's up?"

As much as Adrien liked Nino and wanted to have a friend he could confide in, there were certain things he just couldn't tell him about, and his crush on Ladybug was definitely one of them. First of all, it was embarrassing to admit it out loud to other people and second of all, it would probably prompt a lot of questions about how he knew Ladybug so well, and he most certainly could not tell anyone he was Chat Noir.

But even as he thought this, Ladybug's voice echoed in his mind.

"Just promise me you'll let your closest friends around you see more of who you really are. Otherwise, I think they'd be missing out."

He did genuinely wish he could confide in Nino…perhaps he wouldn't have to tell him the whole truth yet still reveal more of himself?

"Well," he started, then, bracing himself for the weight of confiding in someone for the first time, continued. "It's going to sound cliché but…there's this girl."

"Alright, alright, I'm listening," Nino said eagerly.

How was he supposed to explain that he liked someone but didn't know who she really was? And how, at the same time, he knew her on a certain level that made him certain he loved her? Not only did it sound confusing, but there was no way in hell he would be able to tell Nino about the conversation from last night. He took a deep breath and went on.

"Have you ever felt like you knew someone really well on the interior but on the exterior, you're less sure about who they are but even though you try to find out, you're constantly missing them?"

He was met with silence and Nino's wide-eyed confusion.

"Uhh, not sure that I have," he said. "Is this a pen pal or internet crush or something?"

Adrien sighed dejectedly; he should have expected this. Nobody could really understand what he was going through. Then he felt Nino's hand on his shoulder. "But hey, I'll support you in whatever you're going through, dude, so continue on."

Adrien was grateful for this show of friendship but he wasn't sure how he could be any more explicit.

"Sorry, Nino, it's more complicated to explain than I thought," he groaned. "Bottom line is, I'd like to get to know her even better."

"Hey, you're the one who's always telling me to be myself," Nino said. "So just tell her the truth?"

There was no way Adrien could explain to Nino the frustration of how he and Ladybug were technically not supposed to tell each other the truth. If only he could find and talk to Ladybug as Adrien himself—Ladybug wouldn't be as keen to avoid the conversation if she at least thought he was the one unmasked. Wanting them both to remain unknown dictated much of her behavior towards him as Chat Noir.

"Thanks, Nino," Adrien eventually told him, patting him on the shoulder. "You're right, of course." The bell rang at that moment. "I'll see you tomorrow—fencing lessons," he said, getting up from his seat and leaving at top speed.

Now that school was officially over, he allowed his mind to settle back on the ever-pressing thoughts that had been plaguing him all weekend. Who is Ladybug? And did she like him back? How could he seek out a conversation with her as Adrien? If only he knew her civilian identity. What if she went to school with him? What if—

Wait a minute. He stopped in his tracks, feeling as though he should have a heavier load on his shoulders than he currently did. He felt around his chest and torso and realized what was missing. Where was his book bag? He had left in such a dazed hurry that he'd forgotten to take his bag with him. Shaking his head at himself, he turned around and ran back to the classroom. If his obsession with the mystery of Ladybug kept up like this, he was going to lose it soon like Plagg predicted. The combination of sleep deprivation and Ladybug troubles seemed to be consuming most of his brainpower, absorbing everything that kept him present in the physical world and causing him to become more absentminded than ever. It was just so frustrating to think that the real Ladybug could literally be right in front of him and he couldn't see it…

WHAM!

Adrien fell backwards in surprise, his head whirling. He had turned a corner and ran straight into someone. Thoroughly annoyed with himself for being so out of it and making him slightly later than he already was going to be for fencing lessons, he quickly sprang to his feet.

"I'm so sorry—" he said, finally looking down at whom he had crashed into. "—Marinette!" His poor classmate was on the floor rubbing her head and the stack of books she had been presumably holding before they collided was now sprawled everywhere. Feeling terrible, he began to help her pick them up at once.

"A-Adrien!" she exclaimed, scrambling to her feet. "Oh, n-no! You don't have to do that. It's okay, d-don't worry about it."

As she bent down next to him to collect her books, Adrien's heart seemed to have stopped. Among her various textbooks was a notebook that had fallen open to a page that she undoubtedly had spent a lot of time on. And as he stared at it, every thought, every conjecture about Ladybug that had been passively ruminating in his mind the past week seemed to click into place right then and there. Recognition struck him in a flash—even though Marinette snatched her notebook out of sight before he could fully register the contents of the entire page, she wasn't quick enough to prevent him from seeing the one thing he needed to see: an elaborate design of the exact dress that Ladybug wore at the Masquerade down to the polka-dotted sash wrapped around the waist.

"Thanks! I designed the whole outfit myself!" Ladybug's voice resounded in his ears, causing him to feel lightheaded as his heart continued to cease pumping blood to his brain. Ladybug is Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug. Marinette was his Lady. The girl he'd adored, admired, and loved all this time was none other than Marinette. The realization sent a jolt of electricity through him, jumpstarting his heart so that it was now pounding so fast, his chest was starting to hurt.

"Sorry, Adrien," she mumbled, fumbling with her backpack. "I'm so sorry, I've been really sleepy today and I'm always such a klutz, what must you—"

"N-no, you—you're fine," he stammered in shock, unable to suppress his wide grin while the phrase 'it's her, it's her, it's her!' echoed loudly over and over again in his head. "Say, Marinette—"

Bzzzzt.

He jumped and reached for the phone in his back pocket.

"Oh, no, I've got to run," he frowned, his spirits sinking. Giving her a classic Chat salute, he said, "catch you later," and ran off, leaving her stunned and confused in his wake.

In any case, he thought as he hurried off to grab his bag, he needed to think more about what to do with this new and groundbreaking revelation before he slipped up and ruined everything by acting too quickly like he usually did. He was determined to get it right this time. Now that he knew who Ladybug was, he had to be careful if he truly wanted to pursue her and make her his own.

He smiled as he glanced back at Marinette's retreating figure hiding her head down in shame. He was relieved and delighted to know that discovering she was his Lady did not decrease his feelings for her at all. He had to talk to her. It was time for Operation Ladybug to be set into play.

But until then, he thought, still feeling elated despite his need to focus on fencing soon, he could allow himself to relish in this small moment of victory. Because once fencing lessons were over, the real work would commence.

Let the cat-and-bug games begin.

—to be continued—