Chapter Six: Book
Plagg falls ill, forcing Adrien to take him to a healer. While there, he sees a very familiar book, which Master Fu lets him borrow. When he takes it to the library to decode it, he finds a very unlikely study partner...
Adrien wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The road before him shimmered in a heat-haze. He could faintly feel the warmth of the pavement emanating up through the soles of his sneakers.
He could almost imagine that the narrow laneway he jogged along was a stretch of barren desert, and he was in search of an elusive oasis. His musings weren't too far from the truth: he was carefully scrutinizing the numbers on the buildings he passed, making sure he didn't miss the one he was after. He knew the address of the place he wanted, but finding it in an unfamiliar part of town was proving to be difficult.
He was keenly aware of how long it was taking him to get there. Going on foot wasn't exactly the fastest way, but it wasn't like he could just get his chauffeur to drop him off at the doorstep - not without making up some kind of elaborate excuse. He might have found it easier as Chat Noir, navigating over the rooftops without sudden detours and blind alleys to disorient him, but... well...
The small lump inside his shirt felt even hotter than he did. He parted the fabric as much as he dared at the risk of his tiny passenger being spotted, hoping some cooler air might circulate. He peered worriedly at his inner pocket.
Plagg was curled up inside, his eyes shut tight. He was shivering all over, as if with cold. Though he looked like he could have been sitting in an ice-tray, he felt far warmer than seemed healthy for any living thing - even for a kwami.
"Nearly there," Adrien murmured, trying to sound reassuring.
Plagg's eyes opened into narrow green slits. "F-f-finally," he muttered, in a weak whisper that, even in the quiet back-street, was barely audible. "Y-you're t-taking your s-s-sweet t-t-time about-t it."
Normally, Adrien would have conjured up a biting reply to such criticism. But he didn't have the heart to right now, not when his kwami was struggling just to get those few words out. After a moment, deciding that his lack of a comeback would only betray his worry - and that the distraction might do them both good - he half-heartedly grumbled: "What kind of idiot gets sick in hot weather, anyway?"
"H-hey, I d-d-don't m-make fun of h-how s-s-stupid this-s h-heat m-m-makes y-your hair l-l-look."
Adrien frowned - not because the jibe really bothered him, but because it wasn't nearly up to Plagg's usual standard. He only resorted to unkind comments about his hair when he was feeling particularly annoyed, or particularly drained. He quickened his pace, watching the house numbers pass him by at a maddeningly slow rate.
Plagg had seemed a bit off-colour for a few days now, ever since the heat-wave began. Adrien had assumed that his sudden sluggishness was no different from his usual laziness. When the kwami's appetite dipped, he had finally started taking notice. He had only realized just how serious it was that morning, when he had joked that it was hot enough outside to melt cheese into fondue, and Plagg had only blinked at him.
Plagg not-reacting to mentions of cheese was like Ladybug laughing at Chat Noir's puns: it just wasn't done.
Adrien had been blissfully unaware that kwamis could even get sick; having found out in the worst possible way, he'd had no idea what to do. He couldn't take Plagg to a run-of-the-mill veterinary clinic without someone calling the local tv station - or the local fumigator. Reaching desperation-point when his tiny companion started to shake uncontrollably, he had begged Plagg to tell him what he could do to help. Though the kwami had seemed reluctant, he had given him the address of a nearby healer who should be able to help.
Adrien completely understood his lack of enthusiasm. Much as he wanted his kwami to get better, he was less-than-eager to involve an outsider. From the time they had met, Plagg had always been his secret, and his secret alone; the idea of someone else knowing what the kwami was - and who he was - induced a series of panicked thoughts. Be that as it may, there was no way he was going to simply wait for Plagg's symptoms to disappear on their own. Much as he was irritating, infuriating, often close to intolerable - not to mention how expensive it was to keep him supplied with cheese - his kwami meant a lot to him, far more than he dared to admit. There was no way he was going to even think about taking any chances with the health of someone so important to him.
Still, as he sped along the street, eying the street-signs cautiously as he went, several worst-case scenarios flashed through his mind. What if the healer trapped Plagg and refused to give him back? What if they treated him like a giant bug and tried to swat him? What if they guessed what the kwami was and figured out that he was Chat Noir? What if letting the reveal of their secret exposed them to Papillion? What if-
He belatedly realized that he was so busy worrying, he had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. A large brass number beside a bright-red front door caught his eye, and he instantly skidded to a halt. His shirt swung with the momentum; he hastily clutched at his pocket as Plagg swayed inside the fabric, terrified that the kwami might accidentally phase out through it. Trying to ignore the tremor against his palms, he looked up at the building opposite him.
At least he had finally found the right place.
He knew it was the right one when the sign in the window caught his eye. He recognized one of the symbols: the Chinese character for 'doctor'. It was one of the first bits of Mandarin he'd ever learned, along with several other words that might prove particularly useful to any overseas traveller. He rather doubted he would ever make it to China himself - his father barely let him across the street, let alone half-way round the world - but at least his lessons served some kind of purpose.
He opened the door and went in, quickly spotting another sign in French that told him Master Fu's healing-room was on the second floor. He took the stairs two at a time; panting slightly, he knocked upon the appointed door.
It only occurred to him as he stood there, heart hammering in his chest, that he didn't yet know how he was going to explain to Master Fu what Plagg was.
Adrien had seen enough kung-fu films to have formed a pretty good idea of what a Chinese healer should look like. He had pictured a tall, dignified figure with flowing white hair, dressed in magnificent robes of silk brocade.
He was slightly disappointed to find that Master Fu was a diminutive old man with short, greying locks, wearing a very un-traditional Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. He silently berated himself for expecting something so stereotypical. In a way, he was glad that Master Fu's appearance was so commonplace; it diverted him from his immediate worries.
Plagg was laid out on a cushion, dwarfed by the large mat that Master Fu had spread on the floor. Again, Adrien had some vague ideas of what 'Chinese healing' might entail: acupuncture, mysterious incantations, draughts of bitter herbs. Nothing quite prepared him for Master Fu's actual methods. The healer lit a stick of sweet-smelling incense, put a record of calming music on an ornate gramophone, and... struck a small hand-held gong directly over Plagg's prone head.
Adrien wasn't exactly sure what banging a gong was supposed to do for his kwami's health. Sure, the sound was actually quite pleasant; but it was not exactly mystical, besides being really, really weird. He was glad when, after a few minutes of this 'treatment', Master Fu replaced the gong on its shelf. He instead began making cryptic hand-gestures over his small patient.
Adrien kept waiting for something to happen - a miraculous healing light, glimmering clouds of magic, perhaps some unseen force that would make Plagg levitate in the air.
Nothing.
He knelt beside the mat, only self-discipline learned from several sessions of karate lessons keeping him from fidgeting in place. For about the tenth time since he had arrived, he glanced uncertainly at Master Fu. The old man was wafting his hands over Plagg in an array of mysterious sigils, his eyes half-closed.
Maybe this was just a precursive ritual. Maybe the real healing was yet to come. Maybe, in a moment, he would really start to-
"It is done."
"W-Wha-?" Adrien looked up with a start, wondering if he had heard right.
Master Fu smiled blandly at his dumbfounded expression. "It is done. The healing was a success."
Adrien looked sceptically down at Plagg. The kwami had stopped shaking, and now lay completely motionless. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign, or a very bad one. He leaned closer, looking for signs for life. After a moment, to his immense relief, Plagg gave a slight twitch. Rolling over on the cushion, he stretched luxuriously, then opened his eyes; their shade of green looked far more vibrant than it had in days. The kwami glanced around rapidly, recollecting where he was. As soon as his gaze locked on Adrien, he zipped toward the cover of the boy's shirt. Adrien felt him wriggle down into his accustomed pocket, not complaining even once that the light fabric was smothering him.
It really had worked - Plagg was better!
The sense of relief hit him like a tidal wave. He hadn't fully realized until then just how worried he truly was. He hastily blinked back tears, feeling silly, but utterly elated. If anything had happened to Plagg...
Master Fu was beaming at him, patiently waiting for him to recompose himself. Fighting back his emotions as best he could, Adrien swivelled on his knees to properly face the old man, smiling gratefully. He raised his closed right fist and clasped his left over it in a gesture of thanks, dipping a slight bow.
"Xie xie, Sifu, for your generous aid," he said, speaking in fluent Mandarin. "If you hadn't been able to help, I don't know what I would have done!"
"It's no trouble," Master Fu replied in the same language, stroking his chin and regarding the boy thoughtfully. "Your Chinese is very good, young man. You've mastered the accent remarkably well."
"Oh, t-thank you." Adrien self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck, switching over to French. "It's nothing compared to your healing abilities! Uh, how... did you do that?" Even if Master Fu's technique was a bit anti-climatic, it seemed to be highly-effective. Adrien wished he could do something like that - it would work wonders for the bruises he picked up in akuma battles! He wondered if it was possible for him to learn that sort of thing, even if he did possess the power of destruction? Perhaps it was more a Ladybug sort of skill... or perhaps it just depended on the sort of gong you used...
"Ancient Chinese secret," Master Fu said, with what might possibly have been a wink.
Adrien chuckled ruefully, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He should have known! Oh well, he couldn't really blame the old man. If his father's rivalry with competing fashion-houses had taught him anything, it was that secrecy was good for business. Besides, he had a pretty big secret of his own.
As if he divined his inner thoughts, Master Fu smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I can't give away anything more than that. I'm just glad that I managed to help your...pet." He hesitated over the word, shooting the boy a mildly questioning look.
Adrien stiffened, trying to hide his panic as he searched for an explanation that might make some modicum of sense. "Heh, y-yes, it really was lucky," he babbled, his mind working frantically to supply his mouth with an answer. "Y-You're probably not used to healing ca- uh, birds!" He changed what he had been about to say at the last split-second; even if Plagg looked like a very small cat, there was no way a flying feline was in any way plausible! "H-He's a very rare breed: the Peruvian capped black-bird. Isn't it funny how the crest on the head looks like a pair of ears?" He laughed nervously, hoping that what he said had been even remotely convincing.
"Funny indeed," Master Fu politely agreed. Adrien breathed a sigh of relief - for all of two seconds. "I imagine the fur-like plumage is very good for people with feather allergies."
"Uh, yeah, p-probably," Adrien managed to say, suppressing a nervous gulp. It was almost as if he knew- But of course he didn't, how could he? The old man's expression was blithely innocent.
"Well, I'm glad I could be of service, young man. If your bird ever falls ill again, feel free to bring him back. You can practice your Chinese some more as well, if you wish. It's not often I have such a talented young conversationalist call on an old geezer like me."
"Thank you very much, Sifu," Adrien said, with another half-bow. "I am grateful for the offer." He really was; but he couldn't accept it, much as he wanted to. Besides the difficulty of slipping away to visit without Gorilla or Nathalie noticing he was gone, he couldn't risk Master Fu asking more questions about Plagg. For all Adrien knew, he could be best friends with Papillion...
"I'd better be going," he said as he got to his feet, one hand protectively pressed over Plagg's pocket. With any luck, the kwami would never get sick ever again, making any further treatments unnecessary. They would have to talk about how they could to prevent this from recurring every time Paris had some particularly warm weather.
As he turned to go, Adrien took in the room with a quick glance. He had been so focused on Plagg, he hadn't really looked around; now, he was curious. The only places he tended to frequent were school, lessons or photo-shoots. It was a rare novelty for him to catch more than a glimpse of anywhere else. Master Fu's room had all kinds of furnishings and objects that piqued his interest. The folding screens and bamboo-print wallpaper reminded him of similar he had seen at Marinette's apartment - which made sense, since both Master Fu and Mrs Dupain-Cheng were of Chinese descent. The smoke from the incense-stick coiled languidly in the air, shimmering in the flickering light cast by a cluster of candles. The handsome old gramophone on the sideboard had stopped playing, the record having ended at some point during the session. The space was neat and spare, but not sparse. Besides the cabinet upon which the much-maligned gong stood, the only other large item in the room was a set of well-stocked bookshelves.
As he crossed the room on his way out, Adrien's eyes lingered over the row of neatly-stacked spines that faced him. He liked books in general, and many of these titles tempted him to stop and browse. Most were just the kind of thing he would expect a mystic healer to read: the I-Ching, Taoist theories, a book on the Buddha's teachings; a thick collection of Confucian sayings, tomes on feng shui and reiki. There were several classic texts that he himself had read, some of them in both Chinese and French editions: Sun Tzu's 'Book of War', 'Brothers of the Marsh', 'The Three Kingdoms', 'Strange Tales of Liozhai'. There was a whole shelf dedicated to different versions of 'Journey to the West', including - much to his amusement - what looked like a 'Monkey Magic' comic-book. And there, on the end-
He was half-way to the door when he stopped mid-step. He could've sworn... that looked like-
He actually took a step towards the shelf, squinting in the dim light. He had thought he recognized it, and now that he looked closer, there was no mistaking it: aged leather binding in a deep shade of burgundy, gold patterns of interwoven double-happiness symbols embossed upon the worn surface.
It was his father's book on Miraculous - the one he had taken from the secret wall-safe at his house, only to somehow manage to lose it at school!
Standing transfixed before the shelf, he started to reach out his hand towards it, before he remembered where he was. He turned to find Master Fu watching him, an inscrutable expression upon his face. "Does that book interest you, young man?" he asked, in what outwardly seemed to be a completely casual tone.
"Yes, it does," Adrien admitted, trying his best not to seem suspicious in any way. If Master Fu knew the contents of that book, there was a chance he might recognize Plagg and suspect... "I, uh, m-my Chinese teacher had a similar one, but I didn't get to finish reading it before he lent it to another student..."
Thankfully, it seemed that detecting lies was not one of Master Fu's mystic powers. "Is that so? Well, you're most welcome to borrow my copy, if you wish. I'm not reading it at the moment."
"Could I?" Adrien asked, before he could stop himself; he hastily scolded himself for sounding so eager. Still, it was too good an opportunity to pass up...
"You may - so long as you promise to return it in good time." Master Fu lifted the book off the shelf and offered it to him.
Adrien considered this condition carefully. It was true that he desperately wanted to replace his father's book before he noticed it was missing, but he couldn't exactly take Master Fu's copy to do so - could he? Much as he was worried about how his father would react once he saw that it was gone, it was wrong to steal from an old man - especially one who had been so kind to him, helping Plagg without asking too many questions. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage in a different way; if there was an author or publisher's details written somewhere on the book, he might be able to order a new copy for his father and put it in the safe before he knew it had ever been gone.
Besides, he really wanted to read it himself. If there was anything in it about Miraculous, then Chat Noir should look at it. And, now that he thought of it, so should Ladybug...
"Of course," he said out loud, taking the book with reverent hands. Thanking Master Fu again for his help, he left the room, gently closing the door behind him.
As soon as he was out in the hall, he placed the book securely in his satchel.
On the way home, Adrien bought a cooler-bag from a discount store.
It was a cheap thing, meant for tourists going on picnics or sight-seeing round the city, emblazoned with the colours of the French flag. It wasn't exactly stylish, but at least the insulation seemed to work just fine. Once he got home, he closed the door to his room, shut the blinds to block out the warm sunlight, turned the air-conditioning up full-blast, and... put on a jacket, since he was starting to feel rather chilly. In fact, it reminded him a little too much of being trapped in the refrigerator at the Grand Paris.
Plagg complained that cheese didn't taste its best when it was over-chilled, so Adrien stacked his camembert on the couch beside the cooler-bag. Every so often, Plagg would half-phase out through the side of it, snatching another wheel before disappearing in a chorus of munching sounds.
Adrien grinned as another empty wrapper shot out of the mouth of the bag. It was good to see Plagg back to his normal self.
He turned his attention to the book on the desk in front of him. He tentatively lifted the cover... and gave an immense sigh of relief. He would have felt like a real idiot if this book had an identical cover to his father's, but was completely different on the inside. Luckily, he opened it to find that the contents were exactly the same, as far as he could tell. He leafed through it carefully, paying close attention. He hadn't had a chance to study it as thoroughly as this before: he had only hastily leafed through it, first in his father's office, then when he thought Lila was looking the other way (not the best idea, as it had turned out). Now he examined it minutely, taking in as many details as he could.
It was weird, seeing a picture of a Chat Noir who had all the same features as him - ears, claws, tail, baton - but wasn't really anything like him (though the traditional costume was kind of cool; he wondered if it was easier to move in, not being skin-tight like his own suit). And Ladybug... well, she looked as amazing, but he was adamant that his own Lady was far more beautiful. And stronger, smarter, more talented and accepting of puns - but that was his own personal bias. He grimaced as he flipped over to Volpina's page; the illustration looked eerily similar to Lila's akumatized form. Did that mean that Papillion had seen this book? Or had he just used the image of Volpina in Lila's mind to bring her concept to life? He hadn't yet done the same with the bee, peacock or turtle kwamis. Each of these was completely new to Adrien; he gazed at them in wonder.
Were there really that many other heroes out there besides him and Ladybug? Where were they? Why hadn't they appeared? Where was the real Volpina? What had she/he/they thought of their impostor, if they had seen her?
The book was giving him far more questions than answers.
The prevailing question was this: what were those weird symbols on every single page? They looked like some kind of writing, and probably would have provided at least a few answers, if he could read them. They looked like captions for the illustrations, but they didn't resemble any language he could think of.
And he'd thought of a fair few. He'd Googled every possible form of writing that occurred to him: Cyrillic, Coptic, Demotic, Hieroglyphs, Cuneiform, Korean, Kanji, Hebrew - even Morse code. He got absolutely no matches. The most frustrating thing was that he was sure he had seen something similar before, but he had no clue where. In Master Fu's room, perhaps? He had the feeling it was something far more familiar than that...
He smacked the edge of his computer keyboard in irritation, only succeeding in making his Chinese dictionary topple over when the table shook.
Chinese...
He brought up a new tab in his web browser and searched for 'simplified Chinese' in Google Images. Rows of neat, angular symbols met his gaze. He gripped the arms of his desk chair excitedly. Yes, that was it! They weren't exactly identical, but the icons in the Miraculous book looked a bit like simplified-Chinese that had been broken down into even more basic components. He knew he'd seen those signs somewhere before - he'd once purchased a wuxia novel to use as practice for his Mandarin lessons (and just because he wanted to read the story), only to find he had accidentally ordered the simplified-Chinese edition instead of the standard version. Simplified-Chinese was similar to standard Chinese characters, but different enough to prevent him from reading it with ease. Still, if the symbols in this book were enough like simplified-Chinese for him to recognize and translate them, maybe he would be able to decipher the code!
He tried using an online translator for a few minutes, but was unimpressed with what little progress he made. He didn't like having to search for one term at a time; he would prefer to have a proper book he could browse through, comparing entries and browsing for random symbols. He needed a dictionary...
He turned to the cooler-bag across the room. "Feel like heading out, Plagg?" he addressed it. "I need to go to the library. That bag should keep you cool, and we can come back here as soon as you start to feel too warm."
Plagg's head emerged from the lip of the bag; the flap shuddered as he gave a complacent shrug. "Sure, I don't mind. It's getting a bit stuffy in here anyway. Oh, and I'll only come if you stop by that deli two blocks over. This cheese isn't nearly enough for me to rebuild my strength with."
Adrien shook his head, smiling wryly to himself. Yep, Plagg was perfectly fine now.
Adrien pulled the stack of books that formed one side of his improvised cubicle a little closer to him. He had littered about a few other Chinese dictionaries besides the one he was actually using, hoping no one would notice the Miraculous book among them. After the disappearance of his father's book, he was being extra careful - there was no way he was going to lose Master Fu's copy as well!
He would have preferred to borrow the dictionary he needed and take it back to the privacy of his room, but the librarian had briskly informed him that items from the reference collection was not permitted to leave the library. He didn't dare risk calling his Mandarin tutor to apply for special permission - word might get back to his father, and in any case he would have to explain his sudden interest in learning simplified-Chinese. He didn't really mind; the library was a nice space to be in, bright and airy, smelling pleasantly of old books. It was hardly very busy - he had chosen a small, local public library over the bustling Bibliothèque Nationale de France, as an extra safeguard against book-snatchers - but the presence of a few casual browsers was kind of soothing, compared to the stark loneliness of his bedroom.
The air-conditioning seemed to be keeping Plagg comfortable. The librarian had glanced suspiciously at the cooler-bag, but permitted him to bring it with him. He kept it close to his ankle beneath the desk, just as protective of it as he was of Master Fu's book. He had even bought a wedge of Saint Lacau sur les cruz on the way there to keep his kwami occupied, in case he got bored and wandered off to make mischief.
After all he had just gone through for Plagg, he wasn't taking any chances.
Half-absorbed in what he was doing, he heard the door to the library open. When he had first arrived and set himself up, he had surreptitiously lifted his head to scrutinize every new arrival who came in; but after less than an hour, he had given up on this precaution. Besides the fact that he had no idea what the previous book-thief might look like, all the people who came in seemed to be regular library patrons: parents with kids borrowing stacks of picture-books, teens in search of free wifi, pensioners wanting to read the newspaper in peace. Though their comings and goings were mere background noise here in his secluded corner, he still kept an ear out just in case.
He heard the librarian speak to whoever had just come in. She tended to give just a cursory word to some visitors, while others she greeted like regulars; this was one of the latter. "Oh, hello, dear! Good to see you again. Have you come for more design books? We just got some new ones with embroidery patterns, and others on crochet-"
"Thank you, madam," a voice politely answered. "Perhaps some other time. Today I'm just picking up some books for Maman."
"From the Chinese section?" the librarian asked.
Adrien tensed slightly. Until now he had had the small reading room off the main atrium entirely to himself; but if this person wanted the Chinese collection, they would have to walk right past him. He remained slightly on edge, though he told himself he was being irrational. It wasn't like Papillion was coming towards him; the voice sounded like that of a young girl. In fact, it sounded vaguely familiar...
"Do you need help finding what you're after?" the librarian asked.
"No thank you, madam," the voice replied; he could swear he had heard it before, but maybe he was just being paranoid...? "I've got the call numbers of the books I need, even if I can't read the titles."
Both the girl and the librarian chuckled. Adrien smiled despite himself. So she couldn't read Chinese, but the books were for her mother? That was just like...
"Okay, but call me if you need any help, alright?"
"Thank you, I will."
A pair of soft footsteps steadily approached his desk. Adrien kept his head down, pretending to concentrate on the paper in front of him, moving his pen slightly as if he was writing something. His senses were on full alert, trained on this intruder, waiting for her to go past before he relaxed his vigilance.
The footfalls came towards him... then stopped. He heard a slight intake of breath.
He resisted the urge to look for a few long moments, puzzling over what it meant, wondering why whoever it was had come to such a sudden halt. Had the book been recognized? Had he been recognized? If it was some invasive fan wanting an autograph-
He lifted his head to find his classmate Marinette frozen in front of him, watching him with wide eyes.
For a moment, he simply stared at her like she was doing at him, too surprised to do anything else. Then he realized he was being silly. This library was close to his own house, and she lived nearby as well; she must come here all the time. There was no untoward reason for her to be here, he had just run into her by chance.
And the fact he was staring at her was probably freaking her out.
He forced himself to smile. "Hi there," he said, waving his pen at her.
She seemed to snap out of her stupour, flailing on the spot for a moment before regaining her balance. He resisted the urge to chuckle. Marinette was smart and talented, but a little spacey. He supposed it came with being a creative type; he had been around fashion-designers all his life, and had known several who were a bit like her in his time. He fully believed that Marinette would become one of the greats someday; her work was already exceptional. He just hoped she would turn out to be as distant and preoccupied as his father. Given how kind and considerate she always was, he sincerely doubted she ever would.
"Oh, h-hi," she quavered nervously back at him.
That was the other thing about Marinette: she either had confidence in spades, or she was painfully shy. It used to freak Adrien out, thinking that she still hated him for the gum incident, until he became accustomed to it. That was apparently just how Marinette was.
But is it really just shyness now? Adrien noticed, to his alarm, that her wide blue eyes were trained not on him, but on Master Fu's book. His own green eyes darted nervously between her and the heavy tome, which was opened to a page on the turtle Miraculous. He wanted to slam the book closed, but it would be way too obvious that he was trying to conceal it if he did.
She seemed to notice that she was staring; she dragged her eyes back to him, giving him a small, apologetic smile. "What are you... working on?" she asked hesitantly.
He drew a Chinese dictionary towards himself, trying to look casual. "Mandarin homework," he said, with deliberate nonchalance. "Don't worry, it's not for school; you're not missing out on any homework."
She breathed a sigh of relief that, to his amusement, seemed slightly exaggerated. "Thank goodness for that!" she murmured, pressing a hand to her chest. "It looks really hard!"
"It's not really," he answered, honestly. "Not if you know a bit of Chinese already."
"I know a little bit," she admitted.
Adrien cursed himself for making conversation like this. He wanted to be alone to get on with his task, but he was too polite to tell her to leave.
"Really?" he asked instead. He had thought she had needed him to translate for her uncle that time because she didn't know any Chinese. Then again, they had both thought that her uncle hadn't known any French...
Marinette nodded in reply. "After Uncle Cheng's visit, I thought it was time that I learned some. I want to be able to talk to him in his own language, since he went to the trouble of speaking French to me. And it's something that my mother and I can do together."
Adrien smiled, ignoring the tiny throb his heart gave. His own mother had been a talented linguist; she had handled many of his father's overseas clients, back when they had worked together as business partners, besides being a married couple. He didn't begrudge Marinette's close relationship with her mother, but it made him feel more than a little wistful. "That sounds nice," he said aloud.
She nodded again. "Is there anything... I can help you with?" she asked. "I really haven't learned very much, but you helped me that time with Uncle Cheng, so if there is anything I can do-" Her eyes drifted to the Miraculous book again. It was too late for him now to hide it, she had definitely already seen it.
Still, there was no way she could know what it was, so it should be safe. Perhaps if he talked to her for a bit, it would satisfy her enough for her to leave him alone after a while. "I'm trying to translate this book from simplified-Chinese to standard characters," he explained - really, it was no less than the truth. "Simplified-Chinese is similar to standard, but still quite different. I didn't recognize many of the characters, so I came here to get a dictionary."
"I can't read simplified-Chinese either," she said, looking crestfallen. "I don't know if my mother can, I could ask-"
"N-no, thank you," he said hastily, trying to sound gracious. "My, er, my tutor assigned it as homework, so I should do it myself."
"O-oh, I see." She seemed a little disappointed; Adrien felt bad for brushing her off.
"You said you were learning?" he asked, giving her a kind smile. "How's it going?"
"Very slowly," she admitted, fiddling self-consciously with the hem of her jacket. He felt bad again; she knew he was fluent. He really wanted to tell her that there was no shame in just starting out, but she kept on talking. "I'm still just learning the basics: numbers, colours, animals, simple phrases..."
"That's a good way to start," he said, encouragingly. Colours and animals, huh? Well, there should be no real harm in... "Want to see if you can read this?" He finally closed the Miraculous book, pushing his sheet of hand-written notes towards her with his other hand. "This is what I've translated so far. There are a few words here that you might already know."
She crossed over to him a little hesitantly. He hoped he hadn't put her on the spot, seeing as she was just beginning to learn. Then she glanced at the paper, and a bright smile lit up her face. "I can read this," she said.
His eyebrows lifted in surprise. Did she mean she could read all of it? "That's great! Can you read what that says?"
He pointed to a pair of characters near the head of the page. She studied them intently for a second, then nodded and said: "Black cat."
He very nearly rocked backwards in his chair. Though he had been the one who asked, he wasn't quite prepared for her to say 'Chat Noir' out loud. Usually when someone was saying it, they were addressing him directly; and most often, it was his Lady, calling him by name! Though, come to think of it, he had met Marinette while in costume a few times now, and she had called him 'Chat Noir' on those occasions. That must be why it seemed so familiar when she said it now...
"T-that's right," he said, regaining his composure as quickly as he could. "Anything else you can read?"
She studied the paper again, and her smile grew. "Let's see... This says 'green turtle', and this is 'yellow bee'... I'm pretty sure that's the character for 'fox'..."
She sure did know her animals! Adrien remembered that she had claimed to like all kinds of creatures, back when Nino had invited her to the zoo (or, to be more accurate, Adrien had invited her on Nino's tongue-tied behalf). He was almost sorry he couldn't share the book of Miraculous with her. If she liked animals, and had a fascination with heroes even half as strong as her friend Alya's, she would be delighted by all the different kwami.
"B-butterfly..." Marinette went on as her eyes scanned the paper, faltering for the first time. Adrien winced inwardly. He wasn't fond of the word 'papillion' himself.
"Very good," he praised her, and she beamed at him. "How about this one?"
"Ladybug," she answered instantly, with such confidence he was momentarily taken aback. Wow, she really did know her stuff! It was almost as if she had studied... but no, there was no way she could possibly know all the different kinds of Miraculous... even Alya didn't know that, and she knew more than most civilians...
He shook off the notion, instead concentrating on how happy she looked. She was proud of herself, no doubt about it; she gave him a slight smirk, apparently pleased to have risen to the challenge he had set her. He remembered how competitive she had been when they were training for the gaming tournament together. It had been awe-inspiring, and more than a little irritating, to see how casually she had flaunted her skills.
He had his own competitive streak, and it was beginning to rear its ugly head. That had to be the only explanation for it: if he had been thinking clearly, he would have had the sense not to do it. But the humility he had been forced to swallow at her hands when they had played Mecha Strike III flashed through his mind. Seeing her victorious leer, his immediate instinct was to try to wipe the smug smile off her face. It was an unfair impulse, and an ungallant one, but it entered his head before he could deter it in time.
"How about this one?" he asked, pointing to a character at the bottom of the page.
The instant he drew her attention to it, he realized his mistake. There was no way she could get this one; even he wasn't sure what it mean, he'd just made an educated guess. When she inevitably couldn't translate it, he'd have to admit that he didn't understand it either, laugh it off, write some more random animals down to distract her-
To his utter amazement, without so much as a hesitation, she smirked triumphantly at him, and said: "Kwami."
It took a good few seconds for the significance of what she had just said to reach them both.
Adrien felt as if he had been hit over the head and stunned with something - possibly the heavy book of Miraculous. He was temporarily incapable of doing anything other than gaping open-mouthed at her. Marinette looked proud of herself for a moment longer; then, as the full implication of what she had just said dawned on her, her expression turned horrified. She clasped her hands over her mouth, as if by doing so she could draw the words back in.
He managed to find his voice first. "Y-you know... what a kwami is...?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was exactly the wrong thing to say. Geez, so much for secrecy! What would his Lady say if she knew he was talking about confidential super-hero things with a civilian like this? Even if Marinette didn't understand what he was talking about - how could she? - this was strictly off-limits. Maybe the damage could still be undone, maybe he could laugh it off, say it was a made-up word, a kind of Pokemon, some sort of lame joke-
Her reply sent him reeling all over again. "You know w-what... a kwami is too?"
They stared at each other again in bewildered silence. Then, without warning, Marinette emitted a high-pitched squeak that was only partially muffled by the hands she still had clamped over her face.
Adrien jumped, startled by the sudden squeal. He glanced around anxiously; just as he feared, people browsing the shelves nearby turned to look their way, drawn by the noise. From behind the front desk, the librarian frowned at them. He rounded on Marinette again; she was still gazing at him, looking like a statue posed as 'speak no evil'.
"L-let's go discuss this someplace else," he suggested, trying to make his urgent whisper sound calmer than he felt. He replaced the Miraculous book in his bag, piled the assorted dictionaries neatly on the desk - he felt bad for leaving them there, but at least he had tidied them a bit - snatched up the cooler-bag from beneath the desk, and took Marinette by the arm. He steered her towards the exit, smiling brightly at the librarian as he passed.
He was pretty sure he had never behaved more suspiciously in his entire life.
Beside the library was a small paved courtyard, where borrowers could take their books to read, or office workers could stop to have their lunch. It was deserted, most people having taken refuge in shaded cafes or air-conditioned cinemas. It was in the shadow of the building, at least. Adrien, mindful of Plagg's recent illness, was reluctant to take his kwami out into the heat, but he had very little choice. He needed to know how Marinette knew about kwami, and it wasn't a conversation he wanted anyone else to overhear.
He had been leading her to a bench on the other side of the courtyard. Halfway there, she suddenly wrenched herself free from his grasp, with a force that surprised him. He hastily pulled his hand away from her.
"S-sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was acting like a total creep - he must have scared her, grabbing at her like that! "I didn't mean t-"
"How do you know?!" she interrupted him. Her tone of voice was nothing like that she had used in the library; it was suddenly sharp, commanding. A bit like the way she had spoken to him during the dreaded gum-on-seat incident. She glared at him in such a no-nonsense way, he found himself subconsciously shrinking away from her. "How do you know what a kwami is?" she asked again, staring him down interrogatively. "If you know about kwamis... do you know about Miraculous?"
Without thinking, he clamped his left hand over his right, hiding his ring from view. It was bad enough his father had examined his jewellery with minute attention; given the way this conversation was going, he really didn't want her to notice it just yet.
"Uh... I, uh..." he stammered, his mind a complete blank.
"You do know!" she accused, eyes narrowing. "How do you know? If that really is the book - but then you must have met Master Fu!" The name sent a jolt through him, but he had no chance to acknowledge it; she wasn't done with him yet. "Did he let you have that book back? Is that how you know? But if you only just started translating..."
She paused, eyes sweeping over him. He clenched his hands a little more tightly in front of him, hoping she wouldn't ask to see what was inside the cooler-bag dangling from his arm.
"Are you... a Miraculous-wielder?" she finally asked him. Not waiting for an answer, she rushed on, as if she was thinking out loud. "But which one would you be? I know you don't have the turtle kwami; and the peacock is out, since you're allergic to feathers. The fox kwami...? But then you wouldn't have fallen for Lila's tricks. The bee is possible-" her eyes flickered over him again "-but I don't see a comb in your hair..."
She stopped, having reached an impasse, going back to scrutinizing him in apprehensive silence. Adrien felt more than a little dazed. She had just named every single kwami in the book! Well, almost every kwami. If she had accused him of being the wielder of all those different Miraculous, that meant none of them were hers, and he knew she didn't have the cat-kwami; which only left...
His own eyes were drawn to her earlobes, and he caught his breath. A slow smile gradual formed upon his face; he quickly tried to smother it, seeing her scowl at him.
"There are still a few other kwami left," he said, boldly summoning up his voice. If his suspicions were correct, he very much liked where this was going. "You haven't asked me yet if I'm Papillion."
Her reaction was instantaneous: her eyebrows shot up, her posture went rigidly straight, and she took a defensive step back. Her voice was tight with anger when she spoke. "That's not something to joke about," she all but growled at him.
He chuckled. He couldn't help it. That was so her, it was really her, how had he never seen-
He wished he'd had this conversation with her long ago.
He spread his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry," he said, putting as much sincerity into his words as he could. "You're right, it's nothing to joke about. You'll be relieved to know that I'm not Papillion." He pointed to the collar of his shirt and the absence of a butterfly-shaped pin there, hoping she would notice the silver ring on his finger - just like he had noticed the earrings that she wore. All this time, she had been sitting in class behind him, she had been so close-
"You also haven't asked me if I'm Ladybug," he went on, speaking the name - her name - with relish. "But perhaps that's because you already know that I'm not... because you know perfectly well who she is..."
He saw her blanch, saw her expression swiftly change from anger to fear, and felt a stab of guilt. Giving her his friendliest, most charming, devastatingly Chat-like smile, he held up his right hand so it was plainly in her line of sight.
"I think I now know who she is, too... don't I, Buginette?"
His words elicited no response for a minute or so. She was staring at him again, and he didn't blame her. He saw her keen blue eyes dart from his face to his hair to his finger to his eyes to his ring again, then back to his face. She frowned in concentration, evidently struggling to recognize him; then her expression went completely slack, registering nothing but shock.
"...Chat Noir...?" she asked him, very slowly.
He started to laugh again. He knew he shouldn't - she might find it disrespectful - but he couldn't help it. "I nearly fell off my chair when you said those words before," he admitted. "Now I know why." He smiled fondly at her, all the tenderness he had for his partner transferring without difficulty to her. To Marinette, this girl, this brave, smart, wonderful girl, who was-
"Good to finally meet you out of uniform, my Lady," he said, lowering his hand to sweep it aside in his customary bow.
She still stared at him. Her own hand went to her forehead; her bangs, pushed aside by the gesture, shifted to reveal a stud earring winking at her earlobe.
"Oh my gosh," she muttered, sounding dazed. This only made him laugh again - nervously, since his Lady was right in front of him and he had no idea what she thought of who he was; and with relief, because he knew who she was at last, and he was so, so happy.
"Plagg?" asked a feminine voice, somewhere around the level of Marinette's hip.
Adrien gave a start, realizing that it hadn't been her. A red kwami poked its head out of her purse. It eyed Adrien up and down, then focused on the cooler-bag, understanding in its large black eyes. "Is Plagg in th-"
"Tikki?" the cat-kwami replied, phasing half-out the side of his cooler-bag. "Hey, Bug-breath, long time no see!"
"Oh, Plagg-!"
A red blur zipped across the space between them. The ladybug-kwami plucked Plagg out of the bag, danced a few dizzy mid-air twirls with him, then paused to hug him fiercely.
"I've been so worried about you!" she squeaked, clinging to him.
"Hey, you're smothering me!" Plagg complained, but he sounded pleased. "It's too warm to be carrying on like-"
"I knew this weather would be bad for you!" Tikki declared, clutching at him again. She backed off to look him over appraisingly. "How have you been? It's been so hot lately, I was so worried that you'd-"
"I almost was," Plagg admitted with a purr, obviously lapping up the attention. "But my kid took good care of me." He nodded vaguely in Adrien's direction; the boy tried to recall if this was the first time Plagg had ever actually complimented him. If so, he definitely wanted Tikki around more often. "Master Fu fixed me up no problem," Plagg went on, "and I-"
"Master Fu...?"
Adrien and both kwamis all turned to look at Marinette, who had repeated Plagg's words in a dazed-sounding voice. As Adrien watched, those blue eyes, which had been dimmed by shock, slowly rekindled their spark. Her gaze focused on him.
"That's how you got the book," she said. It was a statement, not a question. There was a Ladybug-like assurance to her that had him kicking himself for not recognizing her before now. He made himself focus on her words instead of the fact that she was so obviously his Lady, that he had seen her every day in class, yet never even realized-!
"You know Master Fu?" he asked. He felt like he shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore; this day was fast becoming downright bizarre, in a very good way.
She nodded. "Yes. Tikki - my kwami - got sick during the bad weather last month. Right when Princess Fragrance was-"
Adrien's mind raced back almost a month. "So that's why you were-"
A lot of things about that battle still weren't clear to him. According to Plagg's report afterwards, he'd been possessed by the akuma (again) and Ladybug had had to save him, to his utter mortification. But he didn't remember seeing her at all during that incident; she hadn't turned up like she normally did-
"Yeah," Marinette said. She squirmed uncomfortably at some memory - of what he had no idea, wasn't sure he wanted to know - and suddenly morphed from Ladybug back into Marinette. The swift transition fascinated him - did he also switch in and out of Chat Noir mode like that? "I had to take Tikki to Master Fu and get her healed before I could transform," she explained. She petted the kwami, who snuggled affectionately against her palm in response. "So you had to do the same with... er, Plagg?"
"Yeah." Adrien grabbed hold of the kwami's tail to stop him from ducking back inside his bag to eat cheese. At long last, he and his Lady were having a proper conversation; Plagg would stay and be sociable, even if he had to pinch him by the ear to keep him there. "So he did the same for you and... Tikki?" he asked, eyes going to the adorable little red sprite, who smiled a thanks up at him for the acknowledgement. "He did that weird ritual with the-"
"-the gong?" Marinette finished for him, a smirk once again on her lips.
Adrien was pretty sure his Cheshire-cat grin exceeded the sides of his face. It was so good to be able to talk about these things with someone who understood, who was in the same situation, to actually speak properly with her at long last-
Marinette chuckled. "I thought it was just for show, but it seems to actually work! He wouldn't tell me how though, which is a shame, because I'd love to learn. He wouldn't tell me a lot of things, actually," she added, with an exasperated huff. "I didn't even know at the time that he was the Grand Guardian, and he-"
"He's what?!" Adrien yelped, jolted out of his starry-eyed ardour by her words.
"Yeah, he's the one who chose us and gave us our..." Marinette began to say, then stopped. "You didn't know?"
"No, he-" Adrien turned on his kwami, who he still held by the tail. Plagg very much looked like he wanted to phase out of his grip, but didn't quite dare. "You didn't tell me that!"
"It wasn't relevant," Plagg argued, in a whinging tone that sounded in no way remorseful. "I was sick, I thought I was your primary concern, not some Miraculous-holder with a courtesy title who just happens to-"
"He's a Miraculous wielder?!"
Tikki shook her head, a wry smile on her tiny face. "You haven't changed a bit, Plagg," she said, with a meaningful sigh.
Marinette giggled. "Someone neglected to tell me that as well - though circumstances may excuse her." She shot her kwami a teasing look. "Speaking of which, uh... A-Adrien, I have to tell you..."
Adrien had been engaged in a tug-o-war with Plagg over the cooler-bag. At her words he looked up, letting Plagg dart for cover inside his cheese-filled sanctuary.
"What is it?" he asked. Whatever it was, it must be important - her eyes were downcast, and she shuffled her feet nervously.
"I have to apologize," she said, biting her lip as she eyed him warily. He wanted to say that he could never be mad at her - not when she made that kind of face at him - but decided he'd better hear her out first. "I'm sorry, I... er, I k-kind of stole that book from you..."
That hadn't been at all what he was expecting; it took him a moment to get his head around what she had just said.
"Stole?" He repeated. He pulled the book out of his bag, looking at it carefully. "So this is my...?" He stared at it, looking for some point of recognition. Had the corner of his father's copy been as dog-eared as that? He honestly couldn't remember... but if it had, it meant that-
"Not because I really wanted to," she hastily added, with a frantic gesture of her hands which was so Marinette. "Um, technically, Lila stole it first, and-"
"Lila did-!" Adrien's mind was reeling. He was starting to wonder if this whole incident was one big joke; perhaps Papillion had created an akuma that liked to trick people with very plausible, convoluted pranks...
"Um, yeah." Marinette fiddled nervously with her sleeve. "I, uh, saw you in the library with her, looking at the book. After she claimed to you that she was Volpina, she managed to sneak it out of your bag. I think she took it so she could go get a store-bought necklace that looked like the fox-Miraculous. When you went to meet her in the park, she had to hide it from you, so she, um... she dumped it in the trash-"
"The trash-!" Adrien echoed her yet again, more out of instinct than anything else. He was just about done being surprised, what with everything else he had just learned.
Marinette dug at the gap between two paving-stones with her toes. "I saw her do it and rescued it from the trash can. I wanted to give it back to you but, uh..."
"That was my fault." Tikki floated up to hover in front of Adrien face, rubbing her paws together apologetically. "Marinette wanted to return the book to you, but I thought it was a higher priority to take it to Master Fu. As the Grand Guardian, he is the rightful owner of the book. It went missing from his care a long time ago, and it was imperative that he should have it back. Marinette didn't want to do it - she knew you would miss it - but I convinced her, and... I'm really sorry, Adrien."
Her antennae drooped adorably. Adrien couldn't help but smile, even though he still felt like he'd been duped. "That's okay, Tikki," he said, gently patting the kwami's head, much the same way he would sometimes ruffle Plagg's ears. "I understand why you did it, and I'm kind of glad you did." Tikki, looking relieved, floated back to Marinette's side. "It's just..." Adrien paused, heaving a sigh. "I can't believe all of this went on without me noticing!"
A dark chuckle issued from the opening of the cooler-bag. "You're even more clueless than I thought," Plagg drawled maliciously from within.
Adrien frowned down at him. "You were there too, and you were just as clueless - or did you keep all this from me? If you did, I don't think you deserve that expensive cheese I just-"
Plagg whipped into view, looking outraged. "Hey, as if I pay that much attention to everything you do! I have better things t-"
"Plagg is only alert where cheese is involved," Tikki stated, with a knowing smile.
"Why shouldn't I be? It's only the greatest, tastiest, most delic-"
"Yeah, yeah, we know," Adrien muttered, poking Plagg's head back inside the bag. He turned to Marinette, who had been watching all this with an amused look upon her face. "So, my Lady... what should we do now?"
She blinked at him in surprise - because he had called her by his pet-name for her, or because of his question, he wasn't sure. "I guess," she said, after a moment's consideration, "we should go and see Master Fu. There's a lot I still don't understand, and you probably have plenty of questions for him as well. We've been fighting akuma for some time now, without fully knowing what's been going on. I think we could do with a few answers from him."
He nodded. Trust her to come up with a perfect course of action, as always! "Good plan."
She looked at him carefully, as if she were making some sort of decision. "Before that, though," she said, somewhat haltingly, "we should, uh... probably talk, j-just the two of us." She took a deep breath. "I, um, wasn't expecting... I mean, I had no idea you- er, it's not bad or anything, though I'm probably not exactly what you- er, y-you must have expected someone more- that is, I guess I-" She stopped, rubbing her head. He realized that she must be just as amazed and bewildered by everything as he was. "We should... probably talk about it," she finished, giving him a tiny, uncertain smile.
He slowly nodded. "Yeah, you're right. This is all a pretty big surprise to me, too. N-not an unpleasant surprise or anything, just..." He suddenly smiled radiantly at her, taking it in: this was his Lady, it was her!
"I'm so glad to finally know... and to find out that it's you, Marinette. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather it to be."
He was rewarded for his words with the sight of her blushing furiously. He couldn't help but chuckle happily to himself, though he felt kind of bad for flustering her. Who would've thought that his brave, bold, brilliant Ladybug could stutter and flush just like Marinette? This day was full of surprises; and so far, none of them were bad in any way...
He took a step towards the bench, beckoning her to follow. "Have a seat, my Lady. I'd like to sort some things out before we go to see the Grand Guardian."
Still looking faintly flushed - and not just from the heat - she nodded in agreement, scurrying after him.
On occasion, Marinette had wondered just how much of Chat was his suit.
She knew she herself went through more than just a costume change when she transformed. She knew he must also be a bit different from his civilian self somehow, but... his suit-granted characteristics seemed a bit different from hers. Though she had taken the moniker of Ladybug and made it her own, she liked to think that she didn't have any insect-like tendencies whatsoever: she didn't have wings, didn't hang around in flower beds, was never even remotely tempted to snack on some juicy aphids (neither was Tikki, much to her relief). Whereas Chat... while she had never seen him try to catch a bird (for obvious reasons) or hiss at dogs (though it wouldn't really surprise her), he still seemed rather... chat-like. He wore a bell, occasionally ran on all-fours, often swiped at the air like a cat sharpening its claws, was infuriatingly needy and almost desperately affectionate whenever she was around-
Okay, she wasn't quite ready to consider the implications of that yet.
If you had asked her that morning if Adrien Agreste was in any way cat-like, she would have laughed. Or rambled about how he had a cat-like grace and feline majesty, a pair of bewitching emerald-green eyes that would put even the most regal moggie to shame...
But this kind of cat-like? Not in a million years.
She was beginning to understand why most cat-owners never bothered to take their pet for walks. Adrien might not be dressed as Chat Noir right now, but he was wearing a cat's capriciousness as if it were tailor-made for him. All the way to Master Fu's, he kept wandering away from her, ducking down alleyways, sauntering round corners, racing over to peer at shop displays. At one point, she turned to find him strolling down an adjacent street, following the soft strains of piano-music that drifted from an upstairs window. Really, if she could use her lucky charm right now to give her a collar and leash-
Nope, those were dangerous thoughts, back away quickly Marinette...
Pressing her clammy palms to her face in an attempt to cool down the heat of her blush, she jogged after him, seizing him by the back of his shirt.
"This way, Minou," she said, adopting a teasing manner to distract herself from the fact that she was very nearly touching Adrien Agreste. "If you keep wandering off like that, you'll get me lost, and I know these laneways like the back of my hand."
His unrepentant smile as he turned towards her threatened to immediately undo her exasperation, taking the strength in her knees with it. "Sorry," he said, with a sheepish grin. "I hadn't been to this part of town before this morning, and it looks so interesting, I just wanted to see t-" He suddenly stopped, smiled even more broadly, and pointed at a nearby shop-display with a laugh.
"Look, it's an old friend!" he chortled, pointing at a fox-fur stole that was draped over a steamer-trunk in the window of an antique store.
Marinette chuckled, though the sound was uneasy. Much as she had considered skinning Lila a few times during the Volpina incident, she wasn't exactly proud of her actions that day.
Adrien was obviously thinking about Volpina as well. "That's why you totally ripped into her like that!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, as if he had only just seen the light. "Wow, everything makes so much sense now!"
"Not quite everything," Marinette countered, looking shamefacedly down at the pavement. "You were right, Adrien, I was way too harsh on her. I'm so glad you were willing to call me out on it; I wish you'd done it before I had a chance to let fly. If I hadn't said those things to her, she might not h-"
"On the contrary," Adrien interjected, "if I'd known she stole my book, I would've agreed that she deserved everything you dished out to her."
This drew Marinette up short. She supposed he was only saying it to make her feel better about how childish she had been. Still...
"I stole your book as well," she pointed out, wondering if he was at all mad at her for sneaking around behind his back. If he ever found out that she had also taken his phone...
"You didn't really steal it," he said, giving her shoulder a consoling pat that threatened to make her already-treacherous knees buckle completely. "And neither did Tikki," he added, giving her purse a considerate look; it twitched slightly in reply. "I probably would've shown it to you anyway, if I'd had the chance to bring it to our next patrol. And I would've given it to Master Fu willingly, if I'd known what was going on. Besides, I already-"
He stopped abruptly, both his feet and his words. Marinette, who had started to walk on without him, hastily turned back, frowning at him in concern.
"What's wrong?" she asked. She knew him - both of him - enough to recognize that he was troubled by something. The expression he wore right now stabbed at her heart, even if she had no idea what was causing it.
"Huh?" He looked up at her in surprise, giving her a slow blink which was so very Chat-like, she kicked herself for not recognizing him sooner. To think she had adored him so completely, had known him so well both in and out of the mask, yet never noticed the similarities... some love-struck stalker she was...
Putting aside her rights to this dubious title for now, she said: "If you had cat-ears right now, they'd be drooping, Chaton. What's bothering you? You know you can tell me about it, if you want to..."
He looked at her as if she had just offered him the entire world. He hesitated, pursed his lips in a way that would have had women of all ages screaming in rapture, then lifted his gaze to hers. "I stole the book, too... from my... f-from my father..."
Marinette stared at him blankly. "From your father...?" she repeated. She was a fan of Gabriel Agreste, the designer - not so much Gabriel the father, but that was beside the point. Why on earth would her fashion idol have a book on Miraculous?
"Yeah. I looked in his office the morning of Volpina, and he had a wall-safe open that I didn't even know about, hidden behind a painting of- uh, and he keeping it in there. I caught a glimpse of the illustrations, and I didn't really want to take it behind his back, but Plagg-" the cooler-bag harrumphed at him, unimpressed by being saddled with the blame, even if it was wholly justified - "he opened the safe before I could stop him, so I just took it, and then it disappeared while I was at school. I guess I know now how that happened, but it still doesn't explain..."
He looked at her, a timid hopefulness in his gaze. It struck her then just how devoted he - her Chaton - was to her, how meekly he looked to her for answers, even in this.
"Why would he have it?" he asked, speaking to himself as much as her. "I've been asking myself over and over, and I still have no idea. You don't think he... that he could be involved in..."
"I don't think so," Marinette said, slowly. "Perhaps we could ask Master Fu? Unless you'd rather not mention it..."
Adrien sighed. "I don't know what to think. You saw how he was when we rescued him from Jackady. He wasn't exactly thrilled to meet us, so I doubt he's a fan like Alya is." Marinette couldn't help but giggle at the idea; Adrien smiled bravely at her.
"Perhaps," Marinette suggested, "he just likes it for the pictures? I mean, he designs clothes, and the book has illustrations of some pretty impressive costumes. Perhaps he just had it for inspiration?" She herself had a number of books like that; she always requested heaps of expensive art books as birthday and Christmas presents from her parents, knowing her allowance didn't stretch nearly far enough to fill her shelves as much as she'd like. "He might be about to launch a new Miraculous-inspired line - in which case, you'll be modelling the Chat Noir ensembles for sure."
He looked amused at the idea. "I reckon I would wear it well," he claimed, putting his hands on his hips and turning his head to best catch the slant of the afternoon sun in such an effortlessly-perfect model pose, Marinette had to remind herself to breathe normally.
"Just hope he doesn't assign you the peacock outfits," she said, putting as much breezy humour into her voice as she could with a heart that was still hammering wildly.
"Ha ha," he muttered, wincing at the thought. "The only other possibility," he went on, tapping his chin as he frowned in contemplation, "is that my father is actually... the real Volpina!"
There was a dramatic pause; then they both doubled up with laughter.
"I-I think the bee is more likely," Marinette gasped, clinging to a nearby lamppost for support as she blinked tears of laughter from her eyes. "Doesn't he wear that stripy tie?"
Adrien laughed just as long and loud as she did, to her immense relief; he leaned weakly against a nearby wall, clutching his sides. "I'm not sure if I can bee-lieve that theory!" he declared, with that familiar smirk she always saw on Chat Noir's face when he delivered a quip he was particularly proud of.
She chuckled, shaking her head to herself. Under normal circumstances, she would have just rolled her eyes and scoffed at such a terrible Chat-joke. But having it come from Adrien, and seeing how happy it made him...
It was a day of drastic change - and she much preferred things like this. If only she hadn't enforced that silly rule about not revealing their identities to anyone - they should have told each other who they were ages ago!
As they finally began making their way towards Master Fu's again, she couldn't shake a persistent worry from the back of her mind. Based on what Adrien had just told her, more people had seen the Miraculous book than she had realized: herself, him, Master Fu, Lila, and now Gabriel Agreste. Where the book had been before it had wound up in the latter's possession, they couldn't possibly tell - they could hardly just ask him where he had gotten it, not after Adrien had stolen it from him - but... what if other eyes had seen it besides those? What if...
What if Papillion had read it?
Marinette tried to push the thought aside, glancing at Adrien beside her. It wasn't too difficult, as she watched how the harsh sunlight turned the tips of his hair into a blazing aureole of gold; how the shadows falling across his face only deepened the mysterious green glint of his eyes. She also noticed that his hand clutched the strap of his satchel, inside which the Miraculous book safely resided; he had seldom let go of it since they had left the library.
She smiled to herself, trying to banish any doubts with a good dose of Ladybug-confidence. Whatever else had happened up til now, the knowledge in the book belonged to them. Whatever was coming, they would be best-equipped as they possibly could be, and they would face it together, with Master Fu to guide them.
They reached the familiar building and took the stairs up to the second floor. Marinette knocked on the door. She wasn't surprised when there was no answer; she reached for the doorknob anyway, though Adrien hung back.
"He's probably just meditating," she said, beckoning him forward. "He knows we're coming. I sent him a text saying that you would be with me, and to let him know that I didn't get the books he wanted from the library."
Adrien blinked at her, then smiled. As always, she was one step ahead of him - or at least, she was, until she reached out and took his hand, pulling him up alongside her. She pulled open the door, and they stepped into the room together.
Master Fu was sitting cross-legged at the centre of the mat, his eyes closed, head slightly bowed. They waited in silence until he opened his eyes, swept a glance over them, and smiled.
"Welcome back, Ladybug," he said, nodding in Marinette's direction. "I am sorry to impose upon your generosity by having you run my errands for me; I'm an old man, and you have so much more energy than I do. I'm afraid I will have to ask you to get those books for me next time you're at the library."
Marinette made no reply, only gave him a grin that was half rueful, half affectionate. His gaze switched to Adrien.
"And welcome to you, Chat Noir. It is good that we can finally meet - besides administering to your sick bird."
At his words, Plagg zipped out of Adrien's pocket; Tikki floated out of the purse to hover alongside him. They beamed at Fu like a pair of kids who had just come home from a successful first day at school, their paws linked between them.
Marinette glanced at Adrien and raised an eyebrow that eloquently asked: Bird?
Adrien grinned and shrugged, making a silent promise to explain it to her later. She already had a pretty good idea of what it meant; she would have to tell him the story of her own sick 'cat' as well.
Turning his attention solely on Master Fu, Adrien clasped his left hand over his right, giving the old man a low bow.
"It is an honour to see you again," he said, speaking in French for Marinette's sake. "I look forward to learning as much as I can from you, Sifu."
Author's note: holy fricking hell, how did this chapter end up so long?! The word-count isn't that much higher than the longest chapter preceding this, but somehow, my Word document ended up 26 pages long! I'm totally blaming it on Master Fu, I didn't really need to write Adrien's trip to the healer in as much detail as I did, but I was having way too much fun with it!
This story allowed me to indulge in the two of the most important aspects of who I am: Chinese and libraries. The majority of my immediate family either work or have worked at libraries; anyone who has read my long-format Miraculous fic, 'A Class Act', knows how much I enjoy writing about library-related things.
I've mentioned it elsewhere before, but Marinette's background is one of my favourite details of the show, for all it plays a very small role in the larger plot. I'm half-Chinese myself, and Marinette's depiction very realistically portrays what it's like to be mixed-race, caught between cultures with only a diluted understanding of where your heritage comes from - her pain at not knowing how to speak Chinese is my pain! I got to throw almost everything I knew about my culture in here: the classic novels, the bowing etiquette, getting to use the word 'sifu' as much as possible. I've actually really done what Adrien did and bought a book in simplified-Chinese when I was trying to order a novel to give my dad for his birthday - I didn't know that simplified-Chinese was a thing until then! I do know that the writing in the Miraculous book isn't remotely like simplified-Chinese (according to Miraculous Wikia, it's actually written in Nyctographic) but I took the liberty with it for the sake of this story, I hope no one minds.
Thanks GuardianAngel1234567 for suggesting this object, it was already on my list of possibilities, so I bumped it up my schedule. Before anyone asks, I'm afraid I don't really take suggestions otherwise. I've already started writing the next chapter, but after this unexpected epic, I'm in the mood for something short and sweet (if I can even manage that), so I might take a slight detour, I haven't decided yet. I keep coming up with ideas for new objects, so there are always plenty of options. Please stay tuned for whatever comes next! ~ W.J.