Chapter 1: New Old World

Paris, the City of Lights, one of the crown jewels of civilization. Its historical and artistic value could be seen in the architecture, the customs, the sights, the sounds, and most importantly, the people.

But among its beauty, there was one person, a disguised outsider, an undercovered impostor.

There was a boy, fourteen years of age, with sixteen other years of history to carry on his shoulders. His history. The history of his predecessors was much, much older.

And it ended with him.

The war ended with him.

A ghost of a touch on his shoulder broke the boy from his thoughts. He glanced at the wispy white Vestige beside him, taking care to not draw attention to his motions lest someone started to ask questions.

"What, First?" The whisper was so soft no one but the incorporeal figure could have possibly heard.

"You're doing it again." The First, the original holder, didn't have any reason to mind his volume. He was just a ghost, after all. "What's on your mind this time, Ninth?"

The boy looked aside, his green eyes catching his reflection on a store window.

Golden blond locks of messy hair (like his idol's), no longer green and curly. Creamy skin with no freckles in diamond formation like he was used to. A simple get-up of a black t-shirt, a green hoodie, gray slacks, but the shoes, oh the shoes. They were an eyesore of vivid red, making his low profile presence stand out, and not in a good way.

He didn't care, that was the only part of his old self he could cling to.

That, and the constant drumming of power that matched his heartbeat.

"Just asking myself how things get to this again." How it got to the point where he saw a stranger every time he looked into a mirror, no matter how many years passed.

The Vestige sighed, "We know it's my fault."

"It isn't."

"My quirk got you here."

"Your quirk gave me a shot at my dream."

"My quirk killed you."

"Your quirk let me save all their lives."

"At the cost of yours."

"A price I would pay again in a heartbeat."

"Knowing it would end with you here?"

The Ninth looked at the distant Eiffel Tower, noticing all the details that distinguished it from Tokyo Sky Tree. "Yes."

That was the honest truth. If at that moment Shigaraki was about to lay a hand on his head while he pushed all his power even further beyond to end it once and for all, if he had known…

Then he would have made sure he smiled while his fist smashed a way to peace.

A vindictive part of his mind rejoiced at the memory of that blight's body being atomized under his knuckles, the very same part that made him look into the mirror and ask himself what he was waiting for.

And to that bitter and jagged part of himself, Ninth recited a certain date. October 21st, 2032. The day the glowing baby was born in China.

If by some twisted turn of fate, he ended back before it all started, before any of it was even thought possible to transpire, then he would end it all.

Ninth would use the quirk entrusted to him, the power cultivated for two bloody centuries, to end the war before it could even begin.

He would destroy that miserable future with his own two hands.

If that didn't come to pass, and he was instead on an alternate earth where superheroes stayed forever inside the pages of comic books…then that was that.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. It was all he could do.

"That's not healthy, you know?"

Ninth almost snorted at First's words. Which part? The impostor syndrome? Survivor's guilt? Maybe the dissociation of himself with his new identity? Ha, he couldn't call himself by the name everybody referred to him in his own mind. Even by the old one, he didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore.

He was the Ninth. Nobody else.

"H-hey!" A new voice broke Ninth from his spiral and stopped First before he could start a tirade.

The duo looked back, even if only one of them was visible doing so. The person who called was a teenage girl, maybe a year older than Ninth's current body. Tanned skin, band shirt over a tank top, skirt over ripped jeans shorts, auburn hair pulled on a high knot.

Beside her was another teen, androgynous features and baggy clothes would make Ninth take an educated guess, but the pride flag pin on their denim jacket confirmed them as nonbinary. They had a light complexion, black hair pulled on a short ponytail, matching band shirts with the girl, and khakis a size too big being held by a silver buckled belt.

The girl walked closer, "Hey, you're Adrien Agreste, right?"

While Ninth had a very visceral reaction to being called by the name (it wasn't his, it would never be his, his name was gone), he externally opened a smile. A smile he saw on his idol's face millions of times. A smile that only said about how he wanted to help, how everything would be alright, how he was here now.

A smile that hid all the rest inside.

"Yeah, that's me. Can I help you two with anything?"

Their posture instantly relaxed, whatever tension they had while approaching him was gone when Ninth used his natural charisma (that was a cruel joke, universe) to pose himself as non-threatening.

He wouldn't hurt anyone (that didn't deserve it), but Ninth was under no delusions. He could break an armed hostile over his knee with only his training and experience as both a hero and vigilante, throw his quirk in the mix and Ninth would admit he was a danger that people should be wary of.

"Wow. Uh, sorry, it's just- ahem. We're fans." The girl motioned to her friend and herself exaggeratedly, clearly still nervous but now from her own excitement. "I really like your work, both modeling and all the communitarian stuff you do. 'Even helped on the fire department renovation, believe it or not."

That made Ninth's eyes soften, "Thank you for offering a hand for people who needed some help in a difficult time."

The girl yelped, not expecting the sincere praise, "It was nothing! I just heard you on that TV show promoting it and telling everybody how 'the world can't stand if its pillars crumble' and decided, what the heck? It was a fun Saturday, at the very least."

The teen, who finally mustered enough courage to speak, nodded at their friend's words. "Y-yeah. You're always going on about how we have to rise above our fears if we want to change the world we live in, and that's really inspiring, you know?" The duo traded a glance, one Ninth could see a whole conversation passing through. "That was why we decided to follow our dream and form a band, and… I know it's gonna sound cheap, but we have to be sure. Do you really mean all that?"

Huh, would you look at that? Seems like little, weak Deku isn't so useless after all. "You know, some time ago, I asked the person I always looked up to if I could achieve my dream. You know what he said?"

The girl gulped, "What?"

"He said no. That I should be realistic instead of chasing something impossible." Ninth saw their faces falling, so he quickly followed up, "And it just made it all the better when I proved him wrong."

At the two's wide eyes, Ninth chuckled. While he didn't resent All Might, never had and never would, Ninth was mature enough to admit the same little part of him that wasn't very nice (which was a polite way to say it desired to commit atrocities on the regular, maybe he did need therapy) got ecstatic at seeing the Symbol of Peace admit he was wrong about the quirkless boy and his dream.

"I won't say it won't be hard, or there won't be moments it won't seem impossible, but…" Ninth remembered the words that turned his whole world on its head, endured the stab of pain at the memory of a time that would never come back, and clenched his raised fist, "You can do it!"

My Deku now means 'you can do it!'

Ninth knew that making his fans cry would earn him an earful at his house (it wasn't home), but their happy smiles and sudden hugs full of heartfelt gratitude for supporting their dreams were worth all of it.

After parting ways with the duo of future musicians, having given them both autographs, funnily enough, Ninth went back on his track.

He managed barely two steps before cracking at the pressure of his predecessors' ghostly eyes on him, "What?"

"You're a hypocrite."

Ninth only rolled his eyes at Third's remark, "Yes, thank you for noticing."

Fifth barked a laugh at his retort, "Man, I love ya new snarky side, kid!"

This time, the eye roll was fonder. Ninth had developed some new personality traits since the old days, most of them a result of a then-developing mind trying to deal with all the trauma it was overloaded with. One such case was a dry, rude, and slightly morbid sense of humor that Ninth ended up enjoying, surprisingly enough.

"Seriously though, you should find some outlets for your pent-up stress that isn't overworking, or forcefully projecting."

"It's called empathy, Forth. It's a useful little thing that helps connect to people so I can help them to not get as fucked up as me." Uh oh, his inner Kacchan was showing. Ninth knew now was the time to cut unpleasant conversations short before he exploded at someone.

For both their and his bones' sakes.

Ninth took a deep breath and restarted his march. He ignored the Vestiges and checked his wristwatch (analogic, less chance of someone messing with it and Ninth could always rig a bomb if the need arrived). The little stop would end with him late.

Taking a deep breath, he bolted on a dead sprint, blitzing through the street. He couldn't outrun his personal peanut gallery, but they understood he wasn't in the mood and the clock was ticking, wisely backing off.

All of them but the Eighth.

"My boy, you know I am here for you. If there's anything you need to get off your chest-"

"I'm fine, All Might." Ninth cut the golden Vestige, not once looking the man in the eyes. He couldn't. Not without feeling that old churn of guilt and longing choking the air out of his lungs.

"You said that in Japanese."

Of course, he did. Ninth had to take a deep breath to drown the expletives that crawled up his throat, for all the good it did. "I'm fine, All Might." He said in proper French, even if each word tasted like ashes and memories of a friend who was puppeteered by a monster.

There was no answer. Ninth risked a glance over his shoulder and confirmed he was alone on the street.

Good, now he could focus on finding where he should be going.

Collège Françoise Dupont. A school focused on artistic, physical, and intellectual pursuits. One that Ninth would need to waste his time attending from now on.

There was no hero course. No combat training. No rescue simulations. No first aid and triage capacitation. No nothing. Ninth had no way of further developing his skills, actually valuable skills, in that place. Even then, he would be forced to waste most of his day inside it.

Ninth knew Natalie's heart was in the right place, but bloody hell, she could have put the effort to achieve something more significant than convincing the Agreste patriarch to send Ninth to public school.

Ah, at least he could use the refresh for the subjects. Ninth had to be on par with everything if he wished to keep appearances of being a gifted child who simply developed faster instead of having mostly consistent knowledge from receiving an education two centuries in the future. Getting caught knowing an important historical event before it happened wasn't a pleasant experience.

Enough tangents. Ninth let the distractions created by his own mind go on for too long, and while he was calmer, he still needed to reach class on time.

Checking a map he kept hidden in an inner pocket of his hoodie (less up-to-date information, but it was more reliable than something digital that could be tampered with without his notice), Ninth saw he was only a block away. Bringing his eyes forward, he saw the sprawling building with the same vein of modern architecture that still fit with older nearby constructions most of Paris went for these days.

It wasn't as big as U.A.'s main building, much less the whole campus, but it was still a decently sized place. Ninth would need to scout it and mark all the access points, chokeholds, and defensive positions.

Well, a task for later. Ninth began to slow down so he could climb the stairs (he already could see the place lacked accessibility measures, something he would also need to look into), steady his breath, and look for his class.

Unfortunately, another hurrying student didn't have the same idea.

The collision only happened thanks to the absolute lack of Danger Sense's usual warning. The absence of a sharp stab of pain through his brain which usually indicated imminent danger threw Ninth off his game for a fraction of a second. That interval was enough for a body to crash into him.

Adrenaline and instincts kicked in at that moment. Ninth felt the world slow down as he took in the details while his body moved on its own (another part of him that was thankfully still the same).

Girl. Approximately his physical age. Blue eyes, wide in surprise and panic. Blue hair, tied in pigtails. Fair skin. Freckles (of course). White shirt. Black jacket, no signs of concealed weapons. Pink pants, tight, no space to hide anything that could pose a threat. Running shoes, size consistent with her height (she was very short), improbable to be used to stash anything dangerous. Small shoulder bag, a possible liability, but zipped so in the worst case he could secure it.

While the threat assessment happened, his body moved quickly to catch the girl before she could fall. She was smaller and lighter than him, which made the girl all but rebound from impacting Ninth.

Holding her by the arms, to both steady her and be able to contain the girl if needed, Ninth pulled her up and settled the girl on her feet. "You okay? Are you hurt?" Low voice, short and concise sentences, eye contact, smile. Ninth was dealing with a civilian in need of help until proven otherwise.

"W-wha- Yes! Yes, I'm okay." The girl was staring at him, cheeks flushed, from running or embarrassment, he didn't know. "S-sorry. I'm late, and I didn't see you! I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Ninth let her go slowly now that the girl was standing on her own. He still kept his hands slightly raised to counterattack at the first suspicious movement. "You hurt yourself running into me more than the other way around. Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded quickly, "Yeah! I'm kinda clumsy, crashing into stuff all the time is normal for me." She let out a strained laugh. "Sorry again, but I'm late for class!"

Well, Ninth could work with that. "Do you study at Françoise Dupont? I just got enrolled there and needed some help finding my classroom."

"Oh! Uh, are you in Mademoiselle Bustier's class?"

"Yes."

"You're in my class then!" The girl smiled at him for a second before hastily turning away. "I'll guide you there."

"Thank you." Ninth fell in step with the girl, having to catch her again when she stumbled on one of the steps, much to her embarrassment. He didn't comment on it, instead focusing on mustering the courage to suck it up and introduce himself.

He got a little (a whole lot) ruder since finding himself in that situation, but Ninth still had a bottom line. "By the way, my name is Adrien Agreste. What's yours?"

The girl did a little hop to accompany her yelp, and Ninth had to catch her a third time (she was indeed clumsy). "Thanks. I'm Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Chinese descendance? Not something you see every day. Even then, another small part of Ninth, the one that caused him to be painfully aware of how alone he felt, specifically in crowds, cheered at having met someone even tangentially Asian.

Being born French didn't change the fact he was also born Japanese.

"Nice to meet you, Marinette."

"Would you look at that? He made a friend." A teasing and extremely familiar voice called out, making Ninth roll his eyes on instinct. "It's a miracle!"

Ninth shot a flat stare at the approaching girl. She was almost as tall as him, also blonde hair pulled on a ponytail, but her eyes were bright blue. Her tan had gotten a shade darker since the last time he saw her, probably from spending too long in the sun. What didn't change was the zip-up hoodie, yellow with black accents, and a smiley on the left breast which Ninth had gotten her years ago and she never stopped wearing. The thing must have gotten resized at least ten times by now. Her faded white pants matched her shoes, those being just work clothes she wasn't afraid of getting dirty. To top it all off was a pair of sunglasses on her forehead.

"Nice to see you too, Chloe."

"Wait, you know each other?" Marinette looked from Ninth to the newly arrived Chloe, eyes wide.

Before Ninth could answer, the other girl jumped in, "He's my dad." He gave Chloe another flat stare. "I'm joking. He's my older brother."

"Chloe." Each completely done sigh he let out made Ninth understand his old homeroom teacher a little more. Damn Problem Children.

Going right past him, Chloe linked her arm with Marinette's, probably to help the girl not stumble on her own feet again. "I'm being serious, mostly. This grumpy cat had been looking out for me since I can remember."

Sensei, know your student is very sorry for all the headaches he gave you. Ninth just wouldn't apologize for the broken bones because…well, he had a good reason for those. Mostly.

Marinette blinked, twice, three times, "Okay, I'll need some more context."

"We're on the clock." Ninth's reminder got them moving, but he knew trying to stop Chloe from gossiping was a fool's errand.

Chloe, half walking along, half carrying Marinette, pounced at the chance of poking fun at Ninth. "Okay, so, remember when we were nine and I showed up in class with this?" She pulled at the hoodie to indicate what she was talking about.

"Yeah. I never saw you without it since then. And you asked me to refit and repair it a bunch of times." So Marinette was the one to do it. Huh, what a small world.

"Yeah. Azzy got it for me when I disowned my mother." Chloe spat the last word as if it was a sarcastic insult, which for her, it pretty much was.

"What?!"

"Yup." She popped the 'p' with too much cheer, adjusting her sunglasses casually in a nervous tick which Ninth saw her develop but never called her out on. "You know my father isn't the most present person, being the mayor and whatnot. Beyond that, he is too soft to really educate a child. Cue Azzy!" She gestured energetically at Ninth, who was too busy looking around and counting all possible escape routes. "Since our families, and I exclude my mother from that, were close they decided to arrange 'playdates' for us." Chloe gave a very unladylike snort at that.

Marinette gave her a confused head tilt, "I could practically hear the air quotes. What's the matter?" She shot Ninth a glance he pretended not to notice.

"Azzy decided to be too mature for that and instead became my role model for life. That pretty much is the reason I adopted him as my older brother, and only because calling him dad non-ironically is creepy." Chloe laughed at his deadpan, enjoying it way too much. She held Marinette up while he stumbled for the fourth time in as many minutes, "He was the one to show me what it meant to be a good person and helped me with all the rich kids' problems I had to deal with. Like, you know, crippling loneliness, fake people trying to use me, attempted kidnappings."

Marinette would end up kissing the floor if she kept losing her footing every two steps. "What?! Why haven't you told me about that?! Or the other things?! Are you okay?!"

"Blame Azzy too. He taught me how to be paranoid."

Ninth had to speak up at that, "It isn't paranoia if they're really out to get you."

"It is when you know how to rig a bomb and sleep with the components under your pillow."

"That's called being prepared."

"That's called domestic terrorism."

"That's called none of your business."

"A great man once said, 'Sticking your nose in other people's business is what being a hero is all about.'"

"I will only agree with you because I'm not the one who originally said that."

"Take the damn compliment!"

"Make me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"No. It's a threat."

Marinette watched the back and forth as if it was a tennis match. Turning from one blond to the other and back in quick succession almost made her dizzy, but it left it pretty clear, "Okay, I can see the semblance now."

"I told her there were better character traits to emulate, but she decided that my dumpster fire of a personality was the way to go." Ninth let the particularly scalding remark against himself slip, earning an attempted slap on the back of the head from Chloe he promptly dodged.

The girl glared at him with steely eyes and a set jaw, "No one can insult my sorta brother, including you. Am I clear?"

"You show him, girl!"

Ninth ignored Seventh's remark in his head with practiced ease, just nodding at Chloe to de-escalate the situation. By the way that her frown deepened, she wasn't convinced.

Choosing another topic to try changing the subject, Ninth motioned to the girls' linked arms. "You two are friends?"

Marinette, the lifesaver, hastily nodded and answered, "Yes! Chloe and I have been in the same class since kindergarten." She gave him a meaningful look, one that Ninth felt deep in his bones he didn't deserve. He never would deserve any admiration. "I saw how she changed over the years and always asked myself what caused it. I guess I have to thank you."

"I didn't do anything. Chloe's growth is her own merit and no one else's."

Chloe growled at Ninth, "Take the damn compliment."

"No."

Marinette gave a forced laugh, breaking them from their bickering before it could start. "We're here." She motioned to the door they just reached.

Ninth took the chance to hit the emergency eject button from that conversation, dipping inside the classroom and zeroing in on the first empty spot he saw.

The place was structured in an auditorium format, with the back rows being higher than the front ones, so taking a back seat would give a better field of view but would delay his time of response to threats if they came from the door. While the high windows were another access point in case of an invasion, the door was still the statistically most probable point of entry.

No, he wasn't fucking paranoid. Ninth took to the middle second row, where he could react to anything happening inside the room the quickest.

The spot would seat two people, one of which was already occupied by someone. Ninth put his people smile back on and approached the boy. "Excuse me. Is this spot already taken?"

The boy turned to him. Darker skin, red cap over short black hair, orange headphones, square glasses not hiding maroon eyes. Blue shirt and jeans, he could see the phone case peeking out of the pocket. The bag by his side was open, Ninth being able to spy on the contents and only seeing school materials. Most importantly, the boy had an approachable air that told Ninth that he wouldn't take offense of…Ninth's usual way of being (he was a fucking train wreck).

"No, dude. It's all yours." He gave a (natural) inviting smile, "'You new?"

"Yes. First day at this school."

"Cool. Nino Lahiffe." He offered a fist. "Nice to meetcha."

Ninth pumped fists with the boy to give himself a moment to prepare himself to speak the dreadful name he was trapped with (it never got any easier to say it), "Likewise. I'm Adrien Agreste, I hope we can get along."

"Two friends in a day, maybe it really is a miracle!" Chloe took the shot at him while climbing to her seat, which was directly behind him.

"Chloe, don't be mean." Marinette, whose seat was directly in front of Ninth, tried to reign her friend in. To no avail.

Before any more words could be traded, the teacher walked in with a book and a folder in hands. The woman was taller than Ninth, with orange hair and soft blue eyes, along with her professional but still somewhat casual outfit, making her a lot less strict-looking than his last homeroom teacher.

Let's see how long it would take for her to start hating him too.

"Oh, I see your new classmate is already here. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

That day was just going great, wasn't it?

—

Marinette was freaking out, a little (a lot). She quickly positioned her phone and started to text her girl friends' group.

SmolMenace: Guys!

SmolMenace: First. Who changed my name again?

SmolMenace changed her name to Marinette

SmileyBitch changed Marinette's name to SmolMenace

SmileyBitch: Take the L!

FashionPolice: You know Chloe won't stop, just accept it.

SmolMenace: Sabrina, can you please control your gremlin?

Marinette shot the auburn-haired girl two rolls up a pleading glance. Sabrina's only answer was to adjust her glasses, fold her blue sweater sleeves up, and jab an elbow on Chloe's side.

The blonde didn't vocalize her reaction, but she did shoot both girls dirty looks.

SmileyBitch: I'm gonna get back at you two later.

SmileyBitch: When you least expect it.

ScoopDoo: Looks like my first front-page article will be a murder case.

Marinette shot Alya with a very unimpressed look. The girl's brown eyes twinkled with mischief, which was the only warning Marinette got before her friend, taking advantage of sitting right beside her, flicked her long brown-to-orange hair at Marinette.

She closed her eyes in time but still got a faceful of hair. As revenge, she reached out as if to pinch Alya's bronze-skinned cheek, only to alter course and pull her glasses down her nose. While Alya rolled her eyes and pushed her glasses up, Marinette finished her retribution by flicking the collar of her orange and pastel checkered button shirt up.

With her friend sufficiently annoyed, Marinette went back to shooting texts while noting down the teacher's words.

SmolMenace: Back on topic.

SmolMenace: Second. Chloe, we are gonna talk more about those "rich kids' problems" you mentioned.

SmileyBitch: There's not much to talk about.

SmolMenace: You got kidnapped!

ScoopDoo: Wait what?!

SmileyBitch: ATTEMPTED kidnapped.

FashionPolice: So the subject finally came up?

SmileyBitch: Blame Azzy.

ScoopDoo: The new kid tried to kidnap you?!

SmileyBitch: Of course not!

SmileyBitch: He just took down the four armed men who tried.

SmileyBitch: Because he's extra like that.

FashionPolice: Wait a second.

FashionPolice: You didn't say they were armed.

SmolMenace: Chloe.

SmolMenace: I'm hugging the crap out of you.

SmileyBitch: I'm terrified.

SmileyBitch: Anyway.

SmileyBitch: Everything is fine. Azzy was there.

ScoopDoo: You say that as if he's some superhero.

FashionPolice: If you're not aware, Alya. Adrien has a self-defense program he funds and sometimes teaches.

SmileyBitch: He's a black belt in at least three different martial arts.

FashionPolice: And he's a tough bastard.

SmolMenace: Sabrina!

SmileyBitch: No, she's right.

SmileyBitch: Azzy is built like a shit brick house and he both can and will kick your ass given a reason.

SmolMenace: He seems nice!

Marinette blushed while sending a follow-up message.

SmolMenace: But I understand the first part.

SmolMenace: When I crashed into him at the school gate it felt like I had run into a wall.

SmileyBitch: WTF?!

ScoopDoo: The crash part was literal?

FashionPolice: How did you manage that?!

SmolMenace: Why are you guys so surprised? I always crash into people.

SmileyBitch: Sweetheart.

SmileyBitch: Listen.

SmileyBitch: I spent five years thinking that Azzy had eyes on the back of his head.

SmileyBitch: And I'm still not convinced he hasn't.

SmileyBitch: You don't get Azzy by surprise. Ever.

FashionPolice: One time he was sparing against us after a self-defense class, both at the same time, and we couldn't even touch him unless he let us.

FashionPolice: There was a moment when Adrien had his back to me to focus on Chloe. I tried to sneak a hit in.

FashionPolice: That asshole backflipped over me, put me in a stranglehold, then threw me at Chloe.

FashionPolice: Nice catch, BTW.

SmileyBitch: Thanks.

ScoopDoo: If Sabrina is swearing that much, you aren't joking.

SmileyBitch: We aren't.

SmileyBitch: Which only makes it even more absurd Marinette's clumsiness somehow negated Azzy's Azzyness.

SmileyBitch: Girl, I think you're the only person on this green Earth that got him.

SmolMenace: You're exaggerating.

SmileyBitch: I'm really not.

FashionPolice: She's really not.

ScoopDoo: You two aren't making too much of a big deal out of this guy?

FashionPolice: I wish.

SmileyBitch: Azzy's resume is too bloated with him working himself to death trying to better the world for him to be a footnote.

Marinette's eyes widened. She finally recognized the name, face, and general person she had been talking to and about that whole day.

SmolMenace: He's that Adrien Agreste, isn't he?

SmileyBitch: I'm pretty sure there's only one Adrien Agreste.

SmolMenace: Yes. The model, turned philanthropist, turned vocal advisor for a dozen societal reforms, turned celebrity in general?

ScoopDoo: Okay, WTF?

ScoopDoo: How's this guy this important and I didn't hear of him?

SmileyBitch: He hates attention.

SmileyBitch: I also blame him for me hating attention.

FashionPolice: In this house, we blame Agreste.

FashionPolice: But yeah. He tries to change all people's focus on what he's talking about/doing rather than the fact he is the one doing it.

ScoopDoo: That does sound like Chloe.

SmolMenace: And if you want an example. Remember the parade for gender equality that happened last month?

ScoopDoo: Yeah, it was all over the news.

ScoopDoo: He started it, didn't he?

SmileyBitch: He personally went to my dad's office to say it was happening, no matter what anyone said.

FashionPolice: And that's 'threaten the mayor' crossed out of the bingo.

FashionPolice: I'm only missing 'going through with the domestic terrorism' now.

SmolMenace: That talk about bombs was true?!

SmileyBitch: Who do you think taught me how to make bombs?

ScoopDoo: Sabrina, aren't you supposed to be the responsible one?

FashionPolice: My dad is a cop, that doesn't mean I have to police you gremlins.

SmileyBitch: Azzy also bribed her with lessons to help her get an early start to prepare for the police academy.

SmolMenace: I am very conflicted.

Marinette risked a glance over her shoulder, seeing Adrien writing in his notebook blazingly fast. He had a hand over his mouth, but she could still hear his soft mutters.

He didn't look like…anything Sabrina and Chloe said. Looking into his misleadingly bright green eyes, Marinette didn't see a person greater than life, or someone forceful to get what they wanted. She saw…someone sad. Sad and tired.

Maybe Adrien just needed a person to talk to and…drop the masks.

—

Ninth needed to get out of that place and go back to deal with the truly important problems he had, such as training for fighting in the possible collapse of society. And preparing to maybe commit murder.

He had a busy schedule for the next few decades.

When the bell finished ringing, Ninth was already halfway out of the school, pointedly ignoring the few students already out of their classrooms and rushing for the exit.

"Adrien wait!"

You gotta be fucking kidding- "What?"

The shorter girl stopped just before him when Ninth finished turning, freezing like a deer in headlights. Seeing her wide eyes, the faintest trace of fear in them, Ninth forcefully strangled his annoyance back. She was an innocent civilian who had no fault for his bad mood, Ninth owed her more care than that.

"I'm sorry. What can I help you with, Marinette?"

The girl instantly relaxed her wound-up posture. Still, her eyes were locked with his (she couldn't possibly see it, could she?).

"U-uh, I-!" Marinette coughed to try to make her voice stop breaking. "I just wanted to say…"

Ninth saw she had lost her courage to say whatever was originally in her mind. Softly sighing, he nodded in encouragement to see if she could push through, "Yes?"

"It's- uh, my parents own the bakery across the street. Feel free to drop by, i-if you want to of course!" That wasn't what the girl wanted to say at first, but if she dropped whatever idea it was, Ninth wasn't about to poke around for it.

"Sure. Now if you excuse me."

Just as Ninth turned, a familiar poke on the mind from Danger Sense made him tilt aside, letting Chloe's arm pass by him uselessly.

"See? Eyes on the back of the head." The blonde scoffed, trying again but having the same results. "Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous."

"The only ridiculous thing is how delayed I got from getting out of this place." Ninth's muttered retort was drowned by him throwing the front doors open wider.

He took in a deep breath of fresh air, then cursed. Danger Sense flared.

Civilian. Elderly. In the middle of crossing the street, with a truck fast approaching. The man wouldn't make it in time.

Whatever hope Ninth had to quickly crack the math to see if he was going to need a boost to deal with the situation went out the window when Marinette took off running.

Thankfully, she reached the elderly man on time. Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to pull him out of the way and get clear quickly enough.

Well, Plus Ultra. A single percentage of power, raw and overwhelming power, shot through Ninth's veins. The glow was almost impossible to notice in the afternoon sun, minuscule green arcs of lightning lost against the color of his hoodie.

Even then, that single fraction of almighty strength (pun very much intended) let Ninth cross the distance quicker than a blink. He grabbed Marinette and the elderly man without breaking stride and skidded to a stop on the safety of the sidewalk.

"Are you two okay?" Ninth asked calmly, just like he was trained for. The power flowing through him receded before anyone could notice, once more falling dormant.

"Yes. Thanks to the both of you." Something about the way the man said that reminded Ninth of another short old man, one who really liked taiyaki and beating up teenage hero wannabes.

"Only doing my job, sir." Ninth risked a glance back, seeing the truck driver had stopped and was coming at them looking very shaken.

Oh well, a hero's duty never ends.

—

Marinette all but collapsed on her desk chair. That day was simply too much. Way too much.

She slept through her alarm, again. Then she ran right into a celebrity. Then she discovered her childhood friend had a much rougher life than anyone thought. Then she decided to be a considerate person and ran after (at least not into) the celebrity she met to try asking if he…was fine? Urgh, Marinette should have thought things through. Then, oh god, she almost died.

Marinette didn't know how Adrien had moved so fast, but thanks to him she wasn't a pancake now. Not only that, but the old man who put her on the spot in the first place and the truck driver were also perfectly unscathed.

The only bad thing to come out of all that mess was the earful Marinette got from her parents. And even that was downscaled to stern but loving words after Adrien took the blame for it.

Her cheeks warmed at the memory. The boy walked to her parents and spoke truthfully, no sign of the practiced smile Marinette saw him put up to everyone, bar Chloe and Sabrina.

"It's not her fault, her legs moved on her own, right?" Adrien had asked her, understanding clear in his bright eyes (were they brighter? Must have been the light). "If she hadn't moved first then I would. If you want to blame someone, blame me."

That was the only part Marinette had a problem with. She could just see in Adrien's posture how he kinda…expected it all to be his fault?

Ah, if at least Marinette hadn't chickened out, maybe she could have offered to listen to whatever was weighing on him.

The girl let out a defeated sigh and started to fish for her homework, hopefully, it would get her mind out of things.

"What?" Marinette blinked at the ornate box inside her bag. That wasn't hers, did she misplace it with something from one of her friends? She pulled out the box, a hand-sized octagonal thing, black with golden accents. Some kind of jewel box?

Well, it didn't have any name on it, so Marinette had no option but to look inside and see if she recognized whatever it was so she could return it.

Just as she was about to open the box, a strange feeling hit her, as if Marinette should think better about what she was about to do. Unfortunately, her clumsiness attacked again and the box almost slipped from her hold.

While Marinette caught it in time, she also popped the lid open.

A red flash blinded her for a second. When the spots faded from her vision, a red and black… Marinette wasn't sure what to call it. It was like a chibi-style doll with a ladybug theme and brilliant blue eyes.

The only problem was that those eyes moved to look at her, the thing was floating in the air, and it spoke.

"Hi, Marinette!"

Before she could (understandably) start screaming, the thing flew at her and put one of its tiny hands(?) over her mouth, somehow shutting Marinette up.

"Shhhhh. No screaming. I'm gonna explain, but I need you to listen, okay? Everything will be alright."

Marinette felt herself nodding against her better judgment. What was she doing?

The thing floated back and smiled proudly at Marinette, "Let me start from the beginning. I'm Tikki, the Kwami of Creation." She gave a formal dame bow that looked adorable from such a small thing. "I know what you're gonna ask. Kwamis are embodiments of the concepts that make up the world, like the gods you humans venerated once upon a time. No, no need to grovel, or freak out."

Good to know, but Marinette's sudden fear of getting smited didn't fade.

"Next question I know you're thinking." Was Tikki reading her mind?! "No, I'm not reading your mind, your face is just very expressive." Ah, there was that too. "And I am here because you got chosen, Marinette."

"Chosen for what?"

The Kwami flew down back to the box, gesturing to the pair of earrings safely resting inside, "These are the Ladybug Miraculous. They were made long, long ago with ancient magics you can't even dream of. The Miraculous is capable of attuning both holder and Kwami, letting a human wield great power." Tikki smiled at Marinette with those brilliant eyes again, "And you now will be the one to carry this power."

"What?! Why me? I don't want to be a-, a superhero or something." Marinette barely could walk to school, which was literally across the street, without stumbling on her own legs! There was no way she could 'wield great power' or whatever the heck Tikki was expecting of her!

"I know." Tikki's face softened, getting an almost melancholic quality, "I know, but even then, I have to ask you to be one."

"Why?" If Marinette's sob of a question was any indication, she wasn't cut for it.

"Because one of mine got taken away," Tikki admitted, crestfallen, and Marinette had the urge to hug the Kwami to try comforting her. "He got taken away decades ago, taken from us… I don't want to put this burden on you, but I know you're the only one who can bring him back. You and your partner."

"Partner?"

"Yes. Don't worry, you won't be going through this alone. My little fleabag was given to someone who will help you through this, and from how excited he was, I'm sure your partner will be great!"

—

"Fuck." Ninth once more felt his inner Kacchan pushing him to explode something, or someone, in an act of rage.

That old bastard had somehow sneaked a box into his hoodie's pocket while Ninth wasn't looking. The man bypassed Danger Sense, his natural alertness, and planted whatever the box was without Ninth realizing until he was back in his room.

He was getting rusty if something like that happened right under his nose.

"Relax~! It's just a tiny box." Seventh's wispy Vestige floated by Ninth, a grin on her face, "Maybe it's a gift from saving that guy's life. Oh! I bet it's cookies."

"If that was it, that man wouldn't have sneaked it into my pocket," Ninth growled, putting the box carefully on the center table while making sure it wasn't jolted. The damn thing could be an explosive for all he knew, or maybe a chemical weapon.

Ninth knew how bad people didn't care about the Geneva Convention, but again, war crimes were only crimes if you lost the war.

He forcefully stopped to recenter himself at the thought. That was something that monster would say, and Ninth would smash his own skull in before he became anything like him.

Now calmer, he fished inside his closet for the meat hook he attached to a PVC pipe specifically for cases like that, finding it just over his stash of gasoline canisters.

"How did you get all that again?" Fourth asked with a raised eyebrow. The gesture pulled at the jagged crack-like marks on his face.

"You know very well how." Ninth went right through the Vestige and positioned himself behind the couch facing the table. "Are you guys still going to goof around, or can we deal with this?"

First gestured at their ghostly forms, "You say that like we're much help."

"You all can look at what's in the box without fear of getting killed." Ninth supported the pipe on the couch's backrest and lined up the hook. "Just tell me if something weird happens."

"Weirder than a bunch of ghosts haunting you?"

"Yes." Ninth chopped his palm down at the tip of the pipe, the lever movement making the hook flip the box lid off. He instantly dropped behind the couch to hide, getting ready to make an escape at a moment's notice.

A second passed, then two, three, five, ten, "See something weird?" He asked the Vestiges.

The voice that answered him didn't belong to any of them, "Depends. Does a kid hiding behind a couch with a homemade harpoon count?"

Ninth's body burst with viridian lighting. Within a fraction of a second, he moved across the whole room and away from the couch.

No. No, no, no nonononono. It was too soon!

The floating cat-like being getting stared at by Ninth and his predecessors was almost two decades too soon. It was impossible. No one should have a quirk yet!

"Oooh, I got a whole welcome committee? How nice." The cat thing laughed, its black body turning this way and that before slitted green eyes focused on Ninth. "Thanks, little hero."

In a blink, Ninth was onto the thing, hand about to snatch it out of the air.

It dodged, being able to keep up with Ninth using 18% with bored ease. "Sorry, kid, I'm not much of a touchy-feely guy. I can change my mind if you get me some cheese, though."

Ninth lunged at the being two more times and when both failed, he gave up on capture and went straight to elimination. His legs and arms blurred in a barrage of attacks that kicked up a veritable whirlwind inside the spacious room.

Training equipment, tools, books, and annotations went flying, but the little cat didn't even come close to getting scratched.

"You're a rowdy kitten, I'll give you that. But again, so are all your predecessors, right?" The cat looked straight at First, and that sent all of them into a frenzy.

Forget everything else, how could this thing see the Vestiges?!

"How the hell can this thing see us?!" Thanks for speaking his thoughts, Fifth.

"Of course, I can see you. I am the Kwami of Destruction, after all." The snarky tone was amused as if the cat thought it all a funny gag.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Second's question was followed by a wary stare bordering on a hostile glare.

"I'm glad you asked." The cat, Kwami, vanished in a black blur. "A Kwami is, in your superhuman terms, a class six conceptual manifestation quirk." It said from its new perch on Ninth's head.

Ninth felt his heart-stopping. While most quirk definitions were still vague and generic even after two centuries, the most educated minds of I-Island had come up with finer detailed categories for research purposes.

The class system determined potency. Not strength in the typical sense, or how dangerous or destructive the quirk was. No, it was a metric of the effect a quirk could produce while exerting itself. It went from one, where most untrained population quirks fell, being capable of small area and brief effects, to class five, where powers capable of reshaping the landscape were.

Above those was the sixth class. Every single quirk that landed on that class was capable of going against the logic of the world in cataclysmic proportions.

Ninth had one such quirk, and it was capable of bending fate itself. He broke away from a sure prediction of a class five quirk and altered the flow of history. His predecessors remained alive, in a sense, even after their demise at the hands of the monster who possessed the counterpart to their power. Ninth was still there, even when he should have ended with their war.

If that thing was of similar capabilities (too soon, way too soon!), then Ninth had to get rid of it before the world cracked like an egg.

Because the class was only half of the reason he was frozen in shock and absolute dread. The second categorization was of the nature of the power, with the first part determining the type and the second the effect.

A quirk that granted hydrokinesis was an elemental manipulation one. A quirk that permitted a person to secrete and detonate nitroglycerin was a chemical ignition one. And a quirk that let you give a physical form to a concept, like destruction, was a conceptual manifestation quirk.

"What do you want?" Ninth knew if a fight started, Paris would go up in flames. He had to prevent the possible millions of deaths, by any means necessary.

"Ah, ah, ah!" The cat floated upside down, locking its green eyes with Ninth's. "Don't even think about it. You can't help me if you break yourself into tiny little pieces, kitten."

"Why do you want my help?"

The Kwami grinned a cat grin, "Because, Deku, I need a hero."

Ninth felt his gut twist into knots and his heartbeat drum in his ears. That wasn't his name. Not anymore. Never again.

Deku was dead. He just hadn't remembered to stop walking.

"Oh, don't look at me like that." The cat-being righted itself in the air. "I know who you are. I know where and when you came from. And the most important part, I know how you got here."

No. It was impossible. There was no conceivable way.

Then why did Ninth catch himself asking "How?"

"Thank him." The Kwami pointed at the just as shell-shocked Vestige of the First. "Shigaraki Yoichi is as much an anomaly as you, kitten. His power, One For All, has no right existing." The same cat grin split its black-pelted face again. "Yet, it does."

"Okay, eldritch horror cat thingy, better start explaining!" First marched to the floating Kwami, his own green eyes steely. "How did I get my kid in this even bigger mess?"

"First-"

"Stop! I need to know. I'm tired of seeing my legacy amounting to tragedy after tragedy." The man looked every bit his age with how defeated he suddenly sounded. "Just, tell me."

The cat snickered a cackle, "Oh, that's golden." Floating to the Vestige, the Kwami patted First's cheek, much to their collective shock. "Your legacy is the closest thing of an Ascendancy that a human reached since the dark ages. Chin up, kitten, you might have just saved the world from breaking under the strain of the shift it went through."

"What the heck does any of that mean?!"

"It means, Banjo Daigoro, that without your predecessor, reality would have to start from the beginning when your race eventually imploded under the weight of its evolution." The cat seemed to be enjoying the reactions it got.

"If you know all our names, you could at least tell us yours."

"Ah, Shinomori Hikage, always the level-headed one. Fine, my name is Plagg." It- he, Plagg, gave a mock bow that would never be mistaken for respectful. "But back on topic. Your little musketeer thing works a little differently from what you imagine."

"How so?"

"Simply, En."

"No big reveal of his name?"

"No, Shimura Nana. I'll not refer to him by a name he chose to abandon."

"Okay, proceed, cat god."

"Thanks. Now where was I? Oh yeah, One For All, as you kids call it, isn't attached to the body, but the soul." Plagg floated back to Ninth, putting a paw(?) on his forehead. "It was never the flesh that carried the will, but the spark. While you all ran around thinking about the muscles to not turn poor Deku into a meat noodle, you forgot that there was only one part of a person that can really be passed on."

"And that is?"

"Their spirit, Yagi Toshinori." Plagg turned to the golden colossus of a man, not at all bothered by his towering form. "When you chose your successor, you haven't passed to him your flesh. It was your vision, your resolve that a world needs a symbol. The rest fell into place because of his own drive."

"That's nice and all…" Second hadn't stopped staring, following the Kwami with his eyes and noticing every little movement, and that's why he saw it "But cut the bullshit. You're acting all wise and composed, but you had been leading the conversation while holding back your laugh from the start. You're getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"

Plagg howled a laugh, looking like he would fall from the air with how much he was wheezing. "You got me!" He didn't look bothered at all by the fact. "The thing is, I'm usually not all that invested in things. I'm the one that comes to clean the house so Sugar Cube can do her magic, which doesn't lead to all that many chances to stop and smell the roses."

The Kwami once more blurred, appearing right in front of Ninth's face. "But this time, I have every reason to get invested."

"And why's that?" Ninth face was blank, his voice level, and his stare flat. The only sign that betrayed his inner turmoil was the faintest of tremors from his tightly balled fist.

"Because of you." Plagg's smirk became bigger and sharper, almost predatory. "You, kitten, can solve everything in one fell swoop."

"'Everything' meaning?" Why did Ninth feel as if he was talking to Sir Nighteye again? Like the other person knew every move he would take and what it would lead to?

"The later parts aren't important now." Plagg waved off as if pushing the thought away, then he drew closer, "The part that you need to know, is that you can save my friend."

Ninth knew he lost whatever hope he had of wriggling his way out of that mess then and there. "What happened to your friend, is he in danger?"

"Yes." Plagg's voice took a bland tone, but his whole body seemed to lose coherence for a second. The Kwami took a deep breath and calmed down, "He got taken away from us a long time ago. Too long. Whoever has him is in this city, and they're going to abuse his power to destroy it." There was more to the story, there always was, but it was clear that the cat was being genuine.

It only put another nail in the damn coffin. "They won't."

Plagg opened a smile of the cat who just got the canary, "Oh, and why do you say that?"

"Because…" Deku was dead, but if he was still walking, if he was still standing, then he would keep fighting. Until the bitter end.

"I am here."

So, it has been a while. As some people know, my aunt had passed away recently. I had been rattled for a time and needed something to pour out all the feelings swimming around in my chest.

That's how this thing came to be. No Miraculous Cure is a mix of me expressing my grief and a hype train started by my good friend Silverbits when I showed her this (she also edited the chapter, so give her a shout-out). This story will be hitting the usual tones of my stories, with chaos, shenanigans, and plot. Still, it will have a different feel for the characters as I express some of my recent experiences and headspaces through them.

If you don't care about any of that, it's fine, just enjoy the story. If you do, then pop on the discord server I have going on.

Here's the link: discord . gg / stAGY4V

For the story in itself, it's basically the MHA x MLA crossover no one asked for. The best part? I have only vaguely watched MLA because my sister used to watch it on the living room TV and I peeked at it while doing my college classes during the pandemic.

Yeah. This is gonna be fun.