"No person, trying to take responsibility for her or his identity, should have to be so alone. There must
be those among whom we can sit down and weep, and still be counted as warriors."
― Adrienne Rich
II.
The world outside is chaos.
News trucks, fans, protestors — the entire universe, it seems — flood the street outside the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The occasional helicopter beats by, capturing aerial footage of the most interesting place in all of Paris: the place where Ladybug eats, sleeps, and lives her daily life. An innocuous patisserie, home to one of Paris's greatest secrets.
To city-wide disappointment, the cameras don't get much of a view. She has only left the bakery once, this morning on her way to school. Hidden beneath Tom's vast arm and guided to school in private transportation provided by Mayor Bourgeois, she remains largely out of view. At least for now.
It doesn't stop the news from picking apart the pieces of her life that can't be tucked safely into her father's arms. Her name, age, picture, home address. Her interests, her accomplishments, her entire life dissected over the tv, radio, and papers. Ladybug is half-Chinese. Ladybug is a fan of Jagged Stone. Ladybug likes to design. Ladybug, this. Ladybug, that.
What they don't know is how little sleep their favorite superheroine is getting. It comes only in fits, and always punctuated by nightmares. The incessant flashing of cameras. The nonstop hounding of Paris's media for an exclusive with Ladybug. Le Papilion finally having the in he needs...every stitch of Ladybug and Marinette bared and revealed, ready for his unraveling.
Her greatest fears are being realized, and no one seems to understand what they've done.
On the news, Nadja Chamack hosts an endless stream of updates on the shocking revelation that has rocked La Ville-Lumière. The world has discovered the civilian identities of their beloved superheros, Ladybug and Chat Noir — and it wasn't what they expected.
Next come the questions. Are they too young? How is it possible Paris' heroes are collége students? How can they possibly allow children to fight crime in their streets?
Everything is too much — too noisy, too scary, too unbearable. Too real.
In the rare moment Marinette finds herself alone in the collége's halls, she slips unnoticed into the nearest utility closet. For the first time in over a week, she has some semblance of anonymity. Her whereabouts are mercifully unaccounted for.
Cross-legged with her back digging against some manner of mop or broom, it feels like the only place in the universe where she is able to breathe.
The world outside? Scary and suffocating.
The closet? Dark, quiet, calm.
The towels and supplies stacked around, smelling of dust and chemicals, don't care about her double life. They expect nothing from her. They just exist around her, mildewy and still.
All is shadowy and silent until the closet door cracks open a few minutes later. In an instant, Marinette's peace cracks open like an egg. And she's ready for the yolk to spill, for whatever manner of intruder awaits her. Fan, classmate, reporter, it doesn't matter.
Except it isn't who Marinette expected...at all.
Outlined in the fluorescent hallway lights is the other problem in Marinette's life. The one who she hasn't had the chance to speak to or even see in person, on this side of Paris's burning reveal: Adrien Agreste. Technically, Adrien isn't the problem. He's perfect. Smart, kind, and beautiful, he's Marinette's part-time-dream-part-time-obsession.
It's his recently revealed alter ego that has Marinette second-guessing everything. Adrien is a lot more complicated than she ever knew; it has her wondering how she was ever so blind.
Her blues eyes widen, and he grins, just a little. At first, it seems like one of Adrien's small, polite smiles. Until all she can see is Chat, head tilted as he favors his partner with another pun, all playful mischief. Adrien, Chat. Chat, Adrien. How could she not see this all along? How could she ever have missed this, missed him?
It has her wondering a lot of things.
The guilt that she could have so completely misunderstand him gnaws at her. In the aftermath of everything, she doesn't feel worthy of any part of him. Boy or superhero.
Marinette says nothing...can't really think of much to say with her partner grinning down at her like that. Quiet and confused but trying. Trying with her, to begin wading through this world where they know everything and so does everyone else. Where she's huddled in a closet — Ladybug, hiding — and he's holding the door and maybe so much more open.
She says the first thing she can think of. "Your father let you come?"
"He's being...surprisingly cool." She can tell her question surprises him, like it's the last thing he expected his classmate-slash-partner to ask, circumstances considered.
But she scoots over, because the only way out is through. Her hands and knees shake as she moves deeper in the closet, leaving just enough room for a boy Chat's size. The invitation is implicit, she thinks. It's also terrifying and too real...but she can't let either of them be alone. Not if she can help it, and not after he took the first step by opening the closet's door. It's what Ladybug would do for Chat, and it's what Marinette would do for Adrien.
He steps into the darkness, closing the door behind without fuss.
Gingerly, he settles beside her. Not too close. Maybe he's afraid she will run if his knee knocks hers or if their elbows brush. Everything is so, so tentative.
"And your parents?" he asks, quiet.
"It's complicated."
And it is. Tom and Sabine are understanding, wonderful parents...but things are different when it's their daughter out there, vaulting across rooftops into certain danger. They're just as unsure as the rest of the world what to do with this newly discovered information.
Adrien and Marinette are complete in darkness, both silent for some time. It is understood this is likely the only bit of it they'll have for a very long time. Here, together, it's almost good. Almost comfortable.
"Marinette?" Adrien says after a time. He sounds so small and scared, Marinette's heart aches for him. Here in the dark, it's easier to see him as Chat, her partner and best friend. To hear him so troubled and hesitant, rings some deep chord in Marinette. She can't bear to see him hurt. She wants to protect him from the world, whether he is Adrien or Chat Noir or someone in between.
Either way, he belongs to her. Either way, she will do all it takes to protect him.
"...Adrien?"
"What happens next?" he asks. The question that's haunted them both since this business began, that will nip at their heels as soon as they leave the safety of this dark, random slice of sanctuary.
But she already knows what will happen and what they will do. Regardless of identities and secrets, it's the one thing she's certain of. "We stay together. We fight Le Papillon. We're in this together, chaton."
His hand brushes hers, just a whisper of touch.
"Always?" he asks.
"Always," she says.