The days slipped by in a blur, each one carrying the weight of what was to come. And then, just like that, the week was over.
Downstairs, Tom and Sabine stood near the door, already dressed and ready. Their eyes flicked up toward the staircase every few seconds, waiting for Marinette and Gurvi to come down.
But upstairs, Gurvi sat on the edge of Marinette's bed, unmoving. The crisp black suit he wore felt suffocating, like a chain holding him down rather than something meant to give him confidence. His hands rested on his thighs, fingers pressing into the fabric, but his feet… his feet wouldn't stop. Beneath the polished shoes, his toes curled and uncurled against the insoles, a silent battle against the storm brewing inside him.
His mind raced. Court. His uncle. The truth. The risk.
A part of him screamed to get up, to fight like he always had. But another part—the tired, battle-worn part—felt like a man standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down at an abyss he wasn't sure he could survive.
The door creaked open slightly, and Marinette peeked in. She didn't say anything at first, just stepped in and closed the door behind her. Quietly, she walked over and sat beside him.
She didn't rush him, didn't tell him to hurry up. She just… waited. Because she knew.
And after a few moments, Gurvi let out a shaky breath. "...This suit feels heavy."
Marinette gently placed her hand over his. "Then let me carry some of that weight with you."
Gurvi swallowed hard, his fingers gripping his knees as he stared at the floor. "Mari… I'm scared." His voice was quiet, almost fragile, as if saying it out loud would make the fear even more real.
Marinette squeezed his hand, waiting for him to continue.
"I've fought men bigger than me, stronger than me. I've bled, broken bones, taken hits that should've left me down for good… but this is different." His jaw clenched. "I'm about to stand against the man who made me who I am—the man I feared the most. No amount of training or strength ever prepared me for this."
Marinette's grip tightened around his. "Gurvi—"
He let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling as if the suit itself was pressing against him. "I haven't gone to the gym in months, haven't been in a real fight since…" His voice trailed off. "My heart's beating faster, and it's not because of anger or adrenaline. It's fear."
Marinette turned toward him fully, her thumb running gently over his knuckles. "Gurvi… you don't have to do this alone."
He finally looked at her, eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "I know," he whispered. "But knowing that doesn't make the fear go away."
Marinette scooted closer, cupping his face gently. "Gurvi… listen to me," she whispered, her voice soft yet steady. "When this is over, we're going on a date, okay? Just the two of us. We'll eat ice cream all day, try every flavor they have—chocolate, vanilla, even that weird pistachio one."
Gurvi huffed a small, shaky laugh, but he still looked uncertain.
Marinette smiled, pressing her forehead against his. "And you know what? You won't even have to train again—ever. You can get all soft and chubby if you want, and I'll still love you just the same."
That made him finally crack a real smile. He shook his head. "Chubby, huh?"
"Very chubby," she teased, poking his stomach. "I'll even buy you oversized hoodies so no one will know how much ice cream you ate."
Gurvi sighed, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. "You really think I'll make it through this?"
Marinette pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her expression turning serious. "I know you will. Because you're not doing this alone. You have me, my parents, Alya, Adrien—everyone who cares about you. And when it's all over, we'll go live our best life, with or without the chubbiness."
Gurvi exhaled deeply, then finally nodded. "Alright… but if I'm getting chubby, you're eating just as much ice cream as me."
Marinette grinned. "Deal."
Marinette stood near the doorway, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress as she looked at her parents. "Mama, Papa… you both go ahead. We'll come later," she said softly.
Tom and Sabine exchanged glances. "Marinette, are you sure?" Sabine asked gently, concern evident in her voice.
Marinette nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I just… I want to give Gurvi some space. He needs a moment before we step into that courtroom." She hesitated before taking a deep breath. "And… maybe… maybe I just want to walk with him alone. Just in case."
Her voice trembled slightly at the end, and her parents immediately understood.
Tom sighed, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Alright, sweetheart. But remember, whatever happens, we're standing with you both."
Marinette gave a small smile, though the weight in her chest remained. As her parents left, she turned back to see Gurvi still sitting on the bed, lost in thought.
She walked over, slipping her fingers into his hand, squeezing gently. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's take a walk."
Gurvi looked up at her, his eyes filled with so many emotions—fear, sadness, love. He didn't say anything, just nodded, intertwining his fingers with hers as they stepped out into the cold morning air.
This walk… it could be the last peaceful moment they had together. And Marinette wasn't going to waste a second of it.
As they walked in silence, the cold morning air wrapped around them. Marinette held onto Gurvi's arm, feeling the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.
Then, a familiar jingle broke through the tension. She looked up and saw an ice cream cart on the sidewalk, the vendor adjusting his display.
Marinette tugged Gurvi's arm. "Come on," she said with a small smile, leading him toward the stall.
The vendor, an elderly man with kind eyes, greeted them warmly. "What can I get for you two?"
Marinette turned to Gurvi expectantly. He blinked, as if just realizing where they were, then sighed. "Chocolate," he said simply.
Marinette rolled her eyes. "Obviously." She looked at the vendor. "I'll have strawberry."
The man nodded and handed them their cones. As Marinette took her first bite, she looked at Gurvi, who was staring at his ice cream, deep in thought.
"Don't think too much," she said softly. "Just enjoy the moment."
Gurvi exhaled and finally took a bite. The coldness shocked his tongue, grounding him for a second. Marinette smiled as she watched him, knowing that for at least this moment, he wasn't drowning in fear.
As they walked side by side, their steps slow and unhurried, Marinette reached for Gurvi's hand. He didn't resist. Their fingers intertwined naturally, his warmth seeping into hers despite the chilly air.
They ate their ice creams in comfortable silence, the world around them fading into the background. Gurvi, for the first time in days, felt a small sense of peace. The cold sweetness melted on his tongue, and Marinette's touch kept him grounded.
Marinette gently swung their joined hands and smiled at him. "See? Ice cream makes everything better."
Gurvi let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You and your sweet tooth."
She nudged him playfully. "And you love it."
His smile softened. "Yeah… I do."
For a while, they just stood there, savoring the moment, the weight of tomorrow momentarily forgotten.
Marinette felt her breath hitch as Gurvi reached out, his fingers gently brushing against one of her pigtails. He twirled the silky strands between his fingertips, his gaze soft yet intense.
"I never realized how beautiful your hair is," he murmured, almost as if he were seeing her for the first time. "Your pigtails... they suit you so much."
Marinette blinked, her cheeks warming. "You see me every day, Gurvi," she said with a small, nervous laugh.
He shook his head slightly, his deep eyes locked onto hers. "No... I mean, I never really saw you like this." His voice was quiet, almost in awe. "Your eyes, Mari… they're beautiful. Like—like the sky just before it rains."
Her heart pounded as she looked into his eyes. There was no teasing in his tone, no playful smirk—just raw honesty. It felt like, for the first time, he wasn't just looking at her. He was seeing her.
Marinette swallowed hard, gripping her melting ice cream. "Gurvi…"
He smiled slightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Just had to say it."
She wanted to say something back, but her words failed her. Instead, she squeezed his hand tighter, silently hoping this moment would never end.
Gurvi sighed, his gaze still fixed on her as he let the weight of his emotions settle. He gave a small, bitter chuckle, shaking his head.
"I regret it, Marinette," he admitted softly. "I regret always crying about my state, about my past, about everything. I was so caught up in my pain, in my fight to survive, that I never really lived."
Marinette's grip on his hand tightened as she listened, her heart aching for him.
He looked down at their intertwined fingers, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over her knuckles. "I never took the time to enjoy the simplest things… like this." He gestured to their ice creams, the quiet street, the warmth of their hands together. "Being with you, just walking, eating ice cream, laughing without thinking about tomorrow… I should have done this more. And now, I feel like I wasted so much time."
Marinette swallowed the lump in her throat, stepping closer. "Gurvi, you didn't waste anything," she whispered. "You were surviving, healing. And now you're here, with me, living in this moment."
He looked into her eyes, searching for reassurance, for something to hold on to. "I just... I don't want to regret anything anymore, Marinette."
"Then don't," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "From now on, we take every moment as it comes. No regrets."
Gurvi exhaled, his lips curling into a small, genuine smile. He gave her hand a squeeze. "No regrets," he echoed. And for the first time in a long while, he truly meant it.
As they walked, the weight of reality slowly settling in, Marinette suddenly stopped. Gurvi turned to her, confused, but she simply reached into her pocket and pulled out a neatly folded letter.
She took his hand, placing it gently in his palm. "Before we reach the court… before everything begins, I want you to read this," she said softly.
Gurvi frowned slightly, his thumb running over the edges of the letter. "Mari… what is this?"
She shook her head. "Not now," she insisted. "Read it before the battle starts, but not a second before that. Promise me."
Her eyes held a quiet urgency, something deeper than just words on paper. He could see it—the way her lips pressed together, the slight tremble in her fingers, the way she was trying to be strong for him.
Gurvi exhaled and gave her a small nod. "Alright… I promise."
Marinette smiled, but it was a fragile one. She gave his hand one last squeeze before they continued their walk. The court was only a few corners away now. And with every step, the air around them grew heavier.
As they turned the next corner, the atmosphere shifted. The street was eerily quiet, and the air felt heavier, thicker.
Then, like shadows emerging from the dim morning light, a group of men stepped out from an alleyway ahead. Their movements were slow, deliberate. Gurvi's grip on Marinette's hand tightened instinctively. He didn't need to think twice—he knew exactly who they were.
Mahendra's men.
They stood there, blocking the path, their expressions unreadable, but their intent was clear. A silent, suffocating tension filled the space between them. Marinette felt her heart hammer in her chest, but she kept her posture firm, refusing to show fear.
Gurvi exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. His muscles tensed beneath his suit. He wasn't in his usual fighting gear. No wraps on his fists, no steel-toed boots—just him, his turban neatly tied, and the weight of everything he had fought for pressing down on his shoulders.
One of the men took a step forward, smirking. "Going somewhere, Singh?"
Gurvi didn't answer immediately. He only let go of Marinette's hand, positioning himself slightly in front of her. His voice, when he finally spoke, was calm but firm.
"Move."
The man chuckled darkly, glancing at his companions before looking back at Gurvi. "You're making this harder than it has to be. We don't want to hurt you—" He sneered. "—much."
Marinette swallowed hard, shifting slightly behind Gurvi. She wasn't just afraid—she was furious. She had heard of Mahendra's tactics before, but to ambush Gurvi now, right before the court?
She clenched her fists. "You really think stopping him here is going to change anything?" she snapped. "The public is on his side. The world is watching."
The man's smirk didn't falter. "The world won't see what happens in this alley."
Gurvi took a deep breath, his fingers flexing. The old familiar feeling settled into his bones—the readiness before a fight. But this wasn't just any fight. This was an ambush. He wasn't dressed for it, wasn't prepared.
But none of that mattered.
If they thought he was going to back down, they had severely underestimated him.