Chapter Text
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” said Adrien.
The sun wasn’t setting yet, but it was about to touch the rooftops outside the windows of Adrien’s bedroom. Lying down on her back in his bed, with his arm under her head as he lay on his side and looked so sweetly at her, Marinette felt…
… like she was breaking some kind of rule by being here so late.
“It feels like I’m breaking some kind of rule by being here so late,” she answered. She needed her surface thoughts to answer, because if she were ever honest about the frantic and murky waters that lay underneath, she would be opening a box that could never again be closed.
His hand tugged lightly on her pigtail. “Is that the only thing you’re thinking of?”
“It also felt weird using your shower,” she said, putting on a smile for him and letting her head fall sideways so they could see eye to eye. “I thought it would be mysterious and full of secrets, but… it’s just a fancy shower.”
“It’s very big,” he said, smiling lopsidedly in return. “I don’t blame you for feeling weird.”
If only ‘feeling weird’ was where it stopped, then maybe she could have enjoyed this. Not that she didn’t enjoy it — he was here, he was her boyfriend, he was being so soft and warm with her — but that only made her feel more guilty.
“Was today fun?” she said. “For… for you?”
“Yeah. I loved it.” He inched forward, struggled a bit to get past his own arm as he lifted himself above her — but then he reached her forehead with his lips, and stayed there for a while. When he let off, he murmured, “Even though you didn’t come into the pool.”
“I had socks on…”
“You still do,” he said with a chuckle. “But you don’t need to do that. I bet your feet are lovely. Just as beautiful as the rest of you.”
Marinette swallowed. The compliment floated by like his breath, dispersing before it even reached her. Yes — she was as beautiful as her black and flaking foot. In truth, all the wound was doing was to expose her soul.
Adrien was so gorgeous. He was kind and joyful and gentle and she couldn’t believe he actually wanted her. He deserved so much better than a liar and a coward like her.
Her guts twisted queasily. The truth needed to come out, sooner or later — but she didn’t know when, she didn’t know how, she didn’t know where, she didn’t know anything except the truth itself.
She needed someone to help her tell him. Someone who could just tell her what to do and give her the right words to say. Someone to stand next to her while she talked, or someone to talk while she stood next to them…
… like…
His other hand was suddenly on her cheek. “Thanks for coming today,” he said. “I always have fun when I’m with you.”
“... Thank you,” she mumbled, and her cheeks burned uncomfortably hot. “R-really?”
“Yeah. I wish you could just stay here all the time.”
“I — I can’t —”
“I know,” he sighed. “But one day. One day, we might get married, and we could live here together, and we could…”
All of Marinette burned uncomfortably hot, like she was being roasted alive under his tender expectant eyes. “Could what?”
“Do you want to have kids, Marinette? When we’re married? Not straight away, but… I wanna have kids, I think, and… if you want them too, maybe we could… you know?”
Adrien was blushing. But Marinette had gone from the searing flames of hell’s eighth circle down to the frozen wastes of the ninth. She could barely breathe, let alone move, and her thoughts flowed like a glacier. “Adrien…” she murmured, shocked at the coherence of her voice, “we’re only fourteen… it’s too early to discuss this, when we — we only just started dating…”
“Yeah, but…” Adrien seemed about to protest for a moment, but then he tickled the back of her neck a little bit. “Yeah. You’re right. We’ll talk about it later… when we’ve had a little more time, right?”
“... Y-yeah,” said Marinette. She couldn’t look him in the face, because she didn’t deserve to look at him. She could never admit to him that his father had been Monarch. She would die from her rotting foot long before she could marry anyone. There was no promise she could possibly give him that wouldn’t be broken. “Adrien… what if something happens?”
“If something happens to you, I’ll take care of you.”
“But what if I hurt you? What if I do something that makes you hate me?”
He cupped his hands around her neck, and she had to meet his eyes again. Emerald green dreams consumed her. “Marinette,” he almost whispered, “I could never hate you. I swear I’ll love you no matter what.”
“But… what if you don’t? What if —”
“I promise. I can’t imagine anything that would make me stop loving you.”
She wanted to challenge him. To tell him the truth right then and there. To get it over with. But she would choke on her fear before she even got the first syllable out.
If only she had that someone to help her talk to him…
Nathalie knew. Amelie knew. Félix knew. Tomoe Tsurugi knew. None of them would work, they were all too distant from her… but Cat Noir might work. He didn’t know yet, but if she talked to him, he would definitely know what to do. And if Adrien got everything explained to him by a hero, especially one as confident as Cat Noir, then he might not be angry afterwards…
“You look tired,” said Adrien.
“Yeah… I am. Sorry.” The worst and most awkward giggle she had ever heard in her life escaped from her lips. “I should… I should get home.”
“I’ll walk you downstairs, okay?”
“Okay. Um… thanks.”
He took her hand and led her out into the hallway, where he briefly let go as they put on their shoes outside the door. She was very careful with her wounded foot, winced only as much as she absolutely needed to as she placed her heel into the shoe, and made sure to smile before he took her hand again and led her down to the ground floor. He took her to the living room doors, too, and not even being tied up in a nest of cables could have stopped her from following wherever he wanted to go.
“Marinette’s going home now,” said Adrien, after he’d pushed open the door to what had been Gabriel’s — Monarch’s — old workspace. Nathalie and Amelie, from their couch, waved daintily at them.
“Have a safe trip home,” said Amelie.
“Thanks for coming today, Marinette,” said Nathalie and smiled.
But next to Amelie sat Félix… and he wouldn’t even look towards the door. Marinette raised her hand gingerly to wave. “Um… bye,” she said. “You too, Félix.”
Was he scared she would take his Miraculous away? Or offended that Kagami hadn’t received hers yet? Or was this about Gabriel, or about Adrien? Marinette found no answer from his avoidant eyes, so she turned away before it got too awkward.
Or maybe he was worried she’d be angry with him for imprisoning all of Paris inside Red Moon. Maybe he was worried she’d punish him for taking all the Miraculous and giving them to Gabriel. And sure, she was definitely still cross with him — or perhaps ‘cross’ was the wrong word, perhaps she was scared or distrustful or perhaps she did want to twist his arm behind his back until it broke and perhaps she wanted to scream at him until her throat was raw — but she no longer had the right to complain about him. If she were to throw a stone, then the glass all around her would shatter before the stone even left her hand.
Adrien brought her to the front doors while she churned over Félix, but paused at the doorstep, where he fiddled with his rings — his amok — while talking. “Will I see you again before school?” he said.
“I’m not sure,” she mumbled, temporarily fixated on the rings as they spun loosely around his finger. “Only three days left…”
“But we’ll talk on the phone, right?”
“R-right!”
“Should I walk you home?”
“Adrien.” Marinette sighed, looked at his face but not into his eyes. “I — thanks, but I can walk home alone. Talk to Nathalie and Amelie instead, okay? And, and Félix. You’ve barely talked to them all day.”
He nodded with an awkward smile. “Yeah… you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be —”
“I’ll call you tomorrow!” He didn’t interrupt her, not really. She’d barely raised her voice, had tried to stammer in a few words in the middle of his words without the energy to see it through.
“--- okay,” she said.
An hour that was probably just a second passed. And then she threw herself forward, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her nose into the nape of his neck. “I love you,” she said, and it wasn’t enough, it could never be enough, but it could maybe help a little bit while she worked out how to tell him. “I… I love you.”
“I love you too,” he whispered, and he didn’t hug her back tightly — but the squeeze from his arms was so much more than enough.
She swallowed the sob that was trying to push its way out, and she spent the several moments before she finally let go just stabilising herself enough that he wouldn’t read the despair in her through her eyes. When she did pull back, he was smiling, and so was she.
And he kept smiling for as long as she could see him, but as soon as her back was turned to the house, she shed her first tear.
◀◁ ▧▨▧ ▨▧▨ ▷▶
The kwamis hovered around her while she worked. None of them spoke, not anymore — they got through all their questions long ago, and now they were just mutely watching as she carved and lacquered and inscribed box after box. The only sound, apart from what she made with her tools, was the news report on her computer screen. It was about Paris’s future. It sounded like a good future. It sounded like a future she would have loved to experience.
She was getting used to the pattern. She’d inscribed it on twenty different boxes by now, although five of them were ones she messed up on in some way or other; she’d shoved them carelessly off to the side for now. Skipping boxes for Tikki and Plagg and Duusu, that meant she only had one left.
After some hinge testing, she felt safe enough with it to put Stompp’s Miraculous inside. Then she glanced at the clock on her screen — 15:58. Almost time for A—
“Marinette?” said Sabine’s voice from downstairs; all the kwamis immediately dived back into hiding.
“You can’t come up right now,” said Marinette.
The hatch flew open either way. But the head that popped up was Alya’s, along with most of the rest of Alya. “But I can, right?”
“Yeah,” said Marinette, breathing out. “You’re allowed.”
Alya looked down the stairs. “Sorry, it’s not a secret or anything, she’s just a bit stressed. Dealing with fewer people helps, you know?” she said, and there were sounds of understanding from both of Marinette’s parents. Not for the first time, Marinette had to appreciate just how perceptive of a friend Alya was; she definitely wouldn’t have had the headspace to think of that explanation herself.
And then Alya climbed up, closed the hatch, and smiled at her. “Girl. You look like you haven’t slept.”
“Is it that obvious?” mumbled Marinette, swivelling her chair back to the table. She simply hadn’t had time to, because she needed to finish the work as quickly as possible.
“Marinette, please tell me you didn’t stay up all — you did, didn’t you…” Alyas’ footsteps came slow but unavoidable and steady, and soon her arms were flung around Marinette’s chest and neck. “I’m not leaving you until you’re in bed, okay?”
“Mmf,” said Marinette, inching the chair forward a little more. Alya hung on. “I have to hand these out tonight…”
“Tonight?” said Alya with obvious surprise. “Why do you need to do it tonight?”
“Because the butterfly Miraculous is still missing, and if I keep the Miraculous longer than I need to I might lose them all again.” It was a simple fact, with no emotion attached. “I’m going to make all the holders responsible for their own Miraculous.”
Alya sighed and let go of the back hug, leaving only one hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Yeah, I assumed as much from your message. But that means I can save you a trip to my place, right? Or do you wanna keep Trixx longer?”
“Nope!” said Trixx, popping out from the pencil drawer; all the other kwamis soon stuck their heads out too. “I’m going with you today!”
“And you could help Marinette hand out all the others, Alya,” said Tikki, emerging from behind the computer screen. Marinette winced and reached out for the final box, which was already mostly complete: she only had the pattern on top left, as well as a finishing varnish.
“I was already gonna do that,” said Alya. Then it sounded like she was hugging Trixx. “Oh, you little rascal, I’ve missed you…”
“We’re gonna make the best illusions together!”
“Rena Rouge back in action!”
“Yeah!”
“Yeah!”
There was a pause, as the kwamis all came back outside and settled into watching Marinette’s woodcutting again. Alya joined them, hunching down by the desk and folding her arms over it. “So… did you just call me over for the company?”
“No,” said Tikki. “Master Su-Han is coming. And Marinette doesn’t want to talk to him alone.” Marinette cringed only a little bit at that, trying to maintain focus on the line she was chipping out.
“But he is late,” said Wayzz. “I hope nothing has happened to hi—”
Knuckles rapped on the balcony window, and Marinette quickly ushered the kwamis to hide again. “Um, Alya, could you check if it’s him? I’m a little…”
“I got you, girl.” Alya walked away and went to climb up to the bed, where she crawled unseen for a little bit. A short while later, the hatch opened with a pop and she said: “Yeah, that’s Su-Han.”
“Guardian,” said Su-Han’s unmistakable voice, “why is this girl here?”
“I’m Marinette’s best friend,” said Alya, and Marinette imagined the girl was sternly folding her arms. “And she invited me.”
Nothing happened for a moment. Marinette kept her eyes on the box, started chipping out another line. Eventually, Su-Han said: “Fine. I’ll permit it.”
“Don’t care. I only need her permission. Don’t get your sandal dirt on her bed when you climb in.”
There was some rustling and creaking and grunting above, and then Alya and Su-han came down the ladder. They whispered something between each other that Marinette didn’t catch, and then they came to stand on either side of her.
Then Su-Han cleared his throat to her left. “Guardian.”
“Hello,” said Marinette, flicking out a chip of wood onto the desk. She was very close to finishing. “I’m a bit busy…”
“I can see that.” A moment passed, and Marinette guessed he was taking in all the pages and notes and translations from the grimoire, as well as the boxes. “Why have you permitted your friend to see the kwamis, and the contents of the grimoire? This is highly irregular.”
But not, Marinette noted quietly, so irregular that he was commanding her to give back the box. His tone was sharp, but it lacked the bitterness it had held so many times before; instead, he almost sounded worried.
“She’s permitted me because I’m her best friend,” said Alya, with her own brand of sharpness. “She trusts me, and I trust her.”
“You mean to tell me… you have also been inducted into the secrets of the Miraculous?”
“I’m also a holder.” There was a small ‘Hey there’ from Trixx. “I help Marinette because she needs it, and what she doesn’t need is some old jerk shouting at her when she hasn’t slept for forty hours, so do not test her.”
“Alya…” said Marinette, digging another furrow into the box. “Don’t. Please. We’re all on the same side.”
She imagined the things that might be happening behind her: Alya and Su-Han frowning with steely glares, their eyes shooting daggers at each other, Alya raising a threatening fist, Su-Han stepping back. Whatever it was, it ended with a sigh from Su-Han. “Fine. I suppose you have been disconnected from the Order. I permit it.”
“You better. Marinette tells me everything, and that’s just how it’s gonna be.”
Marinette felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart. Neither Alya nor Tikki knew about her cataclysmed foot — nor would they ever know. It was the one secret she’d allow herself. “Thank you,” she croaked, and put the tool down.
The pattern was complete — now she needed to sand it, and then only the varnish and lacquer were left, and she picked up a piece of sandpaper and ran her thumb across it and she would much rather focus on what she was doing with her hands than anything else right now.
“What is the purpose of so many boxes?”
“Holding the Miraculous.”
“The Miracle Box —”
“Nuh uh,” said Alya. “Don’t start complaining about her again.”
Marinette cleared her throat while she put down the sandpaper. “It’s fine, Alya. I can handle this,” she said, picking up the lacquer brush and dipping it into the pot. “From today on, every single holder will have their Miraculous permanently.”
“What? That is unacceptable!”
“Hey, old man —”
“Alya, please,” said Marinette. She focused on the brush, on making the lines right, because the less she had to look at anybody else the easier it was to present her case. “Su-Han, I’m still the guardian. That means I’m the one in charge of the box. I’ve proved myself to be capable time and time again, and I believe this is the right course of action.”
It was a lie. She had proved herself to be incapable every time it mattered. But projecting confidence about this meant that she wouldn’t have to explain the extra reason that was currently eating her foot.
“The Miraculous have always been kept together!”
“And you know what happened as a result of that,” said Marinette. She put the brush down — the final box was ready. She lifted up Mullo’s Miraculous and put it inside, before closing the lid and placing the box next to the others. “Careful, Mullo. The varnish won’t be dry for a few minutes.”
Mullo chirped joyfully and dived down towards the box, and immediately hugged the lid. Marinette could only hope that the kwami was phasing through it, otherwise she was going to have to add a new layer as well as clean Mullo’s whole front. All the other kwamis soon joined Mullo, approaching their own boxes — but Marinette had to maintain focus. “The Miraculous are still in danger, as long as Nooroo is out there.”
There was silence. And a lot of it, concentrated into the space between the three of them like a black hole. Even the kwamis’ chatter seemed to completely die away, and only the meaningless babble from the screen remained, as Marinette reached for Nooroo’s empty box and lifted it off the desk.
The next two things happened at the same time. Alya reaching forward to turn off the broadcast was expected, but Marinette didn’t expect in a million years that Su-Han would put his hand gently on her shoulder. “Still no trace of the Miraculous of the Butterfly?” he asked — and she allowed herself to look over her shoulders at him to catch his worried eyebrows. She shook her head.
“After the wish, all I could find was the double wedding ring, along with the Miraculous that Monarch had turned into rings and Cat Noir's and mine. I transformed into Aquabug and searched the basement but nothing. Even after repairing everything, it's as if the brooch had... disappeared! But whatever happens, we'll be ready.”
She sighed and turned her chair around fully, so she could see both Alya and Su-Han at the same time. “When Monarch seized my yo-yo, he suddenly gained access to all the Miraculous at once. This can never happen again, which is why I'll remain the guardian, but only to support and help my fellow heroes. From now on, each holder will be responsible for the Miraculous and their kwamis. To be sure that power is used for the greater good, it needs to be shared.”
“Master Su-Han…” said Tikki, moving to hover in front of Su-Han. “I agree with Marinette, and I trust her. Please listen to her.” Several of the other kwamis flew forward to do the same, including Wayzz and Roaar.
Su-Han frowned. But his eyebrows gradually unfurrowed, until he looked more sorrowful than disapproving. “I accept,” he said, and Alya nodded appreciatively somewhere in the corner of Marinette’s eyes. “And I apologise for my… outbursts. I didn’t come here today to chastise you.”
“You came here for updates about the butterfly,” said Marinette.
“No. I am here to offer an apology on behalf of the Order.” He bowed — he bowed — with his hands pressed together and his eyes closed. “We failed to respond in time, and as a result, Monarch got to make his wish. We ought to have been here to help you sooner.”
He stood up slowly from the bow, and Marinette realised she was gaping. He had been back in Paris this whole time — they had talked the day after Gabriel’s wish, when she brought the freshly restored Miraculous to him and he asked to hear what had happened. She had seen him several times during her nightly reports. He’d been anything from short to curt to snappy to stern, but never anything else. And now he was bowing to her?
“Why are you telling me this?” said Marinette, and her voice was low and wobbly. “You — you complain about me for a whole half year and tell me I can’t do my job as a guardian, and you, and you, and now is the first time you try to be nice to me?”
Whatever was in his eyes — fear, surprise, concern, sorrow — it did nothing except add kindling to the rising flame inside her. Why was she angry? She had no right to be angry when all he had said was the truth. And yet, she could feel her breath going faster and shallower, could feel her hands tighten their grasp onto nothing whatsoever, and whatever he said next she knew she couldn’t accept it. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know we were too late, and I know I haven’t helped you to become a better guardian —”
“And you’re apologising by saying I’m not good enough,” snapped Marinette, and her voice was rising in intensity but still wobbling. “You’re saying that if only I weren’t the guardian, then everything would have been fine. That’s what you’re saying, right?” And the flame licked up higher, consuming more and more of her insides.
“No, I — that is not what I meant, guardian. You performed exceptionally well. I only meant to say we should have helped you sooner.”
“Then why didn’t you?” She could feel tears pushing on her eyes now. “If you’d actually been here to help, then maybe I would have Nooroo back! Maybe I wouldn’t have lost at all! Maybe you could have stopped Gabriel Agreste from making the wish!”
“Marinette —”
“No, Alya. I wanna know.” The flames were raging inside all of her now, and the pain in her foot was rising with them. “Why did I have to bear the consequences? Why did everything fall to me, when I wasn’t qualified? Why was I alone all the time?” And her tear ducts melted and she started to weep, her voice subsiding into sobs, and Alya was there an instant later with a tight embrace and Su-Han just stood there, mouth open, robbed for words.
“It’s okay, Marinette,” said Alya, fists pushing tight against Marinette’s spine. “It’s okay. You did well. You did everything you could.”
Marinette clamped her arms around Alya in return, helpless to stop herself. She sat there quietly while Alya spoke, only barely aware of the kwamis’ arms also touching her. It was somehow harder to forget Su-Han’s presence, even though he didn’t come closer and he was hidden behind Alya’s hair.
And when he interrupted Alya’s murmurs, she already knew she wasn’t going to listen. “Your anger is justified,” he said. “I apologise that we didn’t help. Your conduct was exemplary —”
“Shut up,” hissed Marinette. “G-go away. I, I don’t want to hear it.” Alya’s arms stiffened for a bit and just for a moment, everything was quiet.
“... Then I will go. Have a good night. We will see each other again soon.”
Marinette saw him climb up the ladder and heard the bed shift and groan, and the flame inside kept burning her until the skylight thudded shut. Only then did she allow herself to unwind.
Alya hung on a little while longer. But when she pulled back, she wasn’t smiling, not even with her lips. Her hands remained on Marinette’s shoulders, like clamps. “Marinette… are you okay?” she said.
“... Yes.”
“You know he was trying to mend bridges, right?”
He hadn’t. He’d been trying to save face. “Yes. I know.”
“Okay, because…” Alya’s thumbs rubbed against Marinette’s shoulder blades. “You sounded really intense. And I don’t blame you, but… you were like… you didn’t need to snap at him, you know? And I thought maybe you had something else on your mind, and if I can help…”
Marinette looked down. Her left foot still hurt. “No,” she lied. “I’m just… tired, I guess…”
“I can imagine,” said Alya, and leant in for another hug. “That settles it. I’m coming with you on every delivery, and then I’m brushing your teeth for you and putting you into bed.”
They spent an hour going around to houses, leaving the kwamis and their Miraculous in people’s rooms. The one exception was Kagami, whose house was probably under close surveillance, and whose mother had been in cahoots with Gabriel — Marinette left Longg in Kagami’s locker, with a special note saying to hide the Miraculous from Tomoe, in addition to the other note she gave everyone.
Alya didn’t brush Marinette’s teeth, but she did put her to bed. She hovered on the ladder with the necklace around her neck and Trixx over her shoulder, as Marinette — with her socks pulled up as far as they would go — curled up under the covers. Of course, she was supposed to sleep, but she only pretended to. In time, Alya whispered a soft “Good night,” and slipped down and out of the room. A short while later, Tikki started to snore.
In the murky silence, Marinette sat upright and rolled down her sock. She couldn’t see a difference for sure from yesterday, but it felt like more. She took her phone from the side of the bed and snapped a picture, saving it in the same folder she’d used for the past two weeks. And she rolled the sock back up and fell back into bed.
And finally, she slept.