How Chat Noir Got His Bell Back

"Claws off!"

Adrien stood in front of his bathroom mirror, leaning over the counter. He placed one palm flat against the glass and stared down into the sink, breathing hard. The plug hole was dark, deep as an abyss, and Adrien imagined the now comforting thought of it opening up and swallowing him whole.

"Plagg," he croaked. "What. Did. You. DO?!"

"I did what you said," Plagg shrugged, responding to his croak with a cackle. "I upgraded your suit."

Adrien launched himself off the mirror, spinning in a remarkably acrobatic way given his current state of distress. It was rather like an ice dancer performing a routine with the added stress of a flamethrower in their peripheral vision. "That is NOT what I meant and you know it!"

Plagg grinned, shaking his head and lounging backwards, as though he was lying on a tiny invisible deck chair. "Well then you should have been more specific. You asked me to upgrade your suit the same way Ladybug had hers upgraded. Her upgrades were aesthetic. So yours are aesthetic too."

Dragging a hand down his face Adrien fought the urge to march into his fridge and dump all of Plagg's stinky cheese into the bin. "Ladybug is going to laugh so hard when she sees me. Change it back!"

"No I don't think I will," Plagg replied. "Honestly, this is the thanks I get? It takes a lot of work and energy to change the appearance of your suit, you know. I'm never appreciated in my time. And like I said, you weren't specific so I had to use energy in connecting to you on a miraculous level."

Adrien frowned. "What do you mean?"

Plagg floated out of the en-suite, back into Adrien's bedroom towards the mini fridge, where his smaller stash of cheese was kept. Adrien followed, crossing his arms over his chest and checking the time. He was due to go on patrol any moment but couldn't stand the idea of going looking so patently uncool.

Around a mouth full of brie, Plagg explained. "You think the suit has stayed the same since the dawn of Miraculous, kid? Nope! Sometimes we kwami go for decades without being activated, so we have no idea about anything that's happened in the meantime. Technology, mindsets, even the rise and fall of empires, none of it. So we connect to our wielders on a subconscious level to quickly catch us up to what the world is like. And we adapt the suits to reflect your own subconscious and find the ideal hero look for the era. Or do you think the Ancient Greeks fought wearing spandex suits? You know there were no smartphones the last time I had a Chat Noir? And people said stuff like 'let's surf the web, cowabunga!'"

There was a pause as Adrien allowed himself to let that knowledge sink in. It made a lot of sense. There was no way a Chat Noir from Ancient Greece would look like him. But then...

"But why would my subconscious make me want to have...well...THAT?!"

"Hey it's your subconscious, I'm just taking it for a walk!"

Groaning, Adrien checked the time again. He was going to be late if he didn't get a move on quickly. He slunk over to Plagg in the most un-model-like way possible, too glum to maintain a perfect posture. "You really won't change it?"

"You need to trust your subconscious more, kiddo," Plagg replied, sighing in content as he finished his last mouthful of cheese. Now that Adrien was closer, and less hysterical, he could spot the telltale slump that showed Plagg was tired. He wasn't lying, he had used a lot of energy to change the suit. "You must have chosen that for a reason. I don't know what for, but it'll be hilarious finding out."

Next to Plagg, Adrien's phone lit up, the telltale alarm letting him know he needed to leave for patrol this instant or be late. Reaching down and shutting the alarm off, Adrien felt a growing sense of despair. When he'd seen how amazing Ladybug's new suit looked, how cool and confident she appeared in it, the way her hips...