*AN: for anyone confused, this book is split into 3 parts to break up the story more*
He'd said they could come visit whenever they wanted—that they were welcome if they ever thought they'd need his help. But this hadn't exactly been how they'd anticipated their first visit going—arms wrapped around one another as they dragged their weary feet down the darkened Parisian streets.
But Mari couldn't very well go back to Alya's as scraped up as she was, so she'd called and lied—said she was staying at the hotel with her parents' that night. They'd considered going back to the Agreste mansion, as Gabriel knew who they were anyway, but it'd been an uncomfortable solution, one that Adrien had feared would end badly—especially in their current condition.
Therefore, the mansion had become their last resort. They'd try the address Master Fu had given them first, before he'd left the hospital. It was to some other place he'd said he could live and that they could locate him at. He'd said he'd be in touch with them soon anyway, but apparently it hadn't been soon enough.
Holding up his phone, Adrien blinked heavy eyes down at the GPS. Marinette's arm was wrapped around his waist, his own on her shoulders, and he was very much aware of how heavy her head was against him. They were both so tired and the walk had been exceedingly long. They'd had no suits to make the stretch faster, no advantages to counter their current shortcomings. Tikki and Plagg weren't even awake. The two kwami had been passed out as soon as they'd flitted from the miraculouses, Mari even mentioning concerns about their health.
Yet another facet they hoped Master Fu could help with.
"I think this is it," Adrien said roughly, peering up at the old building. Around them, the streets were active, the two gathering quite a few looks from interested passerbys. Which was reasonable in their condition. Thankfully, their clothes covered most of the damage—with the exception of light blood stains on Mari and the huge, red and blue bruise stretching down Adrien's jaw and over his neck. It was dark, however, the streets lit only by shops and the red glowing lanterns of Paris' Chinatown. Cars were parked bumper to bumper in the thin streets and Chinese characters were plastered all over the buildings.
Most of the crowd around them was of Asian decent, which meant Adrien stuck out like a sore thumb. Yet, it was hardly a detail he could bring himself to focus on. It was nearing eleven o'clock and they stood before a shabby, two-story building with no lights and boarded up windows.
Together, they went to the shallow nook on the right side, where the worn wood of an old door was tucked. Having put his phone back into his jean's pocket, Adrien raised his fist and slowly knocked. The small motion sent echoing pain through his whole body, the throbbing welt on his upper arm seeming all the worse.
Thankfully, they didn't have to wait long out in the street. The clicking of the door being hastily unlocked was like a weight being lifted from both of them, the sight of Master Fu opening the door near enough to cause what little strength they had left to give out on them.
"Come in, come in," he issued as soon as he saw them. "Quickly." He reached out to help them, taking Mari's other arm upon spotting the bloody streak that had leaked through the front of her t-shirt.
The inside of the building was open, only one side lightly furnished. It was there that Master Fu directed them. Stepping over the hardwood floors, he placed them beside a low table, around which were a plethora of floor cushions. Above, hanging from the ceiling, was a large, white paper lantern, which lit only their side of the room. The rest was in shadows. Atop the table was a tray with an old teapot and one cup, as if Master Fu had only just been in the midst of drinking.
