Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The dull blue light emitting from her desktop gave her skin a ghostly glow in her dark bedroom. With her face resting on her knees, all she could do was stare at the two black boxes on the table and his face on the display behind them.
Adrien Agreste.
A boy she only knew through posters and interviews. She thought it was strange how the father and son would be in the same room but never acknowledge each other. She had the chance to be mentored by Gabriel for two hours a day after school, six if it was a weekend, and yet she couldn't recall any kind of public display of affection between the two of them. Then again, Gabriel never allowed her to mingle with anyone who wasn't of importance in his eyes during her internship, including his own son.
"Fashion designers are the architects of elegance and vision. While others may see mere fabric, we see a canvas for creating art that transcends time. Our creations don't just follow trends; they set the standard for what is considered beautiful. In our hands, style is not just about clothing—it's a reflection of power, influence, and the pinnacle of human creativity.
However, models are the living mannequins that bring a designer's vision to life. They are the vessels through which our art is conveyed to the world. While they may add their own touch of elegance, their true purpose is to showcase the brilliance of the designs they wear. Without the artistry of the designer, a model is simply a figure; it is the clothing that transforms them into icons of style. Therefore, there is no need to consider their thoughts or feelings."
At the time, those words would drive her forward in the pursuit of his fashion. Had she known who Gabriel really was, who Noir really was, things might have been different. At least she felt that way. So, when he up and disappeared from the public eye over a year ago after Hawkmoth's defeat, no one could blame him. Marinette wanted to do the same. She burned any remnants of that dream she once had; she knew it made her parents feel disappointed, but she was tired of being perceived as another one of his "little fabric minions."
It was easier to be shunned if you were associated with a villain, but when you're the villain's son, it's much worse.
It's safe to say that Adrien didn't disappear into a life of terror. Marinette purposely chose to omit the fact that she couldn't save everyone as Ladybug. She thought about him from time to time but never bothered looking for him. Why would she look for him? To wallow in pity together? To call him selfish and ignorant?
Then why was his poster still up on her wall?
Chat. He wasn't particularly himself after they defeated him. In fact, he hadn't been himself for a while leading up to the night of the big fight. Tikki saw that; she told Marinette.
Marinette. Ladybug. She didn't listen.
The teen buried her face in her knees as tears struck down onto her pink pajama pants.
"I can't be the hero Paris needs me to be, Marinette. Everyone I knew already turned their backs on me. It's only natural. So, when the world finally finds out about me, they will turn their backs on Chat Noir too."
She just couldn't accept that it was him. The Chat Noir she knew held his ground, yet there he was, scrambling with his tail between his legs before her.
He couldn't be Chat Noir. He wasn't the one who told her to be more helpful with the family bakery when she felt like the light of her muse fizzled out with his disappearance. He wasn't the one who listened to her mundane high school ramblings about her peers' inability to understand her. He wasn't the one who asked her to be by his side as his Ladybug.
He was a coward! The jester who fooled her into being his friend and failed her as a mentor. Adrien never deserved to be Chat Noir.
Marinette picked up one of the boxes and threw it against the wall, letting the earring roll across the wooden floor.
And then there was Tikki. A traitor in her eyes. A false friend. She just floated there above his head, nodding to every single word out of his mouth. The betrayal was bittersweet.
"I'm passing my guardianship onto you," he told her as he placed his black ring in a black box and gently placed it into the palm of her hand. "Please take care of it."
She looked down at the box and then back at him. It was preposterous to her. So, she did the only thing she hated to do. She ran.
That was the end of them. He said he was moving to New York to "find a change in pace," and in her shattered heart, it meant he was abandoning the city to her hands, leaving her to pick up the pieces he couldn't. He abandoned himself. The illusive Chat Noir was now but a distant memory. To Marinette, it meant there wasn't any more support for the Miraculous Ladybug to give.
As she ran out of the mansion and onto the cold streets, Tikki would only tell her to go back. She didn't want to. She didn't want to listen to the kwami either. So, she did the unthinkable. She removed her left earring, watching the petrified look of terror on the kwami's face as her body became translucent. And when Tikki begged her to stop and listen, the right earring came off too. That was the end of Ladybug as well.
Looking down at the earrings, she felt guilt. She stood up from her rotating chair and squatted to pick up the black and red earrings, carefully placing them back in the box.
"I'm sorry, Tikki, I didn't mean to do that to you," she whispered. "But I can't be Ladybug anymore."
She looked at the wall, where Adrien's poster still faced her.
"I want to do things my way now," she said, ripping the poster off from the top left corner. "I just want my Chat Noir to live on, with or without Adrien."
She headed back to her desk, picked up the other box, and opened its lid. Holding the cat and ladybug miraculous side by side, her thoughts began to ponder.
If the black cat couldn't believe in himself, she needed to believe in the Marinette who believed in Chat Noir.
