Miraculous Ladybug: Season Six | Part One

Chapter Fourteen: Now What?

Chat Noir's / Adrien's POV
  I look over to Ladybug as the reporters come swarming in, asking questions that only she could answer. She looks flustered and almost nervous at the sudden crowd of people. I grab her by her waist, "Sorry, everyone, now is not the time," I announced, pushing down on my staff jolting us into the sky. "I could've gotten out of there myself, Chat." She mutters as I lean my weight toward a building rooftop. I let her go and glared at her, "What do you mean you could've gotten out of there? You were practically paralyzed!" I argued, sitting down facing the Eiffel Tower, peering at us from a distance. She scoffs, crossing her arms, "Yeah, and? I still had the ability to swing out of there." She growls, balling up her fists. I watch her with my mouth agape, "What's wrong with you, Ladybug? I haven't seen you this stressed since Monarch stole the miraculouses." I reply gently, letting my legs dangle off the roof. She sits a few feet away from me on the edge of the roof, staring out towards the city's streets. "I don't know, Chat. I still can't tell you anything about Monarch, and I'm truly sorry about that. We have more important things on our hands aside from who he was." She stammered, looking down at her hands in her lap. I sigh; I know she's hiding it from me for a good reason. "Alright, let's not talk about him then. We need to do something about all of these attacks. There's been two within the last 48 hours. That's more frequent than Monarch ever was." I began changing the topic to avoid upsetting her even more than I already had. She winced, closing her eyes, "We need to start patrolling again, I know. There's just not enough time in the day for both of us to keep watch and do whatever we do in our daily lives," she acknowledged opening her eyes again, focusing on me.
  I think momentarily, "You gave all those people their miraculouses back; why don't you entrust them enough to fight with us and help us patrol." I recommend, honestly, that she is confused about why she hasn't been calling for reinforcement more often lately. She looks away from me, "Yeah, I guess that would work. I just don't want whoever is in control of the butterfly miraculous thinking we've become weaker," she responds quietly, barely above a whisper. I felt my eyes widen, "Weak? Do you think we became weaker because we started using other holders of the miraculouses? Isn't the whole point of this supposed to be teamwork?" I snap, standing up; I can feel my face heating up. She looks up at me with wide eyes, "That is NOT at all what I meant, Chat Noir." She spat, standing up to look at me directly in my eyes. "It sounds like you're implying I make you weak as well; what exactly did you mean," I mutter, staring right back into her eyes. She turns away, looking over at the sunset, "I guess what I mean our enemy can pick out our weaknesses easily if we need reinforcements. Say we both together can't defeat a villain, so I call Rena Rouge or someone to the equivalent. Whoever they are will realize if they make the same type of villain out of the victim, but stronger, they have a higher probability of winning." She explains, moving her hands in the wind. I shake my head, "You shouldn't think about it like that; it only makes us all stronger. We learn from our past mistakes and experiences." I whisper, touching her shoulder from behind. She turns around, looking up at me, "Chat, I-" She stutters, shaking her head and changing her wording, "I'll call for a meeting." She finishes. I nod without saying another word to her and jolt off the roof towards my house.

I land in the bushes outside of my house and detransform. And walk in like I just ran back from school from detention. I opened the heavy doors and was greeted by Nathalie. "Hello, Adrien. Welcome home. We need to talk." She states without a single expression on her face. I sigh, "Alright," walking with her to the kitchen where Amelie is cooking. "Oh, Adrien! Welcome home; now, what would you prefer, bouillabaisse or foie gras?" She smiles, turning around with her apron pulled tightly around her waste. I stand there frozen, thinking. Gross foie gras... "I guess bouillabaisse is fine, just not too heavy on the basil," I plead, remembering how much she loves basil in her tomato soups. She nods and turns away, "Was that all?" I ask, looking over at Nathalie, who is now sitting at the kitchen island. "No, why were you in detention." She demanded and answered, "I'm not going to reprimand you, seeing that is not my place; however, I would still like to know why." She confirms, looking through her tablet. "I stood up for Marinette in class when she was punished; therefore, I was punished too." I shrug; it indeed wasn't significant enough to have a whole sit-down chat about, not to mention it wasn't even a big deal to receive a punishment in the first place. Nathalie nods, "I figured it had something with her. Are you two happy?" She inquired; this was the actual reason why she was asking, so I would talk about Marinette. I blush, "Uh, yeah. We're great, why?" I stammer slowly, sitting down in the nearest barstool to her. She stares at me, attempting to read my soul, I assume. She nods and looks over at Amelie, who is now adding the basil. God, please stop; that's waaaay too much, Aunt.