Control (Miraculous Ladybug)

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Just a day later, she was on her way. Her parents had given her a reaction she couldn't really understand; they'd obviously been shocked, and then . . . just started talking. A lot. Asking random questions, telling her to be careful . . . and then giving her a bunch of food for the trip. The upsides of living in a bakery.

Master Fu was right; her journey didn't take long: only about half a day. When she finally arrived in the snowy country, she found the nearest little town, which seemed deserted at first glance. As she entered, however, several natives emerged from the shops and their homes, staring at the red-suited superheroine in amazement. "That's Ladybug from France," she heard some whisper.

"Bonjour—I mean, hello," she greeted them awkwardly, then snatched back her usual confidence and cleared her throat. "I'm looking for . . . a mage?"

Silence reigned at first. Then, several of them pointed to a smaller shop at the end of the road, which had a little Asian sign hanging from above the door and purplish curtains hanging on the inside.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, bowing slightly as an accostumed action she was used to, being half-Chinese. Then, taking a deep breath to settle her wildy-flying nerves, she rushed for the shop and ducked inside.

An older man was sitting at a table across the cozy room, which was lit only by firelight. He glanced up from his reading at the door's opening, and blinked in surprise when he saw the girl standing there. Rising hastily, he clasped his palms together and bowed slightly in greeting. "Greetings, mademoiselle. May I be of assistance?"

"Yes, sir, thank you." She returned the subtle dip of her head, then stepped forward and looked urgently into his eyes. "You've heard of the miraculouses for the kwamis, right?"

A new look came into the mage's eyes at her words, something like amazement and recognition combined. "Yes," he replied quickly. "You have one. The miraculous and kwami of good luck."

"Yes." She smiled in relief. "I do. But . . . for the black cat . . ."

He straightened a little. "What about it?"

After a long pause, she drew in another long breath before explaining, "It's been destroyed. In result, according to a guardian I know, the kwami has been trapped in space again, and the holder is frozen in time. I was recommended to come here and request the creation of a new one to bring them back. I can't defend Paris on my own. Even though that's not the only reason . . ." The last line was in a much quieter tone, so he couldn't hear it.

". . . So you want me to create another miraculous for the kwami of misfortune and destruction," the mage said at last.

"Yes," she replied instantly. "He uses it for good with me; you've heard of my partner, Chat Noir? We're Parisians."

"That's why you look familiar." He grinned. "You're Ladybug. I've heard lots of reports about you, especially from something called . . ." He paused. "The LadyBlog?"

"Yeah." She laughed. "That'd be it. Anyway . . . you can make one, right?"

"Of course," he answered, drowning her in relief for good at his reassurance. "It's just a bit of a process."

"How long will it take?"

"About a day or two." He frowned, thinking. "I have to summon the kwami first. Then create the miraculous. After that, the holder will reappear."

She liked how he said "will" instead of "should."

"That's fine, I can wait." In truth, she felt ready to burst out of her skin with impatience, dying to see him again. To talk with him again. To be with him again. "Would it be alright if I waited here, though? In your shop?"

"Of course. I have an extra room in the back. You can stay there, and I'll have my maid bring you meals and tend to your needs."

Maid?

"Th-thank you very much, sir." She stood up as he called a girl into the room, who was surprisingly around her age. The man rose and walked into a smaller, enclosed area as the young girl nodded politely to the guest, then took her gently by the arm and led her to a furnished room in the back of the shop. As she sat down on the sofa with a long sigh to help sink in what was really about to happen, the girl pointed out a bell on a small table and said quietly, "Ring this if you need anything."

"Thank you," she responded gratefully, and the girl, with a quick flash of surprise on her face, bowed slightly and left.

Smiling, Ladybug looked at the bell sitting on the table. It reminded her even more of her Kitty; he'd had a golden bell at his neck as part of his costume. In ways, it kind of showed that he wasn't quite the rough tough guy some Parisians thought he was. True, he was strong, a stunning fighter and fencer, and stubborn when he wanted to be, but being closer to him than anyone else, she'd seen his other sides, too. He had a softer, gentler side that he tended to show more often when they were alone, which she regretted taking for granted all the time before she'd realized the truth. But really, he was fun to be around, and, she remembered, had an uncanny desire to just be with people. She recalled now that almost all the times she'd been dealing with reporters and such, he'd been off at the sidelines, talking to the victims and giving them reassurance. She also remembered getting a warm fuzzy feeling when that victim was a child. Something about seeing him show his extra-friendly, playful side with young ones . . . it made her smile.

A soft knock at the doorpost startled her out of her thoughts. Glancing over, she realized that the servant girl was standing there, watching her intently. "Forgive me, miss," she said quickly, "but may I ask you some things?"

"Of course." She smiled widely and gestured for the young girl to come inside and sit with her. "What it it?"

"I . . ." She sat down, somewhat nervously, then asked, "Who is it you're trying to bring back?"

Her smile grew. "His name's Chat Noir. He was my fighting partner back in Paris. Something . . ." She took a reassuring breath at the unpleasant memories filling her head at her own words, then continued, "Something bad happened, and I thought I'd lost him. But I just recently discovered there's a way to bring him back. So your master is helping me with that."

Curiosity replaced the thin veil of fear in the girl's expression. "It's a boy . . . Is he your loved one?"

Ladybug's grin returned. "Yeah, he is. I . . . I didn't realize it at first, since there was . . . Well, it's hard to explain, but yes. He was actually in love with me for a long time, but I didn't really think much of it. I didn't think he was serious when he was. But I know that now." In ways, this almost felt like she was talking to Alya, considering the subject, even though it was actually a foreign girl.

The girl tilted her head slightly. "That's interesting," she said at last. "Will I be able to meet him?"

"Yes," she replied, the thought increasing her excitement even more.

"Thank you very much, miss." The maid stood up quickly. "I must return to my duties now. Thank you for talking to me. I don't usually get to talk to anyone."

"Then consider Chat Noir and I your new friends," she answered warmly, and once again, her own words surprised her in a good way. She was referring to Chat in normal terms again. Talking about him like he was still there with her.

He will be. In just a day or two.

And even though that time seemed to take longer than it was, it did eventually end. When the mage entered her room and announced, "It's ready," she almost jumped a mile high in anticipation. It wasn't until she stood up, however, that she realized she was about to discover his identity. He'd detransformed before she'd smashed the ring. Which meant that when he'd been frozen in time, it was as his civilian form. So that was how she'd see him. And for the first time, she wondered if she actually knew him already in normal life. It would certainly be an interesting experience if it turned out he was. So when she walked quickly into the little enclosed area, ready to see her Kitty again for the first time in three months, for the first time without his mask, she got an unexpected, extremely pleasant surprise.