Marichat Monday -- Volume 1

Chapter 4

Marinette stood leaning on her railing. The city was beautiful tonight, but that's not what she was admiring. The moon had just peeked from behind a cloud. It was a full moon, and it looked especially beautiful tonight. She was entranced, unable to take her eyes away from the sight as her mind ran uncontrollably through her memories.

She was brought back to the time when Chat Noir had invited her to a rooftop romantic evening. She really didn't know how she could have been so blind to his true feelings for her.

He was so sweet. Sure, his attempt at jokes and puns had been pitiful, but she longed for them even now. She had even become attached to his names for her. She was his bugaboo—his lady.

Now all she wanted was for things to be simpler. If only she could understand why she was falling for him and not Adrien or Luka. This was truly unexpected.

And what was she to do? Isn't it too dangerous for them to be in a relationship together because they were Paris's heroes?

She didn't know.

She continued to stare at the moon for answers, but no answers would come.

. . .

Chat Noir ran along the rooftops, launching himself from roof to roof. There didn't appear to be any threats. All was quiet for now.

"That's probably a good thing," Chat Noir said to himself.

He looked towards the rooftop on which he had arranged a romantic evening for his lady that night so long ago. All the memories began to flood back to him as he landed on that rooftop, threatening to pull him into a trance as he was brought back to that night.

"It's beautiful, Chat Noir," she said, admiring the romantic scene he'd arranged.

"Aren't you glad you finally came?" he asked.

"Listen," she began, staring off into the distance, trying to formulate how to break it to him. "I don't want to play around with your feelings. It would be the same as lying to you, and I don't want to do that," she said, facing him and looking into his eyes. "You're more than a partner, Chat Noir. You're my friend, and I'd never want to lie to a friend."

"Why do you think it would be lying?"

"Because . . . there's this boy—I . . ." she trailed—

Something grabbed Chat Noir's attention, snapping him back into reality.

It was Marinette on her balcony, leaning on the railing, staring into the distance.

"Wow," she gasped in Chat Noir's sudden flashback. "Chat Noir! This is . . . beautiful!" she exclaimed, admiring the scene he'd arranged for his lady.

"I'm . . . so sorry," she said, looking away.

"Why? It's not your fault," he said, slumping over the railing.

"No—Yeah—I mean—" she stuttered.

"What I mean is . . . I'm very sorry for you . . . cuz—um—you prepared all this . . . and then . . . she didn't show . . ."

Chat Noir stood there stunned. He didn't know why his heart was going crazy when he stared at Marinette. "Marinette always tries to help everyone around her. Even when we were both heartbroken, she still tried to cheer me up, regardless of whoever made her feel that way," he silently told himself, gasping at his sudden realization. "What if," he began, wide-eyed. "What if . . . Luka was the one who broke her heart?"

"No, Luka would never do that," he told himself. "unless—Marinette had told him that she loved him only to realize that Luka liked someone else! Luka would never want to break her heart, but it's possible that he was in love with someone else and no one knew it yet," he reasoned.

"No wonder she fell for me!" Chat Noir gasped at his second revelation. "We both connected over our shared heartbreak that night!"

He felt so guilty for having to reject her that day. Everything made sense to him now. It's no surprise that she ran upstairs sobbing. She had fallen for me, and badly too. When her father was akumatized because of her pain, she realized that she needed to overcome the heartache and show her typical Marinette strength to protect her Dad's feelings. It must have been so hard to fake being emotionally strong when she was still so heartbroken over the rejection.

It made him feel all the more sorrowful for having to reject her. "She must still be thinking about it," he thought. "I've got to make it up to her," he whispered to himself.