(See the end of the chapter for notes .)

Chapter Text

Plagg was a divine being, the literal manifestation of misfortune, the god of bad luck. He’d lived for several millennia and he’d been on every piece of habitable land this world had to offer. He’d witnessed the aeons pass, the development of the human race, the rise and fall of mighty empires and monarchies, the revolutions of nations and states, the birth and death of millions, perhaps billions. He’d been with tens – perhaps a little over a hundred – of Miraculous hosts by now, and all were unique and brilliant in their own right (though he never admitted that).

And one thing never changed; every one of them came down to this, sooner or later. He sighed as he turned to face his Chosen.

Adrien Agreste sat across him on his room’s sofa, legs spread and planted firmly on the floor, his hands clasped together. His face was stern, and his gaze piercing. His emerald eyes seemed to stare straight into Plagg’s soul, though he didn’t have one.

“Plagg,” he said coolly, in a strict and matter-of-fact tone.

“Y-Yes?” the kwami muttered. It was hard for him not to do so when the table he was resting on was quite literally decked with little wheels of camembert – some young, some aged more so than others, and all smelling deliciously strong, mushroomy and fragrant.

“You know who Ladybug is,” he began.

Plagg nodded.

“You saw her face when Dark Owl trapped us in the steel container,” he continued, almost like he was interrogating Plagg.

He swallowed and slowly nodded once more.

“So here’s the deal,” he stated, unwavering eyes offering no compromises. “You tell me who she is, and this table is all yours.”

“And if I refuse?” Plagg crossed his arms.

“Then I’ll feed you with breadcrumbs and Kraft Singles for the rest of your life,” he waved his hand and leaned back into the sofa. “So which’ll it be?”

Plagg winced at the thought. He hated Kraft Singles. He couldn’t stand the taste of stale processed cheese – it had this peculiar effect on him – it tasted appalling, and yet simultaneously made him long for real cheese since the yellow slices had some semblance – as little as it might be – of the taste of cheese. It was horrifying.

“I-I told you, you can’t bribe me,” he stuttered. He took a deep breath, hovered into the air, and flew straight to the bathroom scouring its tiled floor – there it was, the dirty sock basket, where he could find temporary refuge. He crashed into it headfirst, letting out a satisfied purr. But as he breathed in the air, he paused. Something was wrong. It smelled… clean. Odourless. The revolting smell of fresh lavender-scented detergent wafted into his nose.

Adrien looked Plagg straight in the eye. “Everything in this room is clean. The only odour comes from the table,” he jabbed a finger at the camembert.

Plagg stared back at Adrien, the look of disappointment and shock evident after his partner’s cruel betrayal. Having no other option, the kwami drifted back to the table, the overwhelming earthy aroma tempting Plagg with every passing second.

“Okay,” Adrien’s kwami conceded. “You want to know who Ladybug is.”

Adrien nodded vigorously.

“I know who she is. In fact, I’ve known since the start,” he drawled on lazily.

“Yes, I figured,” he snapped impatiently, and leaned in towards Plagg. “Now hurry up and spill the beans.”

“Uh-uh, I’m not done,” Plagg raised a finger, and Adrien clenched his teeth in frustration. “Now, let’s make it clear. I know who she is. You know I know who she is. And you want me to tell you who she is.”

Adrien’s fists were clenched, for his patience was running thin, and Plagg absolutely knew how to get on his nerves. If all cats were like this, he thought, he’d never get one in his life. He nodded, shooting Plagg a glare that urged him to stop beating about the bush.

“But here’s the thing,” Plagg floated up to face Adrien at eye level. “Do you want to know who she is?”

Adrien frowned. “What do you mean? Of course I do!”

“No,” Plagg corrected. “What I mean is, do you really want to know who she is?”

His brow furrowed even further. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Think about it,” Plagg explained. “I can tell you who Ladybug is. And you’d go off jumping about Paris trying to find her.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” he mumbled, but Plagg knew he was right, and he loved it when he knew he was right. A small smirk crept its way on Plagg’s lips.

“So you go off and find her, and let’s say you discover who she really is,” Plagg went on. “What if she’s nothing like you expected?”

“My feelings won’t change, Plagg,” he stood up and waved at arm at him in protest. “Nothing will.”

“You humans are the only thing that never changes,” Plagg huffed. “All the previous Chat Noirs tried to look for Ladybug, and they refuse to ever believe anything bad can happen. Let’s be honest, this is just a massive blind date. Would you trust your dad to set you up on one?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. He looked at Plagg for a few moments before finally opening his mouth again, “No.”

“Then why do you trust me to send you on one?”

“It’s not a blind date, Plagg,” Adrien sighed in exasperation. “Firstly, I already know what she’s like, I just don’t know her identity. Secondly, I already like her.”

“You may not,” mused Plagg, “after you get to really know her.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Adrien protested. “It’s just a mask! She can’t be all that different underneath!”

“And how do you know that?”

There was a brief moment of silence. Plagg watched his Chosen as his brain went into overdrive, carefully trying to form a response.

“Well,” he looked at Plagg, “I’m still the same person underneath the mask.” He was poised confidently, an air of firmness around him, but all models knew how to put on that image, and Plagg effortlessly sensed the uncertainty in his voice.

“The same?” Plagg wrinkled his nose. “I don’t recall Adrien Agreste setting up rooftop candlelight dinners for his crush.”

Adrien gritted his teeth and his face turned a shade of crimson. “You know what I mean, Plagg.”

“And what if she isn’t Ladybug underneath the mask?”

“Plagg, I’m sure she is,” Adrien argued. “Maybe as her normal self she’s a little less like Ladybug. Maybe she’s a bit awkward or clumsy. But she’s Ladybug all the same.”

“And what if she isn’t?”

Adrien rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation. “Plagg, if I succumb to every ‘what if’ you say, I’ll never meet Ladybug!”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, Adrien!” Plagg retorted. “You should never meet her!”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Plagg breathed in. “Use your brain, Adrien! You only see the superhero side of Ladybug. You hold her up on a pedestal. You’re going to have that image shattered, and you won’t be able to work with her,” he snapped.

Adrien was absolutely stunned. Plagg had never raised his voice, not even once, no matter the cause. In the direst of emergencies, he would still be a sleazy black cat; whenever Adrien did something stupid, he’d just chuckle sarcastically. Gaping at Plagg, he could only a muster a soft “That’s not true,” though it was more aimed towards himself in self-reassurance than at Plagg.

“It’s not worth it,” Plagg continued, “to have Paris’ defence against Hawkmoth ruined just because some boy wanted to meet his crush.”

There was a tense silence in the air. Adrien looked downcast, defeated, trodden, because he knew precisely that Plagg was right. He was speculating too much, Adrien desperately thought as he tried to convince himself his kwami was wrong. Everything Plagg said was just a slippery slope, a logical fallacy. He wasn’t right. He couldn’t be.

Adrien sighed. He collapsed back onto the sofa. Plagg hovered down to face him. “Well, I’m assuming these are all free game now,” he said as he dived towards the table and began to devour the wheels of camembert.

He stared up at the starry, dazzling night sky through his window panes. He thought of Ladybug. He thought about how desperately he wanted to meet her. He thought about how his sole goal in life – Ladybug – seemed so distant, so unreachable, so far, like the stars in the sky.

Plagg, sensing his Chosen’s sorrow, drifted up to rest on his shoulder. “I know how it feels like,” he sighed. “I want to meet Tikki too. But I can’t always see her. And I have to accept that it’s for the better. ”

Adrien’s gaze didn’t falter, nor did he offer any reply to his kwami. He contemplated Plagg’s words. Was it really a good idea to seek Ladybug out? Did he really want to know?

He didn’t know.

Marinette sighed as she crashed down on her swivel chair, swinging around, while Tikki flew circles above her head. She kicked at the floor and pushed her chair towards her computer and stared at the screen. The perfect, impeccable image of Adrien Agreste – her wallpaper – peered back at her.

“What’s wrong, Marinette?” Tikki chirped.

“Nothing,” she drawled dejectedly as she rested her face on her arms, propped up on the table. “It’s just… Adrien.”

Her kwami frowned. “What do you mean? Nothing happened at school today! And you’ve been getting better at talking to him. He enjoys being your friend.”

Marinette looked up at her kwami levitating over her head. “You know that’s not what I want, Tikki. I want him to like me. As in, love me.”

“You can’t possibly make him fall for you instantly,” Tikki hovered down to face her directly. “Don’t worry! He’ll fall for you eventually.”

Typical Tikki – always full of encouragement, full of nothing but good advice. But even her usual consolations and Marinette’s typical cheerful optimism couldn’t bring her spirits up. She slumped down on her table, her eyes tracing and following the wooden veneer.

“It’s just…” she trailed off, racking her brain and trying to find the words. “It’s taking too long. I’ve tried and tried, and he only sees me as a friend. What if he never likes me? What if nothing happens in the end?”

“Like I said, it isn’t that easy, Marinette. I’m sure he’ll come to see how wonderful you are. You’re so helpful and kind, he’s bound to come to his senses!”

Marinette let out a small smile, and her eyes met Tikki’s. “Thanks for the encouragement, Tikki.”

Her kwami momentarily smiled back in reply, but she caught how her eyes still looked so downcast and distant. Something else was bugging her Chosen. “Is there something else on your mind, Marinette?”

“No,” her words dripped with dishonesty. “I’m fine.”

Tikki scowled. “Marinette, it’s not good to keep things bottled up. Tell me.”

Marinette stared back down at her table, contemplating whether or not to open up to her for a few seconds – then she decided, if she couldn’t trust her kwami, she couldn’t trust anyone else, could she? She breathed in and looked at Tikki.

“Okay, Tikki. It sounds weird, but… I’m not sure if Adrien is right for me after all.”

Tikki cocked her head sideways in confusion. “What do you mean? You’ve been going after him for so long now!”

Marinette leaned back into her chair, looking up at the ceiling with gloom in her eyes. “I don’t know. He’s just so… withdrawn. I can’t ever seem to have a heartfelt conversation with him.”

“But you talk to him all the time, Marinette!” Tikki protested. “He smiles at you, he laughs with you. He really is your friend.”

“The smile isn’t real, Tikki. He always smiles, always tries to look fine and all… but he’s not. He hides behind that smile. I don’t know him well enough. What if he isn’t how I expected him to be at all? What if I peel away that façade of his and we can’t get along?”

There was a silence from Tikki – not because she was particularly shocked by Marinette’s words, but rather because she knew her Chosen was right. Adrien never was one to open up, was he? And the risk that he may not have been who Marinette thought he was; that was a very real fear indeed, and completely justifiable. For once, her tongue failed her, as she tried her best to think of a response.

Five seconds passed – then six, then seven. It took no fewer than ten seconds for Tikki to formulate a reply. She gently hovered down to Marinette’s cheek and nuzzled it affectionately.

“Marinette,” Tikki said firmly. “You’ll never know if you don’t try. Maybe he’s different in actual fact. But I don’t think he is. Be confident, Marinette! You’re Ladybug. You can do anything. It doesn't matter if he isn't who you think he is. You'll just move on. You'll find someone else. I believe in you.”

Marinette looked back at Tikki with pleading – almost desperate – eyes. “Really? You think so?”

Tikki nodded assuredly. “Yes, I do.”

She smiled; this time it was far more genuine than the last. “Thanks Tikki. I really appreciate it. I really do.”

Tikki grinned and nuzzled her cheek yet again. She flew towards her computer screen and shut it off. “Go to sleep, Marinette. It’ll do you some good.”

She nodded in agreement, walked over to the other side of her room and flicked the light switch off, climbed up the steps and fell into the comfortable depths of her mattress and comforter and pillows. Tikki snuggled up next to her and fell fast asleep.

Marinette’s eyes were wide open, however; she stared at the ceiling and couldn’t seem to lull herself to sleep. Tikki’s words had helped a little. Yet she couldn’t shake off her unease. Her eyes moved towards the glass trapdoor above her and she gazed at the stars above, looking so distant and unreachable, like the true Adrien Agreste. She contemplated Tikki’s words. Was it a good idea, after all? To pursue him and seek him out? Did she really want to know?

She didn’t know.