Chapter Text
Today’s the day.
Early morning sunlight trickled into Adrien’s bedroom. He was up early, much earlier than normal, but Adrien’s plans for today required him to be awake before anyone came to check on him.
With his hands and ear pressed against the door, Adrien listened intently for anything out of the ordinary. He’d only been in Paris for a few weeks now, but he’d already learned the sounds his new home made. He could recognize the way the floor creaked when his bodyguard was standing outside, the faint conversations of the house staff as they performed their duties, the clicking of Nathalie's heels as she managed his father's company. He'd even learned to listen for the unnatural silence that constantly emanated from his father's office, even when he had guests.
For now, though, the house was quiet. Peaceful. Still.
Show time.
Quietly tiptoeing across the room to his wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, Adrien glanced at his reflection. Golden blonde hair framed a boyish face that would soon be plastered on billboards across the city. He wore a white jacket pulled over his favorite black t-shirt, with a pair of jeans and sneakers completing the look. Bright green eyes stared back at him, ones that belonged to someone else…
Adrien looked away, trying to push down the unpleasant feelings as he reached up and unlocked the latch holding one of the windows in place. The glass swung open with a high-pitched squeak, cutting through the silence of the house. Adrien winced, holding his breath as he glanced towards the door.
One second passed, then another…
The door stayed closed.
Adrien exhaled.
The morning air was warm, raising goosebumps on Adrien’s skin as he felt the sun’s rays caress his face. Gazing out into the city beyond, Adrien’s resolve hardened.
He was doing this. He was going to school.
Hoisting his schoolbag onto his shoulder, Adrien carefully climbed up onto the window’s ledge and peered down at the drop below. Carefully manicured bushes lined the wall about a meter or so beneath him. They were dotted with white roses, hydrangeas and lilies at the request of his father. Neatly trimmed grass stretched between the house and the wrought iron fence that wrapped around the property. The spires cast long, dark shadows against the mansion that resembled scratches from a cat’s claws.
“Here we go…” Adrien murmured, steeling himself as his feet slipped from his perch.
The fall was short, but exhilarating. The bushes cushioned his fall, tiny sticks and leaves getting caught in his hair and clothes as he scrambled to free himself. Brushing off his shirt and running his fingers through his hair, Adrien ran across the lawn to the iron fence that separated him from the rest of Paris.
Tossing his bag over first, Adrien winced as it landed on the sidewalk with a heavy thud. Why was everything so noisy this morning?
Casting a quick glance back at his open window, Adrien gripped the black metal bars and pulled himself up.
The iron was slicker than Adrien expected, and he quickly lost his grip and fell back to the ground. His shoes squeaked as he leaped back to his feet, and after a few more failed attempts Adrien managed to reach the top of the fence. Using his hands to support his weight, Adrien carefully maneuvered himself over the pointed tips of the fence and dropped down to the sidewalk below.
Landing on his feet, Adrien pulled his bag over his shoulder and pulled out his phone. He’d been able to get out of the house without anyone noticing, and as long as he was able to enroll in school before anyone realized he was missing-
“Adrien! What are you doing out there!?”
Adrien whipped his head around, eyes immediately landing on the person standing at his open window. She wore a dark pantsuit, and her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Her icy gaze was fixed on Adrien through her thin glasses, and the expression on her face was one of shock and outrage.
Nathalie Sancœur, his father’s personal assistant.
Merde.
Turning on his heel, Adrien sprinted away from the house and down the street, hearing a distant commotion behind him as Nathalie undoubtedly began to give chase. As the wind rippled through his hair, Adrien laughed as he felt something he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Freedom.
“Marinette, get up! You’re going to be late for school! Again!”
Marinette’s eyes flew open, immediately being blinded by the harsh sunlight glaring through her open skylight. She bolted upright, white spots dancing across her vision as her limbs became hopelessly tangled in fabric. Blinking to regain her vision, panic set in as Marinette spotted the clock sitting on her bedside shelf. The numbers stared back at her, watching with digital judgement as she realized that which she feared the most.
She was late.
“Gah!” Marinette cried, her body slipping off the edge of her mattress and sending her tumbling down the ladder from her loft onto the floor below. Pain flared across her hip and down her leg as she gasped from the impact.
Great job, Marinette, Marinette thought as she rolled over with a groan, clutching her side as she kicked at the blanket that still entangled her legs. Start the day by falling out of bed. That’s original.
“Marinette?” her mom called from below, her voice muffled as it came through the closed trapdoor that separated Marinette’s bedroom from the rest of her house. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, maman,” Marinette shouted, pulling herself up and nursing her throbbing leg. “I’m fine!”
“Okay, sweetheart,” her mom replied. “School starts soon, so hurry and get dressed!”
“Coming!”
Favoring her left side, Marinette limped over to her closet and began searching for something to wear. Choosing a sensible outfit of pink jeans, a black blazer and a white undershirt, Marinette pulled her short, dark hair into twin pigtails as she hunted for a pair of shoes. A few moments later, Marinette bounded downstairs with a pair of black flats in hand. Pulling her shoes on, Marinette kissed her mother on the cheek as she settled at the kitchen counter.
“Morning, maman.”
“Good morning, băobèi,” her mom said, giving her a warm smile before eyeing her with a concerned look. “Are you alright? I heard a noise and thought-”
“I’m fine, maman,” Marinette interrupted, giving her mom a sheepish smile. “I, uh, fell out of bed…”
“Again?” Her mother asked, shaking her head as a wry smile spread across her face. “Maybe if you went to bed earlier, this wouldn’t keep happening.”
“My alarm didn’t go off!” Marinette said defensively, accepting the plate of fruit and yogurt her mom set in front of her. “Besides, we live right next to school. I’ll make it.”
“You'd better,” her mom said, giving Marinette a pointed look. “I don’t want my daughter failing all her classes because she’d stayed up all night designing-”
“Maman-”
Marinette ate her breakfast in record time. Dropping her empty plate in the sink, Marinette hugged her mom goodbye as she dashed out of the room. Taking the stairs two at a time, Marinette barged into the bakery kitchen.
“Woah!” her dad cried, stumbling out of Marinette’s way as he balanced a tray of pastries above her.
“Sorry papa!” Marinette called, dashing out of the kitchen and into the bakery beyond.
“Don’t forget to flip the sign on your way out!”
“Okay!”
Unlocking the front door and flipping the sign on the glass from Closed to Open, Marinette squeezed her way past the small line of customers that were waiting outside. Her parents’ bakery had a reputation as one of the best in the city, and its central location meant that they were almost always busy.
Tearing across the small side street that separated her home from her school, Marinette glanced upwards at collège Francoise Dupont as she dashed towards the school. The sidewalk in front of the entrance was barren, and Marinette hoped that the final bell hadn’t rung yet to signal the start of class. If she made it inside and got to Mme. Bustier’s classroom before then, she could-
“Let it go, you old geezer!”
Marinette skidded to a stop, looking beyond the school’s entrance towards the source of the shout. There, at the far corner of the building, a hooded figure was grappling with a short, elderly man over…something. Marinette squinted her eyes, stepping closer as she tried to get a better look.
The old man cried out, slipping and falling backwards as the hooded person ripped the thing out of his hands and started running.
Straight towards her.
Something in Marinette snapped into focus. Without thinking, she swept her foot out and tripped the hooded person as they ran past, sending them sprawling onto the ground with a surprised yelp as something long and thin flew out of their hands.
Quickly snatching the cane, Marinette warily backed away as the hooded person got to their feet. Narrowing her eyes and holding the cane threateningly, Marinette watched as the hooded person hesitated, clearly weighing their options before they turned and disappeared down into a nearby metro station. Marinette breathed, the adrenaline leaving her system just as quickly as it came. On shaky legs, Marinette backed into the wall of the school as it hit her what she just did.
She attacked someone. To stop a crime, sure, but still.
The cane felt cold in her hands, and as she studied its worn, wooden length, she tried to remember what, exactly, had caused her to intervene. She’d been running to school, heard a shout, saw that guy fighting-
The old man.
On wobbly legs for the second time that morning, Marinette stumbled over to where the elderly man was still seated on the ground. He was short, even more than her, which surprised her. Marinette wasn’t exactly tall, and while she would adamantly argue that she wasn’t short either, she rarely came across someone shorter than she was.
“Are you okay?” Marinette asked.
He blinked, staring at her outstretched hand before turning his attention to her face. Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. His eyes seemed old, much older than he appeared, and there was a darkness there, the kind that made her breath hitch and her knees buckle.
“...yes,” he said after a moment, his voice a deep baritone that sounded like it hadn’t been used in quite some time. “Thank you, young lady. You were very brave.”
Marinette flushed, heat rising to her face as she helped the man to his feet. “I-uh…” she stammered, “I just…thought it was the right thing to do…”
Truth be told, Marinette wasn’t really sure why she had decided to intervene, just that, in the moment, something inside her had compelled her to do something. It was unexpected, and it felt…good.
The man pierced her with his gaze once again, an unreadable smile spreading across his face. “Paris needs more people like you,” he said, dusting off his red shirt.
Marinette offered the man his cane, which he gratefully accepted. She was about to ask if he needed any help getting home when a loud ring cut through the air. Marinette’s eyes widened as her panic returned in full force.
The bell. School. You’re LATE.
“I have to go!” Marinette cried, tripping over herself as she raced back towards the school. “It was nice to meet you!”
As Marinette barged into the school, she didn’t notice as the elderly man stroked his goatee thoughtfully, nor did she hear him say, “Promising. Very promising...”
Today was not going how Adrien had planned.
His lungs burning as he raced through the unfamiliar streets of Paris, Adrien tightened his grip on his bag strap and risked a glance over his shoulder. A silver sedan tore onto the street a moment later, its tires squealing against the pavement as the car turned in Adrien’s direction. The tinted windows made it impossible to see who was behind the wheel, but Adrien didn’t need to see the driver to know who it was. There was only one person his father trusted in situations like these.
Adrien ducked down a narrow side street, relief flooding his chest as the school finally came into view. Collège Francoise Dupont was a squat, three-story rectangle made of sandstone topped with a blue cobblestone roof. Arched windows lined every wall, and a tasteful amount of foliage decorated the school’s main entrance. Adrien darted out of the side street and ran towards the school, the roar of the sedan’s engine flooding his ears. As he crossed the main road, a flash of something red out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.
There, halfway across the road, a short, elderly man in a bright red Hawaiian shirt was hobbling across the crosswalk leaning heavily on his cane. Dread gripped Adrien’s heart, and as he turned back towards the car, he realized what was about to happen.
The driver, a giant of a man that Adrien had fondly nicknamed “the Gorilla” when he was young, was speeding down the road directly towards him. His father had hired the Gorilla largely due to his laser-like focus on achieving whatever task was assigned to him, and right now, that focus was directed completely at him.
He wouldn’t see the old man until it was too late…
Adrien didn’t think, he just moved. Changing his direction, Adrien sprinted away from the school, running straight at the old man.
“Hey! Move! You have to move!”
The man stopped, both hands gripping his cane as he turned to look at Adrien. His eyes showed no fear, only confusion. He didn’t realize the danger he was in.
Adrien reached the man. He knew he didn’t have time to get both of them out of the way, he just had to hope his bodyguard wouldn’t run him over. Turning on his heel, Adrien spread his arms and braced for impact.
Time seemed to slow. The tires screamed as the Gorilla stomped on the brakes, but the car showed no signs of stopping. Adrien squeezed his eyes shut, planting his feet as he resolutely stood his ground.
Nice going, Adrien, he thought. First your mom dies, then you get ran over by your own bodyguard.
The road began to rumble as the car sped closer, its tires squealing louder until it was the only thing Adrien could hear. He sucked in a breath, tensing as he braced for impact.
…only, it never came.
A strong gust of wind blasted past him as the car roared by, the tires finally gaining traction as Adrien heard the vehicle came to a stop somewhere off to the side. Breathing shakily, Adrien slowly opened his eyes to see an empty street in front of him. Glancing towards the school, Adrien saw that the sedan had skidded to a stop a short distance away, dark tire tracks stretching towards him that showed just how close he had come to getting hit. The back door of the car opened, and a woman pulled herself out.
“Adrien!” Nathalie scolded shakily. “What were you thinking!?”
“Uhh…” Adrien said, realizing that he hadn’t been thinking. He had just seen the man and realized that he was going to-
A small tug on his school bag brought Adrien’s attention back to the man himself, who was watching Adrien with an unreadable expression.
“...thank you, young man,” the man said, his shaking hands tightly gripping this cane. “I do believe you just saved my life.”
Heat flooded Adrien’s face, but before he could think of anything to say, Nathalie appeared at his side.
“Sir, I am so sorry,” she apologized. “We didn’t see you until the last second-”
The man, who was significantly shorter than Adrien first realized, held up a hand as he studied Nathalie with the same neutral expression. “This young man is your son, I imagine?”
Nathalie flushed. “Um, no, sir. No sir. Adrien is the son of my boss, Gabriel. He snuck out this morning”-Nathalie gave him a frosty glare-“and his father was concerned for his safety. He tasked us with bringing him home.”
“Us?” the man inquired. He either didn’t notice or care that Nathalie hadn’t mentioned his father’s last name.
Nathalie gestured vaguely in the direction of the sedan, where the Gorilla stood behind the open driver’s side door.
“Ah, I see,” the man said, leaning forward on his cane. “Protecting a child is a noble act, but do take care not to endanger anyone else in the future, hmm?”
“Yes, sir,” Nathalie agreed, clamping down on Adrien’s shoulder with a vice-like grip. “If you require any sort of medical attention, please call this number. Any treatment you receive will be compensated for.”
Nathalie handed the old man a business card, but before he could say anything else she began herding Adrien back towards the car. Guilt and shame weighed heavily on Adrien’s shoulders, which only worsened when he caught sight of the Gorilla’s disappointed gaze. Silently climbing into the backseat, Adrien leaned his head against the window as the Gorilla carefully pulled the sedan back onto the road. After checking to make sure the old man had made it safely across, Adrien watched as collège Francoise Dupont disappeared around a corner.
“...Adrien,” Nathalie said slowly. “You know who you are, and more importantly, who your father is, correct?”
Adrien cringed, shrinking into his seat. “...yes, I do.”
“Then why on Earth would you pull a stunt like that?” Nathalie hissed. “You very nearly got yourself, and someone else, killed!”
“He wasn’t supposed to be there!” Adrien said defensively. “You weren’t supposed to see I was gone for another hour! If you and Gorilla had just-”
“Enough,” Nathalie snapped. “You will not blame me or Perrine for doing our jobs. When you left this morning you knew that we would come after you. And yet, you went anyway! You are the heir to the Agreste fashion label. Everything you do reflects on us, your father, and the entire company. You cannot only think about yourself!”
Adrien ducked his head, his hands shaking with anger as he gripped his jeans. “I didn’t mean to put anyone-”
“But you did,” Nathalie interjected. “That man could have lost his life today. You are not just any teenager who can do whatever he wants, Adrien, you are an Agreste. You have responsibilities-”
“I never asked to be!” Adrien snapped, turning to glare at Nathalie as her eyes widened. “I never asked to be a celebrity! I never asked for a father that doesn’t care about me-”
“That’s not true-”
“Yes it is! I do everything he says and I never see him! Mom’s gone, and it’s like he doesn’t even care! He’d rather lock himself in his office and pretend like I don’t exist and I hate it!”
A tense silence settled over the car. Adrien breathed heavily, shoulders heaving as he fought to contain the tears threatening to spill over his face. Nathalie’s expression was unreadable, her face a professional mask as she considered him.
“I just…wanted to be normal, for once…” Adrien mumbled, curling himself into a ball. Nathalie didn’t say anything, but Adrien didn’t expect her to.
It wasn’t her job.
Marinette raced through the courtyard, making a beeline for the school’s central staircase.
Classrooms filled with students passed by in a blur, and Marinette could hear the muddled voices of several teachers beginning their lessons for the day. Her feet pounded against the asphalt, and Marinette wondered if the school’s inner courtyard had always been this big. Collège Francoise Dupont was built like a hollow rectangle, with three stories of classrooms encircling a large inner courtyard. The yard itself was a massive rectangle several meters across, and its sheer size made it the de facto hang out spot for students in between classes.
It was also causing Marinette to be even more late.
Finally reaching the school’s main staircase, Marinette flung herself up the steps three at a time. In a matter of seconds she reached the second floor, using her momentum to swing herself around and race down the hallway. With the pounding of her feet echoing against the metal floor, Marinette began mentally running through Mme. Bustier’s morning routine.
She always starts with announcements, then says her quote for the day before she does attendance, Marinette thought, her limbs burning as she ran. If I can get in the door before she says my name, maybe-
The door to Mme. Bustier’s classroom flung open, and before Marinette could react a tall, stocky boy appeared in the hallway in front of her. Her feet sliding uselessly against the floor, Marinette crashed into the boy and sprawled backwards on the ground. That oh-so-familiar ache that came with most of Marinette’s many falls coursed its way through her body, and as Marinette groaned from the new sensation, she glanced up at the person she’d just collided with.
A boy stood over her, giving Marinette a clear view of his baggy cargo shorts and black t-shirt. His dark hair was buzzed close to his scalp, with the exception of a central puff of blonde hair positioned just above his forehead. The boy blinked, having barely moved from where Marinette ran into him before fixing her with a furious glare. “Watch it,” he snarled, stomping past her as he stormed down the hallway. Marinette watched him go, her mind racing as she tried to place him…
“Marinette! Are you alright?” someone asked, and Marinette turned towards the classroom.
Mme. Bustier was hurrying over to her, and Marinette could see at least five students watching from their seats. Marinette felt her face flush with embarrassment as Mme. Bustier helped her to her feet.
“Yes, Mme. Bustier, I’m fine,” Marinette mumbled. “Sorry for being late.”
“Oh, that's alright, Marinette,” Mme. Bustier reassured her. “You haven’t missed anything. Just take your seat and I won’t mark you late, okay?”
Flashing her teacher an appreciative smile, Marinette tentatively stepped into the classroom. Twelve pairs of eyes stared back at her, and Marinette wilted from the attention. Keeping her head down, she made her way up the center of the classroom and slid into her seat. Marinette was so focused on her own mortification, she didn’t even notice the person sitting next to her.
“Hey!” a friendly voice chirped, startling Marinette into looking up. A tanned hand was thrust in her face as the voice said. “I’m Alya, it’s nice to meet’cha!”
Blinking owlishly at the hand in front of her, Marinette tentatively accepted it as she looked at the person it belonged to. The girl-Alya-seemed about average in height. Taller than Marinette, but not by much. Her dark skin complimented her thick auburn hair nicely, and a pair of hazel eyes studied her from behind a pair of thick black glasses.
She’d look good in autumn colors, Marinette thought idly before realizing she still hadn’t said anything.
“Marinette, I’m hi,” Marinette replied, cringing. “I mean, hi, I’m Marinette.”
Alya laughed. “Hi Marinette! Mme. Bustier said this seat was open, so it looks like we’re gonna be desk buddies!”
Marinette giggled. Something about Alya’s boldness was…oddly comforting. “Are you new here?” Marinette asked. “I’ve never seen you before, so…”
“Yep! Just moved here yesterday.”
Marinette offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. “Well, welcome to Francoise Dupont!”
“Why, thank you! Now Marinette, I need you to tell me something…” Alya leaned in close, wrapping an arm around Marinette’s shoulders. Marinette hesitated, not expecting Alya’s sudden closeness. “What’s the deal with her?”
Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger, her gaze locking on to the blonde girl sitting in the front row. Her mood instantly soured.
“Chloé Bourgeois,” Marinette answered with thinly veiled disdain. “The mayor’s daughter, and also the most spoiled person you’ll ever meet.”
Alya raised an eyebrow. “She’s that bad?”
Marinette fixed her with a look. “Think of the most entitled, dramatic, full-of-themselves person you know, and I promise you Chloé’s worse.”
Alya whistled under her breath, and the two girls turned to where the girl herself was seated. She was sitting in the front row, which in itself was strange-Marinette had never seen Chloé sit anywhere other than her self-designated seat in the back of the classroom. She was idly tapping her fingers against the desk, glancing every so often at the classroom door before huffing and returning her attention to the nearby window.
“-so she's a villain.”
Marinette blinked, tilting her head before turning to look at Alya. “Sorry, she's a what?” Marinette asked.
“A villain,” Alya confirmed. “You know, bad guy. Criminal. Ne’er-do-well. Take your pick. Someone who causes trouble and gets beaten by a hero.” Alya gestured to her shirt, giving Marinette a better look at it.
It was a simple blue t-shirt, with a drawing of a blonde female superhero emblazoned on it. The woman wore a blue body suit underneath a red vest-like garment that flared out into a cape around her waist. Red boots and a golden M on her chest completed the ensemble, and stylized text that read “Majestia” was written behind her.
Marinette smirked. “If Chloé is a villain, does that make you a superhero?”
“Hey, you said it, not me,” Alya replied cheekily, raising her hands in mock surrender.
Marinette scoffed, causing Alya to lightly shove her with her shoulder. “Mock me if you must,” Alya said dramatically, “but know this! When justice is brought to Chloé Bourgeois, it will be by my hands!”
“Uh huh, sure,” Marinette said sarcastically. “Because there’s no bigger threat to the people of Paris than a teenager with attitude.”
Alya gave her a flat look. “I just watched her get another boy sent to the principal’s office because he was ‘bullying’ her.” Alya made air quotes around the word ‘bullying’. “And all he did was ask her to give him his seat back! Look at her, she doesn’t even care! That’s villain behavior-”
“Alya, Marinette, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?” Mme. Bustier asked. The girls whipped their heads to the front of the classroom where the teacher was watching them with a raised brow.
“Sorry, Mme. Bustier,” Marinette and Alya chorused, exchanging a look before snickering and pulling out their tablets.
“Here,” Alya whispered as Mme. Bustier resumed her lesson. “Put your number in. We’ll talk after school.”
Marinette took Alya’s phone and entered her number, feeling her own phone buzz in her pocket a few moments later. Sharing a smile with her new friend, Marinette tuned in to Mme. Bustier’s lecture.
Mayor’s little brat.
Ivan stormed down the hallway, his fists shaking with anger. It was so stupid. That seat in the front row was his.
He hadn’t wanted it at first. Being moved to the front of the class was an embarrassment every student knew and no one wanted. So when it happened to him, Ivan had complained and protested and said some things that he wasn’t proud of. Over time, though, Ivan began to notice things. He wasn’t being subjected to Kim and Alix’s obnoxious teasing anymore, Mme. Bustier seemed to notice when he was struggling more often than before, and he had a great view out of one of the classroom’s windows.
He was doing better. He was actually learning.
And then that pompous little diva had stolen his seat.
Mme. Bustier had tried to intervene, of course, as did most of the class; Chloé wasn’t particularly well-liked by anyone in that room. But she’d just tossed her hair and threatened to get her Daddy involved if she didn’t get what she wanted.
And Mme. Bustier had backed off.
Ivan didn’t blame her-heck, Chloé even had the principal under her thumb-but that didn’t make it any easier to accept. Admittedly, Ivan might have…overreacted a little bit, but letting loose on that spoiled blonde brat had felt great, right up until Mme. Bustier sent him to the principal’s office.
It just wasn’t fair.
Chloé was the one who stole his seat, but he was the only one being punished? The whole thing was so-
A quiet sound caught Ivan’s attention. Snapping out of his thoughts, he realized that he’d arrived at M. Damocles’ office. Glancing around, Ivan searched the hallway for the source of the noise…
There.
Looking over the railing, Ivan saw it. A black butterfly, one with strange purple markings unlike any that Ivan had seen before, was erratically flying towards him. It looked…wrong. The air seemed to hum with supernatural power, and something inside Ivan screamed danger!
He squashed the feeling.
It’s a butterfly, he told himself. It’s not going to hurt you.
The butterfly fluttered closer. Ivan reached for it…
In a burst of violet light, the butterfly disappeared. As he regained his bearings, Ivan saw that his hall pass was now glowing with dark purple light. For a moment, everything was quiet.
Then someone started speaking to him…