Chapter Text
Ladybug stood atop a building, pressing her yo-yo to release the now purified butterfly from within. A crowd gathered in the streets below, watching as she tossed the red and black bike pump into the air. The pump bust in the sky, light filling the air as little ladybugs traveled around the city to restore destroyed streets and toppled buildings. The crowd cheered and Ladybug offered them a small wave.
Chat smiled. It wasn’t often they had an audience.
He dashed out from behind a neighboring building, racing toward her turned back.
A shout of alarm from below made Ladybug whirl around.
Chat grinned. “Hello, my lady.” Then, he swung the baton at her head.
Ladybug jumped back, twisting her feet into the ground to stop sliding. “Chat Noir,” she sighed.
Chat twirled his baton around his fingers as he watched her. He saw he release her yo-yo. The string lengthened as she spun it around rapidly. She started toward him.
Chat took a step back. “What? No other comments?”
Ladybug ground her teeth. “It’s been...a long day.”
Then, she launched herself at him.
She didn’t hesitate today. Ladybug threw her yo-yo at him, wrapping itself around his baton. When she yanked, he almost stumbled forward but managed to hold his ground. He extended his baton, using it to launch himself at her. She dove to the side and Chat braced himself as he hit the ground. He spun around, but Ladybug was already diving towards him again.
Ladybug was exhausted, he could tell. She was becoming more aggressive, movements more predictable. Almost sloppy—if she was even capable of being sloppy.
She was merciless. Ladybug threw her yo-yo around everywhere, moving so fast Chat felt dizzy trying to keep track of it. She launched herself off of walls, poles, and other protruding structures, feet and fists flying as she aimed for his head, his joints, his torso. She barely gave him an inch, pushing back and back and back until he sensed the edge of the building and a drop behind him.
He tried to move back and nearly stepped off the building. He stumbled and, ignoring the swell of cheers below, planted his feet. “You almost had me there, bug butt.”
She didn’t bother with a response. Instead, Ladybug’s arm shot forward. He saw a flash of red, and then Chat felt his arms strapped to his sides. He tried to squirm out of the confines of her yo-yo, but Ladybug’s fist connected with his cheek and light flashed behind his eyes.
“Whoa,” he grunted, jumping away. “You really got me there.”
Ladybug screeched. “ Do you ever shut up?”
When she reached for him again, Chat jerked forward, slamming his head against her own. Ladybug stumbled back, loosening her grip on the yo-yo. Chat took the opportunity to wiggle his arms out and ripped the string from her hands. Her head snapped up as Chat dove toward her, pinning her to the ground.
Ladybug wheezed as he pressed his baton down on her throat. Chat grinned and reached for her ears. “Really like these earrings. They’re a good color on you.”
Her eyes widened, panicked, and she began thrashing violently.
He felt his fingers graze her earlobes lightly before the world spun violently and suddenly, his head slammed against the ground with his baton in Ladybug’s hands pressing into his neck. He could barely breathe. He gasped for air, clawing at the baton.
Ladybug stared down at him with grim determination. She pushed down harder, making him cough miserably into her face. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Why are you working for Le Papillon? What do you want with my Miraculous?”
“If you give me those earrings, I might tell you,” he managed to choke out.
“ Chat Noir!”
He was sure she was going to crush his windpipe. Black spots were starting to appear in his vision from lack of oxygen.
Beep Beep.
Ladybug cursed under her breath and Chat thanked whatever higher power was watching over him.
“Well, that’s a fun sound.”
“ Shut up!” She screamed so loud her voice broke. He could feel her adjusting her grip on the baton, but she wasn’t trying to choke him anymore.
He grinned. “Make me.”
She turned her full glare on him. “Oh, I’ll make—”
Beep Beep.
"You'll what, my lady?"
When Chat saw her face, he finally felt the tiniest twinge of fear because Ladybug looked downright murderous. He laughed anyway.
"I'm going to make you regret the day you were born."
Get in line.
Chat gave her a lazy smile. “You know, Ladybug, I really do like our conversations. I could talk to you all day. ”
Beep Beep.
“I mean, if you’ve got like, five minutes or something, I would love to answer those questions you had earlier. What were they again? Something something your Miraculous—”
Ladybug nearly screamed in frustration. Her eyes darted around frantically. He could practically see the little red and black spotted gears in her head turning.
Chat grinned. “Are you busy right now? Because I have some free time—”
She suddenly pressed down on the baton, much harder than before, and the words died as they left his mouth. “I don’t have time for this.”
Suddenly, he felt the weight on his neck disappear. He could breathe again, but before he could register what was going on, he caught a glimpse of Ladybug swinging the baton down at his head. Light flashed behind his eyes. His ears rung. He thought he heard something crack, but it was hard to tell behind the pain. Then, everything went black.
When he woke up, everything was dark. The sun had gone down and he had probably lost a couple hours of his life. He felt anger bubbling up in his chest, but he forced it back down. It wasn’t the first time it had happened.
Chat tried to stand, but the ropes wrapping around his chest held him back against a pole.
Chat blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness. When he looked around, he realized he was still on the same building, maybe a few feet away from the actual battleground. His baton lay near his feet. Ladybug had probably dropped it in her panic to get away.
Oh god, his head was killing him. There was a constant ache behind his eyes and he could feel his head throbbing against the poll behind him, waves of pain pulsing against the cold metal. He got the sense that if he moved too quickly, he’d probably throw up over the side of the building and then fall down it.
The ropes weren’t tied too tight, thankfully. Probably because Ladybug had rushed off before she de-transformed and didn’t have time thinking about securing him properly. He was surprised the police hadn’t tried to take him into custody. Maybe they had thought Ladybug had finally offed him.
Not today, he thought grimly.
Chat sighed. Ignoring the pain pounding in his head, he shifted from side to side, trying to slide out from underneath the ropes. Once he was free, Chat bent down and picked up his baton. He stood up too quickly and nearly collapsed on the ground again.
Dammit, Ladybug.
He walked to the edge of the building and looked out over the city. A cold breeze rushed past, gently disturbing his hair and sending chills up and down his arms, but he hardly noticed as he took in the view. The streetlamps cast strange shadows over the streets. The multicolored lights of the city dotted the darkness like stars in the night sky. The quiet sounds of the subdued city at night filled his ears, and he tried to relax as he breathed in the crisp air. He felt the tension slowly leaving his shoulders.
He looked down below where the crowd of people had been earlier. He didn’t want to remember the way they had started yelling when he entered the scene or the way they started cheering when he had almost stepped off a building, even though he knew they were justified. Kind of.
Chat Noir, the harbinger of bad luck, free-willed servant of Le Papillon, Ladybug's greatest enemy—that was who he was. That was who they knew him as.
He shouldn’t have felt bad about it. He never gave them another reason to think otherwise.
From the day Ladybug had shown up, single-handedly taken down a giant stone monster, and announced to the world she would defend Paris, Chat Noir had made it known where his allegiance lay.
Chat sighed and stepped away from the edge of the building. He slammed his baton into the ground, extending it so it pushed him upward to the roofs of the buildings in front of him. His boots barely touched the ground before he started to run.
The wind raced past him, ruffling his hair and howling in his ears. The cold pierced him, keeping him awake and alert as he silently jumped across the rooftops of Paris.
He didn’t want to go home yet, couldn’t handle another reprimand, another disappointed look, another grown, another question of his dedication, another reminder of what was at stake, another—
Something hot splashed onto his cheek. He ignored it.
He often wondered how long he could run before he tired. All of his physical abilities were enhanced as a superhero. He could run faster, longer, twist his body in ways he normally couldn’t. He didn’t know his limits. He had always wanted to find out.
He kept running.
Eventually, his lungs started to burn. He should stop, but he didn’t feel that tired. The burn was good, actually. It reminded him he was human. It reminded him that he had limits.
He forced himself to stop and looked around. He was in a part of the city he didn’t visit often as Chat Noir. He could see the park to his right below him, the sound of the fountain splashing rising above the blood rushing in his ears. Another long line of buildings separated him from the park. When he squinted, he thought he could make out a sign that indicated the bakery that sat at the end of the street. Chat took a few hesitant steps forward, footsteps suddenly sounding absurdly loud. He paused, trying to catch his breath when he heard it.
Footsteps.
A voice.
He tensed. Across the street, above the bakery, he saw a figure illuminated by the moon standing on a balcony.
Who…?
Chat ducked down. A whole street separated him and the figure, but he could still make out a face and a quiet voice talking in hushed tones.
"…don't understand…motive…do they want…"
He shouldn’t be moving closer. After all, he’s Chat Noir, but curiosity got the better of him. He eyed the ground, wondering how much noise he would make if he used his baton to cross.
“No...definitely not,” he mumbled.
He turned around and decided to cross the street further back. He dashed back a few meters, and then used his baton to catapult him across to the other building. Then, he started to make his way back to the balcony, scaling up and over walls or dropping down to climb along the side of the building. He started to lose track of how far away he was from the balcony, and as he climbed up another brick wall, he suddenly found himself looking down at the balcony. There was a girl with black hair in pigtails standing on the balcony, gesturing wildly to the air. She seemed to be ranting about something.
“Oh,” he said, a little too loud.
The girl froze. Slowly, she turned her head to look up, and when she saw him, she let out a blood-curdling screech.
Before he knew what he was doing, Chat dove forward and clamped a hand over her mouth.
“ Shh! You’re going to wake someone!” he hissed.
The girl stared at him, eyes wide open in terror.
He suddenly realized what a horrible position he was in—the Chat Noir randomly showing up on a civilian’s balcony in the dead of night and muffling her screams.
Nice going, smart one.
“Um,” he suddenly felt sheepish. “I didn’t—fuck, I’m sorry.” He hastily removed his hand from her mouth.
She kept staring at him, mouth open and blood slowly draining from her face. She was still in shock, probably because she hadn’t started screaming again or pushed him off the building.
But the moment he thinks that her blue eyes hardened. She grabbed the nearest weapon—a broom—and pointed it at his chest.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “What do you want?”
“Uh,” he said intelligently, busy trying to fathom how stupid he was.
She jerked the broom up, the handle lifting his chin. “Answer the question.”
He slowly raised his hands. “S-sorry. I-I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—” He swallowed. “Um, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just in the area, and I thought I heard someone talking. I—”
“So what? You decided to spy on me?”
“No!” He exclaimed. “I was just curious. I wanted to know who was still up and outside.”
“‘ I was just curious,’” she mocked. “What are you really doing here?”
“I...what?” He tilted his head in confusion. Then, he frowned. “I wasn’t going to murder you or anything. I know I’m...you know, but I’m not a murderer. I don’t just kill random civilians.”
“Random…” The girl loosened her grip on the broom. “Y-you...oh.”
He stared at her.
“So...it’s just a coincidence that you appeared on my balcony tonight?”
“Um, yes?” He straightened and lifted a hand to push the broom handle back. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”
The girl blinked, then smacked his hand away. “W-well, you’re Chat Noir. So, are you, like, scouting for Le Papillon’s next victim to akumatize?”
Chat resisted the urge to sigh. “No. Here’s a trade secret: Le Papillon doesn’t particularly care about my input. I’m just the janitor who’s supposed to mess with Ladybug after she’s done with her daily heroic deed.” He couldn’t keep the last note of bitterness out of his voice.
“Wait, what? He doesn’t? I thought you were, like, villain partners.”
“Not exactly,” he muttered.
“Then what do you do?”
“Whatever Le Papillon wants me to do.”
The girl paused, thinking. “You don’t sound too happy about that.”
“What. What do you mean,” he said flatly. “I love being forced to get my ass kicked by Ladybug nearly every day.”
“But—” The girl looked thoroughly confused. “But you’re evil!” She cringed, realizing how it sounded. “I mean—you chose to work for Le Papillon, so…”
“Yes, and my favorite part of the job is being vehemently hated by the entire city and only partially despised by my boss.” He tried his best not to sound so whiny and bitter, but he couldn’t keep the spite out of his voice. He hated the way his voice started to wobble at the end.
“O-oh.” She slowly lowered her broom. “Wait, are you crying?”
Chat recoiled and stepped back, heels colliding with the edge of the trapdoor. “No.”
She blinked, looking conflicted. “I...do you want to talk about it?”
He blinked. “What?”
She looked at him like she couldn’t believe she had just said that either. “I’m just...confused. And I’m trying to understand. So—”
“You do realize who you’re talking to right?”
“I am fully aware.” She fully retracted the broom and crossed her arms. “Look, I just, I didn’t expect you to…I didn’t...you’re just different from what I thought you were. And now—just—are you okay?”
Despite himself, he gave her a small smile. “I’m fine. Thank you for the concern.”
She eyed him, completely not believing him. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked again.
“No, I don’t, but thank you for the offer.”
She gave him an odd look.
A gust of wind rushed past and she let out a violent shiver. Her arms flew up as she wrapped them around herself.
“You should go inside,” he said to her. “It’s supposed to get colder.”
“Wh—oh. Uh, thanks.”
He nodded and started to walk to the other side of the balcony, toward the railing. The girl flinched as he walked past. “I should go.”
She didn’t respond, but he didn’t really expect her to. Chat grabbed his baton and started to climb over the railing.
“Wait!”
He paused.
There was a beat of silence like she was thinking. “I, um, if...if you ever want to talk. You know where to find me.”
He gripped the railing, unsure what to say.
“Um, goodnight. I...hope you feel better.”
He didn’t move as he listened to her soft footsteps moving away. Only when he heard the quiet THUD of a closing door did he finally step off the balcony and jump off into the night.