Marinette

Marinette sat alone in the quiet office, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap as she stared blankly at the ticking clock on the wall. The indistinct murmur of voices beyond the door did little to distract her from the swirl of emotions coursing through her. She had known this day was coming, ever since Jean-Luc Dubois had called to inform her of Master Fu's passing and the reading of his will. What she hadn't expected was the news that there would be another beneficiary.

When Jean-Luc mentioned they were just waiting for someone else to arrive, Marinette's heart skipped a beat. Her mind went straight to only one other person. Her partner. Chat Noir. She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety at the thought. Seeing him here, without the masks, without the chaos of battle—it would be so strange, so different. Just earlier that day, they had slipped back into their familiar rhythm, Ladybug and Chat Noir, always the duo. It felt good, almost normal. The playful banter, the way they understood each other — it was easy to forget, in those moments, that both of them were hidden behind a mask.

But here, in this quiet office, the stakes felt different. What would it be like to see Chat Noir in the daylight, in an ordinary setting, no longer hidden behind the mask? The anticipation bubbled inside her; the excitement battling fiercely with the anxiety that twisted her stomach.

Chat Noir without the mask.

She glanced at the door again, half expecting to see him stroll in with his characteristic swagger, complete with a leather jacket and newly styled blond hair—and that stubble. Ugh! This was too much, too soon.

Her mind scrolled through all the possibilities, like some sort of identity tinder. Left to all the brunettes, right to all the blonds. Who was he? She had spent years imagining who might be behind that mask.

Within the next few minutes, she would finally have a name, a real name for a real person. Would she already know him? Would he be someone from her collège, or rival collège? Or would it be someone who she'd spilt a coffee down once at a café, or run into at the library?

The door finally creaked open, and she straightened in her seat, bracing herself for the arrival of her mysterious partner. But when the person stepped through the doorway, her breath caught in her throat for an entirely different reason.

It wasn't Chat Noir.

It was Adrien Agreste.

Her ex-boyfriend. The boy who always lingered in the back of her mind, was standing in the doorway, looking just as shocked to see her as she was to see him. Marinette's heart lurched painfully in her chest as she stared at him, frozen in place. He hadn't changed much since the last time they'd spoken—still impossibly handsome, his golden hair slightly shorter, giving a better view of those mesmerising green eyes, the familiar warmth and gentleness in his expression. But now, that same face was twisted in confusion and surprise, and for a split second, Marinette thought she saw something else—something closer to dread.

Adrien stepped inside, his eyes locked on hers as he crept toward the empty chair beside her. He seemed just as unsure of what to do as she was. Her pulse quickened, her emotions tangling in ways she couldn't quite control. She had spent so long trying to distance herself from him, to move on from the heartbreak that lingered after their brief relationship had ended. And now, here he was, sitting beside her. And he had a child.

Her stomach lurched as she remembered how happy they all sounded leaving the collège the night before. How Adrien had his arm around a woman, how a small child stood between them. He was happy and content without her.

'Marinette?' His voice was soft, filled with the same confusion she felt.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Of all the people who could have walked through that door, Adrien was not what she had expected.

Her mind raced, scrambling to make sense of it all. Why was he here? And more importantly, where was Chat Noir? Jean-Luc had said another beneficiary was on the way—had he meant Adrien? Marinette's thoughts swirled. How did Adrien know Master Fu?

But a sinking feeling in her chest told her she knew. Even though her head was blocking any thought of the truth, her heart knew exactly why he was there.

She barely noticed when Jean-Luc finally entered the room, breaking the awkward tension hanging between them. He took his seat behind the desk, shuffling through papers as he spoke.

'Thank you both for coming. We can begin now,' he said.

Marinette's heart was pounding in her ears as Adrien shifted uncomfortably beside her. He was just as tense, his body language far from the calm, collected persona she had grown used to seeing over the years.

It was only then, in the silence of the moment, that Marinette allowed her heart to communicate with her brain—the timing of Adrien's appearance, the way his presence seemed to fit perfectly into the context of the will. The world seemed to slow around her as she allowed the realisation to sink in.

Adrien was Chat Noir.

Her breath caught, and her mind reeled as she stared at the boy beside her. Adrien Agreste, her ex-boyfriend, the boy she had loved, and the one she had thought she could never truly be close to—was also the masked hero who had been fighting by her side all these years. The same boy who had just slipped back into their old ways earlier that day, who had joked and bantered with her as if nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

Marinette shifted in her seat, her heart still reeling. As Jean-Luc began reading through the formalities of the will, her attention wavered, her mind caught somewhere between the past and the present.

She stole a glance at Adrien beside her. He was listening quietly, his expression composed, though she noticed the faint tension in his jaw. She tried to focus on the words being read, but her gaze kept drifting back to him.

He had changed. It had been four long years since they'd broken up, and yet, in some ways, he felt like the same boy she had once fallen for. But as she studied him now, she couldn't help but notice how much he had matured. His features had sharpened—his jawline more defined, his posture more assured. His golden hair, once a bit tousled and boyish, was now styled in a way that gave him a more polished, refined look. His shoulders were broader, and his presence, always captivating, seemed even more magnetic.

How was it possible for him to look even more handsome? It was like he'd stepped out of some dream she didn't even know she was still having.

And how disappointed would he be to know her now. A mediocre designer in a world where she didn't belong.

She bit her lip, forcing herself to turn her attention back to Jean-Luc, who was now speaking about Master Fu's legacy—the parlour they were both inheriting. But her thoughts betrayed her. She glanced at Adrien again, her heart thudding in her chest. There was something about him that had always drawn people in, something more than just his looks. It was the way he seemed to glow, to effortlessly pull light into the world around him. There was an undeniable radiance to Adrien, a kind of brightness that made everything around him feel just a little more alive. Even now, in this quiet office, Marinette could feel the energy that seemed to hum beneath the surface of his calm demeanour. She had forgotten how much being around him had once lit up her world.

Then, she found herself comparing him to Johnny. Johnny was brash, determined, and focused. But as much as she cared for him, Johnny felt... plain, in comparison to Adrien. He didn't have that same spark, that same vibrancy that had always surrounded Adrien. Next to him, Johnny seemed ordinary.

She sighed quietly, her gaze falling to the papers in front of her. She hadn't allowed herself to think about Adrien in this way for years—had forced herself to move on after their breakup, convincing herself that things had ended for the best. But now, sitting beside him, it was impossible to deny the effect he still had on her.

Jean-Luc's voice faded into the background once more, and Marinette's mind wandered back to those moments from their past. The stolen glances, the shared laughter, the way Adrien had always made her feel special, even when she hadn't been ready to admit her feelings for him. She remembered the way his presence had lifted her spirits, even on the hardest of days.

And now, here he was, back in her life in the most unexpected of ways. She felt the tension between them, the unresolved history, and the new, complex reality that they had been superhero partners this entire time without knowing. He had been her first crush, her first love, her best friend.

Adrien shifted beside her, and her heart skipped again as he glanced in her direction. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and something unspoken passed between them—something that felt like a mix of nostalgia, curiosity, and a shared understanding of how much time had changed them.

'Mr. Fu Wang's parlour, located on Rue du Temple, will be passed on to both of you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste, as joint beneficiaries. It was his wish that the parlour remain in operation, honouring the tradition and care he poured into his work.' Jean-Luc continued studying the papers in front of him.

Marinette blinked, trying to bring her focus back to the present. The will. The parlour. She had known Master Fu for so long—his wisdom, his quiet strength. He had been so much more than a mentor. And now, he was gone, leaving behind this piece of his life for her and Adrien to carry on—a piece of life she didn't fully understand. After all, what did he actually do there?

Adrien shifted again, his fingers tapping gently against the arm of his chair as he listened. Marinette could feel the anxiety radiating from him, as if he was just as uncertain about the future as she was.

She swallowed hard, her thoughts still tangled. She wasn't sure how to feel about the inheritance, about the fact that she would now be connected to Adrien through this part of Master Fu's life. She could barely think straight with him sitting so close, his presence so strong and familiar–she needed air.

Her mind flashed back to Johnny once again, guilt encompassing her, but this was Adrien... Adrien who had always made her feel alive.

Jean-Luc looked between them. 'If there are any questions about the will, we can discuss them now.'

She had no questions for Jean-Luc. The only questions spinning in her mind were about Adrien, about the past, and about how they would move forward now that they had been thrust back into each other's lives. She stole another glance at him, and for a moment, their eyes met again. His expression was unreadable, but Marinette felt the weight of everything between them.

The chapter of her life she thought had closed might not be over after all.

Adrien shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his gaze flicking toward the door as if it were a lifeline. His usual calm and collected demeanour was gone, replaced with an anxious restlessness that she had never seen before—not as Adrien, and certainly not as Chat Noir.

'So... we're both owners of the parlour now?' His voice was calm, though there was an edge to it—like he was trying to make sense of it all, just as she was.

Jean-Luc nodded. 'Yes, you are both joint owners of the estate. The parlour will now be equally shared between you.'

Adrien hesitated, his eyes darting briefly to her before looking away. He seemed far away, distant from the playful and carefree boy she had known. The weight of their shared secret hung between them, unspoken but heavy.

'What if... we wanted to sell it?'

The question hit her hard, pulling her out of her swirling thoughts. She looked up at him, surprised. Selling the parlour? The place that had meant so much to Master Fu? The idea seemed almost unfathomable.

Jean-Luc leaned forward, adjusting his glasses before responding. 'As joint owners, any decision regarding the parlour, including selling it, would need to be made together. You both have equal say. If one of you wishes to sell, you must come to an agreement with the other.'

Adrien nodded absently, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrest. Marinette watched him, her heart sinking as she took in his restless movements, the way he avoided her gaze. He was nothing like the confident Chat Noir she had seen earlier today, and nothing like the gentle Adrien she had come to adore. Now, he seemed eager to escape—to be anywhere but here.

Jean-Luc continued speaking, explaining the sentimental and cultural value of the parlour, but the words faded into the background. Marinette could only focus on Adrien—the boy who had always been by her side, who now felt like he was slipping away before her eyes.

Suddenly, he stood, eyes on his watch and hand stretched out to shake Jean-Luc's. His voice was tight as he spoke. 'We'll sell. It'll be easier for both of us, especially with Marinette living in New York. Thank you for seeing us. I'll be in touch.'

Sell?

Marinette's heart lurched in her chest. 'Adrien, wait—'

But before she could stop him, he was already walking toward the door, his footsteps quick and unsteady. She watched, frozen in place as the door closed softly behind him, leaving her sitting in silence. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room, and with Adrien's departure, he had taken her heart with him once again.

Her knees felt weak, and she sank back into her chair, her mind racing. They'd been together this morning, laughing and joking, Ladybug and Chat Noir, the perfect team. But now, after learning the truth—that Chat Noir was Adrien—it felt like they were strangers.

She barely noticed Jean-Luc watching her with quiet sympathy. 'I understand this is a lot to take in, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. You don't need to make any decisions right away. Take your time. Let me know what you and Monsieur Agreste decide.'

She nodded absent-mindedly, but her thoughts were still on Adrien. Her fingers clenched into fists on her lap as she fought back the tears threatening to spill. Was this her fault? Had she pushed him away by her reaction earlier? Or was he always going to leave, no matter what she did? The questions swirled in her mind, each one more painful than the last.

The room felt colder now, as if Adrien's absence had left a tangible emptiness behind. Her eyes flicked to the door, the same door he had walked through moments ago. She wanted to run after him, to stop him from leaving, but her legs wouldn't move. She was paralysed by the confusion and heartache of everything that had happened.

Marinette stood slowly, her legs shaky as she walked toward the door. She couldn't focus on the will, on Master Fu's parlour, on anything. All she could think about was Adrien, walking out of her life in a way that felt far too final. Her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid between them.

With a deep breath, she steeled herself. She didn't know how, but she knew one thing for certain—she wouldn't let Adrien slip away. Not now, not when everything had just begun to unravel.