LIPS COLD AS ICE, SOFT as silk.

Ladybug shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have given into his soulful blue eyes and glassy tears, but this was her kitty, and he was hurting, and she loved him. She really, really, really loved him.

In Chat Blanc's arms she felt entirely safe, the world whirling on its axis while he kept her grounded, palms running down her back. The wind was whirling— no, rushing by— no, racing.

Ladybug cracked open her eyes to see the dark glacial water an inch from her face before she crashed through the surface, cheeks stinging and limbs whiplashed. In her bleary vision, she could no longer see him. Or the sunlight. Or the surface.

It was just dark, the numbing sensation of utter nothingness flooding into her lungs—

Marinette jerked upright in her bed, a migraine pounding at the base of her neck, which felt like it would snap if her head were any heavier. She curled up into a ball against the wall, willing herself to stay quiet, lest she wake all the kwamis. At the very least, Tikki—

—was not on her pillow.

Marinette blinked her tears away, confused. Her kwami had probably gone to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Tikki either did not know that Marinette knew about her prolific appetite and indulgent habits, or she knew and chose not to address her greatest point of shame.

Good that she hadn't noisily woken Tikki from her sleep.

Bad that, when Marinette really would have liked someone to tell her that her irrational fears were not real, that everyone she loved would always be safe, that she could just let herself be careless for once, Tikki wasn't there.

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Tikki roused him with a morsel of Camembert.

Plagg was deep in slumber when she arrived at Le Grand Paris and melted through the wall of Adrien's bedroom. The Black Cat kwami's whiskers twitched and his mouth sagged open, searching, each time she brought the cheese near. But he did not wake, so it took a few waves before Plagg craned his head high enough to snap himself back to consciousness.

"Camembert," he mumbled drowsily.

"Shh," Tikki whispered, guiding him by his sense of smell into the living room, where she finally let him consume the odious chunk of dairy. "We need to talk."

"Do we? I think I need to sleep, is what I need." The kwami dropped to the couch and rolled over, laying his tail across his eyes.

"Plagg."

"Plagg."

"Plagg." Tikki sighed, placing a paw on her big, round forehead. "It's about our wielders."

Plagg miserably rolled back to face Tikki and pushed himself to lean against the oversized cushion. His grassy green eyes glowed in the dark, unimpressed but alert. "Alright. Fine. Speak."

"I don't know if Chat Noir has spoken with you about this, but mine and several other Miraculous wielders are planning a party for an upcoming human religious holiday."

"And this is relevant to me, how?"

"The celebration is entirely for your wielder," Tikki informed. "I've given Ladybug permission on this occasion, but I don't like the Miraculous being used for personal gain. I don't want this to become a habit, so if they are so determined to care for each other, which they obviously do, why can't they do it as civilians?"

"Chat Noir thinks that if Ladybug knows his identity, the conflict of interest will strip away his responsibilities." Plagg perked up then, narrowing his eyes inquisitively. "Do you think she would? Would she take me away from him?"

"I can tell there's more going on in Ladybug's heart and mind than she ever voices aloud, or even to herself. If Chat Noir revealed himself, she would act on her compassion first, instead of technicalities. She loves him, despite what she tells herself."

"What if her love tells him to stop working for the sake of his well-being? He would hate that."

"If Chat Noir asked, Ladybug would consider his wants alongside his needs."

"Hmm." Plagg crossed his arms. "Alright. If Chat Noir can keep being Chat Noir, I will consider advising him to reveal himself. But what about Ladybug? If I remember correctly, she's the one who doesn't want to show herself."

Tikki had no answer to that. Marinette had so many nightmares these days. Sometimes she would wake and remember them, other times Tikki had to watch her unconscious suffering. Those dreams she always forgot. "She's afraid. Very afraid."

"Then why are we discussing this if Ladybug herself won't agree?"

Tikki unclasped her paws and placed them on the embroidered fabric of the cushion, swallowing her pride. In all her years (and they were many) she'd never encountered a situation as twisted as this, so now she didn't know what to do. She always knew what to do.

This was an unpleasant feeling, but Tikki was the kwami of Creation. Discomfort was an opportunity for growth. Which was why she had remained flexible, open-minded, and sought help from this smelly sock of a celestial being, despite every predisposition and prior experience that told her not to.

She was nothing if not innovative.

Plagg blinked, slumping in posture until his stomach looked like a little round hill rising from the ground. He seemed to recognise Tikki's silent appeal and yawned, throwing her a bone. "What, exactly, is your wielder afraid of? Mine has very tangible concerns about his responsibilities to Paris and his father's transgressions. But Ladybug has the entire city at her back."

"She is afraid of loss." Marinette was lucky to never have lost much in her life, but Tikki supposed that was why it was so terrifying to her. Humans are most afraid of the unknown. "She'd rather bury any emotional vulnerabilities than admit she has them and have them go unsoothed. Chat Noir's absence did not help."

"Excuse me? He's carrying the burdens of ten average people right now."

And Marinette is not? 

Tikki exhaled. "He decided to unload one of these burdens on Ladybug by disappearing for two months."

Plagg bristled defensively. "I tried to get him to return to active duty."

All kwamis were under a spell, old as the first Miraculous and just as powerful. They would never be able to speak their weilder's name aloud in the earshot of others, or hint at their identity in public, or even draw a banner and voicelessly dangle it over a person's head. If they tried anything, their tongues would twist and their limbs would flop and they would find themselves, though unharmed, unable to execute any revealing actions correctly. The spell was intended as protective magic, at its origin, but now it felt like a roadblock.

"I'm not blaming you for your wielder's absence," Tikki clarified. A beat passed, and she sniffed. "I do hold you responsible for what you did when he returned."

"What?" Plagg baulked, nearly levitating off the cushion before he decided he didn't have the energy. Or care.

"Nevermind that I don't think Adrien is anywhere near mentally ready to stretch to fill his adult powers—"

"He's the most talented wielder I've ever had."

"—talent is not the same as readiness." The trial would end before the winter did; what if the verdict was even more difficult for Marinette and Adrien to stomach, without relying on each other? Stupid Plagg. "Nevermind that, because you taught him some of the most sacred powers of the Miraculous only for him to use them to lie to Ladybug. Catwalker? The Familiar?"

"You knew who the new weilders were?"

Tikki rolled her eyes. She had a keen eye for detail, something that the kwami of Destruction would understand nothing of. The quantum masking was not nearly as effective on the being who'd created quantum mechanics, and of course, Adrien's mannerisms in a new suit were still Adrien's mannerisms. "Of course I knew. You're not as slick as you think you are."

"Well, I had to distract him somehow," Plagg muttered. Briefly he flicked his tail in the direction of the curtained window, where the rest of the city slept. "You ever consider that it's not easy for me being cooped up here either, while you get to be with the rest of our family in Ladybug's home?"

"You always said you loved your independence. Decay and a plaything," Tikki rebuffed, pointing her chin toward the flatscreen TV, its associated PlayStation rigging, the ceramic trays of old charcuterie selections. "That's all you need."

"Well, everything in moderation," Plagg drawled, smirking, "right, munchkin?"

Tikki's jaw fell open. Her appetite was a perpetual sore spot—how dare he leverage that against her! "I haven't binged for two years now!"

And then, before she could hear her volume and adjust, Adrien's bedroom door opened.

Startled by the movement and acting on instinct, she shot straight down into the couch cushion with a frantic squeak. All around her there was cotton stuffing, though Adrien's voice still drifted into her ears. "Tikki?"

Oh no. Their squabbling must have woken him.

"Tikki, please come out," he was saying. Suddenly, Plagg materialised beside her in the fluff, smug and haughty. Nice going, she could practically hear him gloating.

"—has something happened to Ladybug? She would never send you here when she doesn't know my civilian identity."

Should she reveal herself? She could always sink right down to the concrete flooring, in shame, and then zip sideways back into the open air. She'd spoken to Adrien in the past. Once they even worked together to combat an akumatized civilian and her sentimonster. Furthermore, Marinette was always raving about how kind and patient and gentle he was.

Still... she came here to unravel the knotted situation that was Marinette's life, not make it more complicated.

"—please, tell me what's going on."

"He won't give up," Plagg remarked breezily, "now that you've gotten him worried. This is his Lady we're talking about. Soon, he might even ask Ladybug on that messaging platform Pegasus made to verify her safety himself. I dare presume you're here without her knowledge."

Tikki sighed and followed her fellow kwami up, sticking her head through the lining of the couch cushion.

Adrien was sitting on the other end, nervously draping a blanket over himself. Tikki levitated closer to him, comforting and calm. "Nothing's going on. I came to ask Plagg's advice about something."

"Is it something I can help with?" he asked, his plaintive green eyes impossibly wide. Puppy-like, despite the cat affiliations.

"You can help by letting Ladybug know that she would never lose you. That you're still her partner. Stay close to her no matter what happens at the end of this trial."

Adrien blinked, startled at the turn. "Of course she wouldn't. Of course I am. Of course I will."

"Really?" Tikki told him. "You're detached when you two spend time together, and you've been deceptive about your motives in the investigation. Your actions cause her distress."

"I'm sorry," the young man said, and he was genuine. "But you understand why it has to be that way, don't you? My father left me a difficult legacy to unravel."

"Yes." Then, deciding not to add more lies to the situation, "No. No, I don't understand. Why can't you tell her your identity?"

"Because Ladybug doesn't want me to do that. She never has," and upon seeing Tikki inhale, ready to argue, Adrien added, "even if one day she did, I couldn't reciprocate. My father hurt Ladybug. He hurt this city. I'm going to do everything I can to make it up to Paris, but that will only work if no-one knows who Chat Noir is. Not even Ladybug."

"Ladybug wouldn't let your civilian identity stop you from being Chat Noir. You can't really believe she would throw away five years of partnership just to appease the rules of the judiciary. If you actually opened up to her, you would be surprised by her feelings," Tikki said, sure as anything.

"Feelings," Adrien repeated, under his breath, tugging the blanket around him slightly tighter. Poor boy. He was just as afraid as Marinette, she realised, afraid that letting anyone in would turn them away. Afraid of loss, in a way different to Marinette, because he'd already known so much.

Tikki thanked Adrien and bid him a farewell. She phased through the stone wall of the hotel suite, turning when she sensed Plagg trailing after her.

"That boy is just as lost as Ladybug," she announced on the balcony, frigid night air wending through her fur, "which means you're doing just as bad a job as me."

Plagg startled at the uncharacteristic rudeness. "I never said you were doing a bad job." Then it clicked. Her projecting, her defences. His eyes softened, and he stretched out a fuzzy paw for her to hold. "You're not doing a bad job, Tikki."

Tikki wrapped her arms around Plagg and squeezed tight, his curling clockwise around her. "You're doing great," he kept saying, and Tikki felt soothed just to hear those words from a voice other than her own.

Duusu, the kwami of Emotion, was the best at comforting others. This was the thing about Plagg. Despite their vicious bickering, their competing magical philosophies, and their opposite lifestyles, he was, at the end of all the days, her oldest friend in the entire universe. It had just been them at the beginning. They could read each other's minds like no other, so it did not surprise her when he echoed the tangent her brain had taken.

"I miss Duusu, too."

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a / n :

wow, how long has it been since an update?

alongside the usual time-sucking vortex of life and work, part of my absence was a weird kind of anxiety/self-doubt about this work and the direction it will go in the last act. as i've said, this is my first fanfiction but not my first novel; when writing original fiction, you get a lot more authority over characterization and 'authenticity' as the creator of the source material. but writing fanfiction is a lot harder: alongside existing canon, there are also so many perceptive writers and readers already within the fandom.

tl;dr: as a novice ff writer, i got stage shy and had to fiddle with a lot of plot threads before feeling confident publishing again.

i hope this chapter eased you back into the world and timeline! tikki & plagg interactions are some of my favourite to write. in future chapters, we really get to dive deeper into the Miraculous Lore. i'm very excited to show you more of my interpretation of the kwamis and their history.