Unsung
achieving elysium

part iii. watch how the world burns
chapter fifteen

"Ready?" Alya asked.

Marinette wrung her hands together nervously and took a deep, steadying breath. Across the room, her best friend sent her a smile.

"You got this, girl," she said, and Marinette smiled back.

"Okay," she said, taking another deep breath before nodding. "I'm ready."

"Camera's recording," Alya reported a second later.

For a moment, Marinette didn't think she could do it. The words – everything she'd planned to say and everything she'd wanted to say – died on her lips. She swallowed, imagining that behind the camera were hundreds and maybe thousands of people.

"Hello, Paris," she said finally. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng…"

She trailed off, looking hesitantly at Alya, who only gestured for her to keep going.

"…um," Marinette continued, then changed topics. "There have been twenty-nine akumatized villains in Paris over the past year alone. Twenty-nine. Um, in Paris alone, there are more than two million people. Next to that, twenty-nine doesn't look like much at all.

"But… that's twenty-nine people who have been akumatized – and I was one of them.

"I don't think anyone knows how it feels to do what I did. I don't know if people understand what we went through, what it was like to try to figure out how to go back, well, a normal life. It was hard, to say the least. There were days where I woke up hating myself – and though I've made peace with it, there are still those days."

Marinette licked her lips and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She thought of Alya, who looked close to tears behind the camera. Thought of Nino, of Adrien, of her parents, of everyone who had not loved her less for being Fabricator.

"My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You might know me better as Fabricator," she said again, lifting her chin and staring into the camera. "And I am not a villain."

Alya lifted up her glasses to wipe at her eyes and then stepped into frame.

"My name is Alya Cesaire," she continued. "You might know me better as Lady Wifi. I am not a villain."

I am not a villain.

Marinette said it to herself every time they knocked on the door of someone who had been akumatized.

I am not a villain.

"It took me a while to learn that," she told Tikki when they'd finished filming. She and Alya had come up with the idea not too long ago – a video for the Ladyblog's ten month anniversary. Not an exclusive, not an interview or behind-the-scenes, but something else entirely.

A message for Paris – and for Papillon, wherever he was.

She hoped he would see it, hoped he would see the way they'd stood together, unwavering in their hope and belief. Hoped he would see it and take a step back in fear.

"I'm glad you did," Tikki said back, eyes bright as she looked up at Marinette.

She smiled back. "Tikki, spots on!"

A moment later, Ladybug was hooking her yo-yo around a nearby chimney and swinging into the distance. She waved at passersby when they stared up at her, necks craning as fingers pointed towards the sky.

She didn't stop, though, only pausing once to survey the city before nodding to herself.

There was no doubt that her appearance would start a few conversations, so Marinette made sure no one was following her as she swung from building to building.

"Okay," she muttered, twirling her yo-yo in a circle. She hooked it around a gargoyle and flew through the air, twisting so she landed lightly on her feet. Her landing made no sound, but her shadow pooled on the floor.

On the other side of the glass, Chloé looked up sharply.

"Oh," she gasped, looking up from the fashion magazine she'd been reading and running over to the glass doors that led to her balcony. "Ladybug!"

Chloé threw her arms around her. Marinette winced but patted her back lightly, trying not to flinch.

"Hello, Chloé," she said, keeping her tone straight.

"I can't believe you're here," Chloé sang, twirling in a circle in her excitement. "Come for a visit to your number one fan? Oh, we should totally get our nails done."

Marinette gently peeled Chloé's hand off her arm.

"I'm not here for that," she said, then quickly added, "but maybe a different time."

"Oh," the other girl said, obviously disappointed.

Marinette took a deep breath.

"You seemed to know I was coming," she started, treading carefully. A wrong move, and Chloé would know exactly who her hero was – and Marinette wasn't sure if she'd like her.

"Oh," Chloé said again, looking away. "Yeah. Marinette was right…"

"Really?"

"She said I should keep an eye out… for you. And you came! I can't believe it."

"Ah," Marinette said, rubbing the back of her neck. "She contacted me privately and asked me to come—"

"She has your number? Why don't I have your number?"

You could get anyone's number if you wanted, Marinette thought, but she kept her mouth shut, opting for a different approach.

"No," she corrected. "Marinette used the Ladyblog to private-message me."

Chloé raised an eyebrow. "The Ladyblog?"

Marinette shrugged guiltily. She tried not to be biased, but Alya really did run a great blog – her content was original, and she'd set up forums and other things that made the Ladyblog feel more like a community than anything.

"But why?" Marinette asked, gazing coolly at Chloé. "Why did she ask me to visit you, of all the people in Paris?"

Chloé opened her mouth and then closed it. She seemed to struggle with herself for a moment.

"I…" she started. "I made a mistake."

Marinette raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

This— this wasn't what she'd been expecting when she'd decided on a whim to visit. She'd wanted to hear the story from an outsider's point of view, but Chloé admitting to a mistake was something Marinette thought she'd ever hear in her life.

"I see," she said finally.

Chloé wrapped her arms around herself.

Marinette was suddenly hit with how important this moment was. As Ladybug – as a hero of Paris, as Chloé's hero – what she said and did could change Chloé.

For a moment, a boiling anger that Marinette thought was gone rose to the surface. She could berate Chloé, could knock her down a few pegs – and the temptation called, the want almost overwhelming.

But…

But Marinette knew better than that. She was better than that.

"What will you do, Chloé Bourgeois?" she asked, lifting her chin though she kept her voice kind. "What do you want?"

Chloé wavered. She bit her lip and hesitated.

"I want to be seen," she said finally.

Marinette looked at her, looked at this made-up girl in front of her. There was the bright yellow jacket Marinette used to poke fun at sometimes. There were her eyes — she'd always called them icy, though now they looked different. There was the girl she'd known forever.

Mayor's daughter. Rich. Snobby. Class bully. Queen bee.

She was all of these things and more. For a moment, Marinette let the names fall away until she was looking at just Chloé.

They regarded each other for a moment. Then Marinette reached out and put a hand on Chloé's shoulder.

"I see you."

Chloé smiled.

Marinette left the Bourgeois mansion feeling lighter. As she swung through the streets, she felt like she was flying.

There was a beeping as she flew past the bakery, and Marinette slowed, her heart racing.

"Hey, chaton," she said, grinning as Chat's face filled the little screen of her yo-yo.

"Milady," he said in response. His eyes were bright. "Heard you were running around. Don't you have homework to do?"

"Oh, hush," Marinette said. "It was important. And there's not that much, anyway."

"Finish that paper yet?"

Marinette turned her eyes towards the sky. Her mouth twisted into a frown.

"…No."

She changed the subject, perching on a random rooftop and propping herself up with a hand.

"Why are you transformed?"

"I could ask you the same question. There's always time for superheroes, though, yeah?"

"Always time to procrastinate," she mumbled, and he laughed.

"Just wanted to call in since we're both running around in the streets, heh. Do you want to meet for patrol tonight?"

"Um— sure," she replied, running over a mental list of what she wanted to do. She'd go home for dinner and a bit of homework; it was enough time.

"It's a date, then?"

Marinette scoffed.

"In your dreams," she replied without thinking.

"One day," Chat said, winking. She hoped he couldn't see her blush — he'd never let her live it down.

"I'll, um, see you later," Marinette said quickly, standing up and stretching out. "You know how it is. Things to do, places to be…"

He winked at her again through the little screen.

"See you tonight, milady."

It was after she'd almost crashed into some poor Parisian's window that she figured maybe swinging around wasn't a great idea anymore. Marinette detransformed in a back alleyway, the flash of light unnoticed.

"What a day," Tikki commented.

Marinette heaved a long sigh.

"Yeah."

"Not over yet, though."

Marinette just shook her head. "Let's go see Master Fu, huh?"

The wind chimes by the door sang as Marinette stepped inside, slipping off her shoes and twisting her hands together.

"Hello?" she called, hoping she wasn't intruding.

"Ah," Master Fu said, appearing out of one of his many rooms and beckoning her inside. "I thought you would come."

She followed him and sat down on the floor, criss-crossing her legs and setting the box of macarons she'd brought onto the table as Master Fu poured them both tea, a familiar sight.

Tikki herself settled on a spare coaster, munching away happily on the few extra cookies Marinette had brought for her.

She blew across the top of the tea, steam rising above her heads, before taking a tentative sip and hissing as it burnt her tongue. Master Fu laughed, and Marinette pretended to be mad, crossing her arms but failing to keep the smile off her face.

"This always happens," she muttered. Tikki giggled.

Silence stretched between them. Marinette wriggled uncomfortably as Master Fu studied her, looking as calm as he always did.

"I see you've been busy, Ladybug," he said finally, and Marinette blushed a little, though she didn't know why.

"I guess," she said, fiddling with her shirt.

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"Tell me," he prompted, and she huffed back at him, though she stopped when she realized it wasn't quite respectful.

"It's nothing you wouldn't know, though," she quipped, and Master Fu smiled.

"I'd like to hear it regardless."

Marinette let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping, and complied. She told him about retrieving her earring, about the akuma escaping and how terrified she'd been of it. How a moment of desperation had made her find the strength to reclaim Ladybug.

Once she started talking, Marinette found she couldn't stop. It was like everything she'd held back – from her friends, from her family, even from Adrien – now came bursting forth into the light.

She told him about Miraculous Ladybug, and about the statue: the dying flowers she kept on her table, the thousands of messages that had been left there for her, the piece of red thread, the Lucky Charm.

Marinette paused for a moment, pressing her lips together.

"Do… do soulmates exist?"

Master Fu smiled kindly. "I would think so, yes."

Marinette tried to find the words to a question that had been burning on her mind, but they all felt wrong somehow. Not quite right.

"But what- I mean, how…? Is it– are we, were we already…?"

Had fate decided she and Adrien were soulmates, whatever that meant? Had she long since chosen them for the Miraculous? Or had it been their own decisions – a single act of kindness to an old man – that had gotten them to where they were?

"You asked Adrien what he thought your thread meant," Master Fu commented. "What do you think it means?"

Was it fate that had found her unsung heroes and made them superheroes, a thread of red tied around their pinkies?

Maybe it was the other way around. Maybe they'd always been heroes, their ballads unsung — and no one had known, and this – this, all of it – had been about finding themselves.

Unbidden, her fingers rose in the air, searching for a hand to hold. For a promise made.

Master Fu smiled. His eyes shone with knowledge.

"It's dinnertime," he said, standing. Marinette stumbled to her feet.

"Right. Uh, right. Yeah."

He tapped his head with a finger.

"Think about it, Ladybug."

She bowed her head back at him. "Thank you… Master Fu."

Marinette went home with a heavy heart. She couldn't stop thinking about it – about all of it. She remembered the Chinese legends Mama had told her when she'd been younger, remembered the feeling of pure power when she'd touched her miraculous for the first time, remembered meeting Chat's gaze and knowing they were meant for each other in some way.

She was still thinking about it as night fell, tapping her pen against the table as she stared at her blank homework pages. Tikki had left her alone to her thoughts, lounging quietly.

"Marinette," Tikki called, the first time she'd spoken since that afternoon. "It's time for patrol."

She sat up straight, turning to look at the time.

"Oh, no, I'm going to be late! Tikki, transforme-moi!"

She bounded out of her room, taking a second to revel in the nighttime air before she was running towards the Eiffel Tower at full speed. The world passed in a blur; cool air kissed her face and tugged at her hair.

When she drew nearer, she saw a figure standing in the beams, waiting.

"Sorry," she called, swinging down to stand next to Chat. "I know I'm late."

He shrugged.

"Only just got here myself. Ready to go?"

Marinette took his hand and found it warm, even through their suits. She glanced at him sideways.

"Let's go."

Patrols were usually quiet affairs. They'd make their rounds, keeping an eye out for any trouble.

Marinette had always enjoyed patrols, though. It was a time for late night talks, for finding out new things about her partner – bits and pieces, of course, never enough to figure out each other's identities.

Well, she supposed. That part was all out in the open now.

"So what were you doing today?"

"Hmm?"

The two of them paused on a flat rooftop, and Chat leapt over to the edge, sitting down and swinging his legs over. After a moment, Marinette joined him.

"I went to see, ah, Chloé, actually."

He blinked at her slowly, for a moment embodying the cat he was. His green eyes, reflecting the city lights, looked brighter in the dark.

"Really?"

"Really," she said.

He nodded then bumped their shoulders together playfully.

"Want to grab a bite to eat?"

"Not a date," she reminded him, but she stood up anyway. They slipped into a nearby old café, smiling at the surprised waitress who almost spilled their tea as she brought it out.

They found a nice corner to sit in, tucked away by the windows. It was low key enough that no one would bother them, and the waitress in the front busied herself with cleaning some tables, though she glanced over every few minutes.

"So," Chat said in a low voice. His gaze flickered to the side. "Not a date?"

She frowned at him.

"Shut it, you."

He smirked at her but didn't push it – not here.

They chatted lightly instead. Marinette stirred her tea, watching her drink ripple, and lost herself in her thoughts again.

"Hey," Chat said quietly. Their knees knocked together.

"Sorry," she murmured after a moment. "Just have a lot to think about tonight."

"Chloé?"

She shook her head but said nothing else.

"I'm really glad to have you, you know," Marinette said, leaning back in her chair so she could study him. The moonlight framed him nicely, silver lining his shoulders and the side of his face.

"I'm lucky to have you," he replied, "though I don't know why you're still hanging around a black cat."

"A— Chat, why would you say that?"

He shrugged. "Bad luck, yeah?"

She pushed her cup aside and reached across the table. He took her hand without a moment's hesitation.

"I wouldn't trade you for anything," Marinette said. "Do you believe me?"

He swallowed thickly.

"Yes."

"I'm glad I met you," she continued, then lowered her voice until it was barely above a whisper. "I'm glad you're my partner. And— thank you, Adrien. Truly."

He leaned forward and lifted their joined hands to his heart. Marinette hoped he could see the sincerity in her eyes.

Fate or not, heroes or civilians, she'd been lucky to know him.

"Thank you, Marinette."

He let go and reached for his cup, holding it up. Marinette laughed quietly and clinked hers against his.

"To us," he said. Marinette glanced into her tea.

"To us, Chat Noir," she echoed.

He inclined his head. "Ladybug."

"I've been… looking for something…" she started, but her voice faded.

Across the city, Marinette imagined that red string she'd tied between them — and wondered if that had been her choice. Fate. Circumstance. Two kind hearts, two kindred spirits.

Searching, maybe, for something more. Always looking for something, for someone.

She'd found him first. A ladybug and a cat, an unlikely duo of sorts, but they'd made it work. And somewhere along the way, she'd found parts of herself, too.

Her hand found Adrien's. She curled her fingers into his and pressed their pinkies together.

I love you, she said through her hand. Marinette wondered if he knew, if he understood. She'd find the bravery to really tell him one day.

He caught her eye and smiled.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

Marinette ran her thumb over his knuckle. She studied the black mask that clung to his face, the light that made his hair a silvery-gold, the little details she hadn't realized she'd memorized.

"Yeah," she replied, smile spreading across her face. "I think I have."

.

.

.

the end.

...This is it, guys. This is really, really it.

I'd like to say a few things. First of all, I just want to thank every one of you for joining me for this story. Your kindness and your support have no bounds, and they bolstered me through hard times. This story is yours as much as it is mine.

I also just want to say that this story is so important to me. So, so dear to my heart. It started as a what if that became so much more. It turned into a letter to myself, a journey for myself. I became Marinette; Marinette became me. Her struggle. Her hardships. Her journey.

I hope you've found yourself somewhere, too.

Thank you for letting me tell this story. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

As for what's next— there's a sequel in the works, so stay tuned.

With all my love,

achieving elysium