Chapter Text
“Quick thinking out there today, mon petit pompon!” The compliment was followed by his partner’s hand ruffling his hair, which Chat Noir happily leaned into as they began night patrol together. There was a small laugh from Ladybug as a purr escaped his throat, which she responded to with ear scratches for her cat-like friend.
“It wasn’t hard, M’Lady,” he managed out through the contended hum, “just had to think about what you would do!” A cheesy smile unfolded on the hero’s features, resting his head on Ladybug’s shoulder when she descended to sit beside him.
They’d met on the rooftop just across from town hall— a spot designated “Lookout #14” on his lady’s meticulously crafted map of Paris— soon after Ladybug had reached out to let him know she’d have to cut patrol tonight short; she had a presentation the next day that she needed proper sleep for. Proper sleep in this case dictated that she would get a seven hour window instead of the usual four, which Chat typically spent most of tossing and turning. More often than not, this led to him falling asleep on his partner during patrols, and her comforting presence meant it was the only time he slept restfully. Ladybug had been bothered by it at first, but had now created a more flexible schedule in case he needed to sleep. She was mainly glad he never fell asleep during akuma battles. She did tease lightly about her “sleepy sunbathing kitty,” but had learned to tread carefully on prying into his home life after the first few awkward silences. Chat’s lovely partner had also let him know about a friend of hers whose place he could stay at, a Dupont student named Marinette Dupain-Cheng.
It was an uneventful shift, and he kissed the back of Ladybug’s hand as she bid him adieu. Unlike his beloved heroine, Chat was not in a rush to detransform and return home. After nearly half an hour of the undisturbed quiet ache of France’s sleeping capital, Chat Noir decided it was high time to head back to the Agreste manor, thinking deeply as he essentially pole vaulted across the rooftops.
As Adrien he’d begun school only a couple months prior, and had picked up on enough concerned glances to come to the realization his home life was atypical for reasons more than just his family’s obscene wealth. His father’s air of secrecy and darkness, paired with Nathalie’s habit to keep conversations brief, kept Adrien torn between the desire to snoop and inaction enforced by fear. Fear of what he may find, fear of what his few remaining family members could possibly hide from him.
The manor’s exterior was as cold and intimidating as the people inside usually were, especially in the brisk early hours of a fall morning. Stark white spotlight beams illuminated the entrance, casting dramatic shadows of the pillars into the house’s empty foyer. The route to avoid the cameras was muscle memory for him, and Chat sucked in a breath as his tail brushed the window.
His room was grandiose. If the floor to ceiling wall of windows wasn’t enough, the rock wall, basketball hoop, bookshelves, and centerpiece grand piano made it clear just how filthy rich the Agrestes were. Despite how the activity items filled the room, it perpetually felt desolate and numb.
“Claws in.”
With those words, Plagg’s influence released him, and the Kwami of Destruction gave Adrien a quick nod before retreating to his shelter. It was a locked box Marinette had jumped at the opportunity to make, and was only opened to replenish Plagg’s Camembert reservoir or hand wash the blanket samples used as padding. It wasn’t small enough that the kwami was uncomfortable, but Adrien could tell Plagg wanted to have more influence over the room than he had. It just wasn’t safe with Hawkmoth still on the menu, but Adrien had promised Plagg that once the butterfly and peacock had been returned to Master Fu, the kwami would get much more free will over their shared habitat.
Adrien’s exhaustion did a good job of lulling him to sleep, but he still felt the full force of his aching joints as he woke. With a creaky stretch he emerged from his lavish bed, gently tapping on Plagg’s ‘door’, letting him know their day was starting. The duo’s human counterpart had gotten dressed before the elder god had emerged with a shaky yawn followed by the usual slouched posture. They didn’t exchange many words before Plagg retreated into Adrien’s bag and they headed off to school, driven by the family bodyguard, affectionately called Gorilla. There was a sigh of relief as Adrien got out of the car and into the social environment of Collège Françoise Dupont, and he thanked Gorilla before heading up the front steps.
“Bonjour Adrien!” Alya called from the school’s entrance, Marinette standing by her side.
“Salut, Alya, Marinette!” It didn’t take long for the group to gather, and Nino met them as they climbed the stairs to the classroom. Most of the small talk was about yesterday’s akuma, but it was swiftly quelled when Mademoiselle Bustier begun teaching.
The first half of the school day was relatively calm, Marinette had a small slideshow talk on a culinary history assignment— paired with some delicious treats— and luckily there were no interruptions from Paris’ least favorite terrorist. They took their break for lunch, and Adrien noticed that Chloe’s demeanor was off as she walked out of class. They’d argued recently, mainly about her treatment of their classmates, but neither would really be able to stomach leaving the other, they’d been friends since their families decided to continue the allyship generationally. He could tell she was buzzing with anxiety, and was going to ask her what was wrong before his usual crew beckoned him to their corner.
He kept glancing over to Chloe, who was nervously looking around and biting her nails, a habit typically saved for full on breakdowns. Sabrina was tending to her, but looked about equally as confused as Adrien was. The bell rang, snapping his focus and causing his inattentive blue-haired friend to jump, making her best friend giggle.
When they re-entered the classroom, their teacher was not alone at the front of the room. As he sat, Adrien tilted his head at the girl standing there. She was wearing a leather jacket, covered in pins and spikes, and her nails were a similar matching black; the main pop of color was the bright pink streak in her hair, matching a small bejeweled flower pendant on a gold chain around her neck. It was pretty easy to recognize another one of his kind, and he realized just as it was announced what Chloe had been anxious about.
On Bustier’s instruction, the new girl stepped forward, introducing herself to the class. She beamed when she spoke, in stark contrast to the veiled dark look Chloe was sporting.
“Hello! I’m Zoé, I’m Chloe’s sister from New York, and I’ll be joining you all for the rest of the school year!”