“Marinette, sweetheart... can we come in? We haven’t seen you in days—we’re starting to worry.”
Her mother’s voice floated through the door, soft and tentative, like she was afraid to knock too hard. Marinette’s throat tightened. She couldn’t let them in. Not now. Not when her entire room was a storm of glowing kwamis and blueprint sketches. Not while she was in the middle of constructing a tiny hidden house inside her closet to disguise the Guardian Box.
She pressed her back to the door and shut her eyes. “I’m okay, Maman... just tired. Studying a lot.”
That was lie number forty-two this week.
The next morning, a knock. Lighter this time. Familiar.
“Hey girl...” Alya’s voice, cautious, concerned. “You haven’t been at school. I brought you the assignments. Nino says Madame Bustier's been asking about you.”
Marinette didn’t move. Her hands were smeared with grease from the new Miraculous power-up capsules she was testing. Outside her window, a faint rumble echoed through the sky — a new villain had emerged. Again.
She couldn’t answer the door. Couldn’t explain. Couldn’t risk it.
She used to think being Ladybug would be thrilling — a blessing. But the excitement faded. Slowly, then all at once.
Plans canceled. Friends ghosted. Assignments missed. Sleep became a rare and precious luxury. Every moment, she was either lying or hiding or both. Hawk Moth was getting stronger, more desperate, and she couldn’t afford to slip—not even for a second.
Days passed before she could bring herself to return to school. Her paranoia had become muscle memory: scanning for anyone who looked even slightly upset, desperate to prevent the next akumatization. Just one normal day—that’s all she wanted.
As she stepped into the classroom, the room fell into a hush. Eyes darted toward her like she was a ghost walking in.
“Ugh... do you guys smell that?” Chloé sneered dramatically from the back row. “It smells like... sourdough. Ever since DuPain-Cheng walked in.” She and her ever-loyal entourage—Lila and Sabrina—giggled like mean little seagulls.
Marinette said nothing. Just slid into the seat beside Alya, who gave her a small, worried glance. She looked like she wanted to say something—but didn’t know how.
“Hey girl...” Alya finally whispered. “You okay? You look... I don’t know... sad.”
Marinette opened her mouth. For a second, everything seemed calm. Chloe being a menace, Nino and Adrien shooting her worried glances—it all felt almost normal again.
Then the classroom TV flickered to life.
“Breaking news: a new villain has been spotted near the Eiffel Tower—”
And that was it.
The battle that followed was brutal.
Ladybug was quiet, focused, ruthless. Cat Noir tried to break through to her, cracking jokes, trying to make her laugh like he used to.
But she didn’t laugh. Not once.
She fought the villain too hard. Too fast. And when it was over—when the akuma was purified and the streets were restored—she didn’t say a word. Just turned and vanished into the shadows before he could ask what was wrong.
She ran the whole way back to school. Maybe, just maybe, she could still catch the last period. Maybe she could slip into her desk and pretend like she was normal again.
But by the time she reached the gates, they were locked. School was already out.
She stood there, panting. And for the first time in weeks, the tears came. Silent. Burning.
And then— A voice behind her.
“Hey... it’s good to see you.”
She turned. Adrien.
His smile was gentle, uncertain. His eyes were shining with something deeper than casual concern.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been... down. Depressed, maybe. I’ve been there. I had a friend once—I couldn’t help her, couldn’t reach her. I don’t wanna make that mistake again.” He hesitated. “Maybe I can talk to you? Maybe I can help this time.”
Marinette stared at him, eyes wide. Words failed her.
She had lied to everyone. She had fought monsters. She had built a secret life no one could ever know.
And yet, here was Adrien. Seeing through the mask.