Ladybug and Chat Noir constantly being frustrated that they do need to eventually plan out some different tactics to defeat hawkmoth other than just defeat the akuma when they show up—
But they are just so busy living their normal lives and not getting caught. They have so little time to get out of this rut, to get ahead, let alone bond. Both Marinette and Adrien are nodding, with bags under their eyes from lack of sleep when their literature teacher covers the story of Sysyphus.
LB and CN are both so frustrated they’ve known the other for years and still feel they barely know the other, and yet ironically would trust the other with their life. But even a little more bonding time would make it feel relatively normal.
Keeping the secret, they agree, is the most time consuming task of all.
And so one day when they finally have time to really hang out for more than 30 minutes, LB and CN take a good long look at each other and realize so much time has passed. Their baby fat has gone, their heights caught up a while ago, but now CN is several inches taller, shoulders broader, Marinette’s proportions have filled out to be more womanly. They laugh ironically, shaking their heads in disbelief. It’s a beautiful thing, and it’s a hurtful thing- they are grown now, their teen years taken from them by survival mode and bearing the burden of secrecy alone. And still they’re still fighting, the same stupid endless battles, still just barely getting by. It’s been enough to make each of them scream and panic alone in the night, feeling trapped, suffocated, like everyday is a repeated dream turned nightmare, and every morning they wake up, to later find out they’re still in the dream. It feels like they’re trying and failing to complete a difficult boss in a videogame- failing, respawning, failing, respawning. No help, and no quit button. Only bouts of sleep and distraction.
They are old enough now to be more independent and less unaccountable. So they both agree it’s time to run away and make a real plan. They didn’t expect the first several days to be emotional damage control, finally being able to talk openly. They know they should be planning, they know they should be striving, straining to get ahead of their enemy that keeps them pinned like collected dead bugs of whom he’s proud to make a show, an empty success in front of Paris. Chat Noir and Ladybug realize they need this, it felt awful to be vulnerable not so much with each other, but with themselves about just how painful the past many years have been. Full of adventure, joy, and fame, yes. But they agree it began to give way to profound loneliness and feelings of powerlessness, feelings of just being actors that entertained a city at the expense of their blood, sweat and tears. It has been cruel, it has been humiliating. Wins started feeling meaningless, because they knew the war would be endless til they changed tactics.
They agree they couldn’t have done it alone. They agree in laughter, “Screw Paris! We’re going to do this for us, okay?” They high five through teary eyes and hug each other in deep, deep thankfulness. Their love and trust is not romantic, it’s not even platonic, maybe familial- maybe one of a kind. Two soldiers fighting to protect the world alone, in secret, with each other. Friends forged in fire. A sister and brother born to help one another through adversity unlike any other. They squeeze each other tight and pull apart, sniffling, and smiling, feeling a great burden lifted off their chests. At the same time they confess:
LB: “I’d kill for you!!—“
They both burst into laughter and can’t stop grinning. It’s so true. They sure have their roles in each other’s lives.
Ladybug sighs contentedly. “Ladybug, Hero of Paris...”
“Chat Noir, Hero of Ladybug.” He winks cheekily. Ladybug admires his brilliant smile that has only gotten more handsome and endearing over time. He’s a man now but has all the sweet soft-heartedness as back when she met him.
They get to cooking together in the kitchen is the two-room secluded cabin they booked for a week. It may have to be longer, and Chat Noir assures her he can cover it. After the first few days they start to feel normal, remarkably healed, they find themselves hanging out like friends who have known each other forever. Having too much fun bonding over common interests, spilling way too much personal info. Even Ladybug, only one glass of wine in, rolls her eyes and bats away Chat Noir’s hesitance at her sharing about one of her favorite hobbies. They eventually overshare about their families, high school crushes, vaguely about part time jobs, and videogame opinions. They watch a few episodes of a show Ladybug things Chat Noir would like, and she falls asleep laying sideways on the couch, with her legs over his own- so comfortable and natural, it makes him smile, his heart flutter with those butterflies he still tries to set aside for his sanity. But mostly his heart feels warm, thankful and at peace for once with her. Everything is okay. They’re where they need to be. And they’re going to recover and overcome their enemy once and for all and be free, so they can be as close as this all the time, without running away to the wilderness, covering their paper trails and lying to their friends.
It’s going to be okay. And we’re gonna make it okay. Chat Noir, brow furrowed from deep thought, nods once to his own conviction like a soldier receiving orders from a commander.
He then admires the sacred sight of Ladybug’s precious sleeping face. She’s the best. His number one friend and favorite.
He feels more at peace, focused and empowered than he has felt in years.
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