Title: turn right
Pairing: Lila Rossi/Chat Noir
Summary: It’s too quiet, she’s tired, and all Lila Rossi wants is a friend.
read on AO3
This is part 1 of a my remix for @thinkoutsidethelovesquare for the Remix Challenge. I was assigned the insanely talented BrenanaBread and decided to remix their lovely fic, Lovebug. Hope I did it justice. Honestly, I saw the Jonas Brothers and jumped because hello throwback?
Lila doesn’t remember much about her time as an akuma.
If she closes her eyes and tries hard enough, she can faintly recall the wind rushing past her as she leapt over the Paris rooftops and the cold hand of an illusion clasped around hers. While she wishes to know more about the time she holds against herself, in a way, it’s a gift not to remember it. The things she did, the people she hurt—Lila doesn’t want to think about any of that. She just wants to stop hurting.
It’s bad enough being the new girl, outed as a liar by Paris’s famous superhero, but to carry the constant weight of the akumazation on her shoulders takes more of a toll than people realized.
Going to school is a long and treacherous road that she isn’t too fond of walking. It’s winding and windy, and she’s nearly blown off the path before she even scales the stairs to the front of the building. Already classmates who’d been fawning over her every word the day before are sending her curious but cold glances over their shoulders when they think she isn’t looking. A sick, nauseating feeling bubbles up in the pit of her stomach, and it takes all she has to push that fear and humiliation back down.
The sad truth of the matter is that Lila has no friends. As the new girl, while her lies helped her masquerade, now that the mask is gone, so is the mystery and intrigue. No one wants to get to know her because what else is there to get? After Alya heard Ladybug’s accusations in the park yesterday, everyone knows the truth now. Lila the Liar, as Chloe has taken to spreading, and it’s not like anyone has tried to stop her (just like it’s not like it’s not true). Lila knows she made a mistake by telling lies to get people to like her, but after the sixth new school in the last three years, could anyone really blame her? The lies were a quick and easy way to meld in with the new crowd of new people with new faces and new voices. She just wanted to be liked and have friends.
And that’s the crux of the matter. Lila is lonely, and all she wants is a friend.
But thanks to Ladybug, that will never happen.
Now she sits in the back of crowded classrooms, head buried in her hands, too afraid to face the world. She wonders how long it’ll be until her father relocates again. She has never wished for the day she gets to leave to come sooner, always dreading the fact since it means leaving friends she’d finally made (and even though they swear to keep in touch, the weeks fly by, relationships are strained, and suddenly Lila is alone again). It’s a constant cycle of coming and going, having and hurting, and loving and losing. The geography of Lila’s heart is full of high mountain ranges and wide, open oceans, barriers to block the capital city from complete destruction, but each day a little bit more is chipped away and crumbles to dust.
Watching her classmates from across the room, Adrien with the DJ, and the Ladyblogger with Gabriel’s Protégé… She wonders what it would be like to have a friend like that.
So, as upsetting as her akumazation was, a small part of her wishes she remembered it. If only to have one connection to her classmates, something everyone could relate too, because most of them had been akumas as well. Volpina may have been evil and hurt people, but something good could have come out of it if she remembered.
May she could’ve had at least one friend.
It starts three days after her akumazation.
Lila sits on the edge of her balcony, her legs poking through the rusty rails with bare feet kicking in the cool, evening air. Paris is different from Milan—quieter even in the late hours of the night—and it’ll take her a while to get used to the new setting. Which means sleep won’t come for a long time still.
She sighs and stares at the dark sky above her, which twinkles with clusters of stars and the soft glow of the pale moon, and she can’t help but think there’s something ethereal about Paris at night.
…She wants someone to share it with.
The thought leaves her in a whoosh, air jumping from her lungs as if a wrecking ball had slammed into her ribcage, and she can’t catch her breath. It’s funny, Lila thinks to herself, that she came out here to feel better, and all she succeeded in doing was remind herself of how truly lonely she was.
A burning sensation prickles in the corner of her eyes, and she sniffles helplessly, fighting back the tears that had been brimming for days. It’s been a long fought war against the onslaught—she absolutely refuses to give in now.
“Lila?” The voice comes from the corner of her balcony, and she starts, whipping around to come face-to-face with a pair of huge, green eyes glowing eerily in the dark shadow of her apartment building.
“C-Chat Noir?” she asks, breathless.
Chat Noir clampers down from his perch on the balcony railing, landing softly on his toes, and settles back on his haunches with a small, cautious smile. “Mind if I join you?”
Lila takes a moment to reorient herself, the world turning slippery as she faces off against one half of Paris’s famous superhero duo, who just days before had battled her akumatized-self. All she can manage is a small nod and gestures to the empty space between them, mouth still open in surprise.
Chat Noir flashes her a quick, blinding smile—teeth and all—and slips his legs between the railing, parking himself alongside her. “Thanks,” he says, “I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing.” Their thighs brush against each other as they kick their feet back and forth, falling in sync like a pendulum swinging in time with a clock.
He is patient with her as she struggles to form a coherent sentence. It’s such a drastic change from the scene she faces at school with cold, lingering glances from classmates who refuse to fall for her false smiles anymore. “Take your time,” he tells her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Why are you here?” she finally asks, narrowing her eyes in confusion. I thought you hated me, she wants to say, because why wouldn’t he? Ladybug had a basis for her accusations, even if Lila refused to admit it, and was quick to call her out and ruin everything for her. Why would Chat Noir be any different?
Chat Noir simply shrugs in response, tilting his head towards the sky instead of her questioning stare. “I always check up on people after they’re akumatized. Just something I do.”
“But I fought you,” she protests. “I could have hurt you—”A low chuckle falls from his lips and into the space between them, and Lila’s cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. “Stop laughing at me.”
“I’m not, I’m not.” But he’s still laughing, still shaking his head. “You’d just be surprised how often I hear that.”
“But it’s true! I could have hurt you!”
“But you didn’t,” he reassures her, leveling her with his soft gaze. “And everything turned out fine.”
She wants to say more because suddenly it’s so easy. Even if she can’t remember what she did during her stint as Volpina, she knows enough from news footage and eye witness accounts. Threatening Adrien, nearly succeeding in defeating the famed superheroes of Paris, scaring the entire city with fake meteors and bombs and weapons and she just… Suddenly, Lila realizes just how easy it is to hate herself.
It’s funny. She spends so much time trying to get people to like her, and she can’t even like herself… What kind of person does that make her?
Biting her bottom lip, she whispers, “I’m sorry”, as if it can make up for everything she did.
“Don’t worry about it,” Chat Noir says, shrugging her apology off with a nonchalant smile. He loops his arms through the bars of the railing, resting his chin on his shoulder as he stares at her. “It’s in the past.”
“You’re too forgiving,” she says, and there’s an itch under her skin, because people who are too forgiving get hurt easily, people who are too quick to forget make the same mistakes which got them hurt in the first place. She speaks from experience. It’s not a happy situation to fall into.
Chat Noir laughs again, but this time it’s bitter and hard. “I know,” he says like he understands too.
There’s silence between them now, and neither make a move to fill it. Lila can only look out over the city as if it holds the comfort she’s looking for. The moon looms over the world while the stars stand at its side like guards, the whole sky illuminating the two as they sit on her balcony. It’s an idyllic moment, the kind where lovers share the transcendent first kiss under the faint starlight, but all Lila can hope for is something else. Is it really too much to ask to have one friend? Just someone who will sit in her corner when the rest of the world walks away?
She glances at the superhero beside her and thinks about how he sought out her presence on his own, even though she’d never talked to him before, never lied to his face, never spread rumors about knowing him… They’re unacquaintances, strangers to one another. But in a way… That’s how all friendships started, right?
With a hesitant smile, she lets go of the balcony railing and holds out her hand to him. “I’m Lila,” she says, and it’s the first time she introduces herself to someone without an elaborate tale following it. “Lila Rossi.”
Chat Noir’s gloved fingers clasps around her own, claws pricking goosebumps along her cool skin. “Chat Noir,” he offers and smiles. “It’s nice to meet you, Lila… officially.”
“Thank you,” she continues, “for saving me from Hawkmoth.”
He squeezes her hand once more before letting go, wrapping it around the balcony railing again. “It’s my job.”
Something settles in her chest, like the pieces of her heart are clicking back into place in a tender but turbulent manner, careful and careless all at once. She turns back to the city in front of them, the large, beautiful city that stretches on for miles and miles in every direction. Lila thinks about the quiet and the stillness of it compared to the hustle and bustle of everything else she’s used too. Was worth it to keep trying to fit in here so long as there’s people like Chat Noir looking out for her?
“Well you’re good at your job.” She curls a loop of hair around her index finger, gnawing on her bottom lips again. “D-Do you always come to visit akumas?”
Chat Noir gently nudges her with his elbow. “You aren’t an akuma.”
Lila snorts. “Then what would you call me?”
“A victim,” he tells her, eyes softening. “We call you akuma victims.”
Her mouth falls open as she struggles to form a coherent response, left dumbstruck from the admission. She already knew the cat-themed superhero forgives too easily, but is it really that simple? He doesn’t just forgive the akumatized person; he never blames them in the first place. And somehow, that makes a world of difference.
“Victims?” she asks for clarification purposes. “But we’re—”
“You’re vulnerable.” He turns to face her, eyes burning into her own, as if trying to drill the point into her skull. “Think about it. When Hawkmoth sends his butterflies after you, you’re hurt. He purposely picks people who are at their lowest, when they’re at their most vulnerable and easily manipulated.”
“Well that certainly says a lot about me,” Lila interjects, but Chat Noir is already shaking his head.
“No, no, you don’t understand,” he says. “If you’ve been hurt or backstabbed, or embarrassed or angry, and you’re desperate and feel like there’s nothing else you can do? And suddenly you’re offered the power to set things right? To make all that hurt and pain go away? Well, why wouldn’t you take it?”
Lila snaps her gaze away, staring at the potted plant on the other side of her instead.
“Believe me, I understand. Sometimes I wish I had that chance.”
“To be an akuma?” She quirks an eyebrow high in puzzlement. “Why would a superhero want to be the villain?”
Chat Noir only shakes his head. “No, not the villain. I just mean… sometimes being a superhero is more trouble than it’s worth, and I want to just be done with everything, you know? Akumas get that opportunity, even if it’s just for a little bit, and even if it’s completely twisted and horrible but… I’d be wrong to say I don’t understand what it’s like for you guys. We’re all only human after all.”
We’re only human after all. The words echo through her head, louder than she’d like them to be, as the whispered words from a superhero speak volumes within her.
“I guess that’s one way of looking at it,” she says.
Chat Noir laughs, more to himself than anything, and leans back on his palms. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in on you, like I said before. You doing okay?”
It’s Lila’s turn to laugh that bitter laugh she’s grown so fond of over the last few days. “As well as I can be, I guess.”
She rests her elbows on her knees, leaning forward under her forehead is against the cool metal of the railing. “Just because you deakumatized me doesn’t mean things got better.”
Chat Noir turns quiet, smile fading to a small frown. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” she manages, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I thought it would. I only got upset because Ladybug had to fuck everything up, and I—”
“Hey, she was just setting things right,” he admonishes, his frown setting deeper, like a marble carving growing more defined. “If you hadn’t lied—”
“I know!” she snapped, whirling around to face him, eyes flashing wildly as anger brewed in the pit of her stomach like hot acid. “I know, okay? You don’t need to remind me. I already get enough of that at school, and I don’t need you laying into me too.”
Chat Noir is silent, and shame washes over her like the high tide against the shore. She wants to take those words back, but she can’t. Just like she can’t take back the lies, can’t take back losing Adrien’s book, can’t take back being Volpina, can’t take back anything… and suddenly, it’s like a raging fire erupts in her heart, and her hands clasp over her chest in attempt to smother it. Damn it, she’d been doing so well. She’d been nice to Chat Noir, and he’d gone out of his way to make sure she was alright. But now she had yelled, and he was going to leave and hate her, just like everyone else in this god forsaken city!
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” The words break through her silent, raging reverie, and she can barely process them. Lila refuses to say anything, worried that if she opened her mouth more than she intended would spill out.
Chat Noir continues though. “Sounds like you’re having trouble at your new school though.”
“I know what that’s like,” he says, and she rolls her eyes. “My first day at my new school, I accidentally hurt this girl, and she was really upset with me. Even after I apologized, I think she was still kind of mad with me for a while, but I just had to keep being myself and hope she accepted it, you know? If she saw I really meant it, maybe she could forgive me.”
Chat Noir smiles to himself. “Yeah, actually, she did. She’s one of my best friends now.”
Lila pulls her hand from the railing and toys with her fingers, needing to be doing anything to take her mind off of the situation, but the words still leave her lips because something tells her that she needs to be open and honest with him. “I wish I could have that.”
“Forgiveness?” he asks.
There’s silence again—thick and heavy like fog before a storm—but she pushes past it and forces herself to admit the truth. “I lied… to a lot of people, and I don’t know how to fix that.”
Chat Noir bites his lip, pondering the problem for a moment before suggesting, “I know it sounds easy, but apologizing might be the only thing you can do?”
Lila shakes her head, unable to even think about apologies, because those are the hardest things to do. Admitting your wrong, especially to the people you wronged, is scarier than moving to a new country, becoming an akuma, and dealing with the disastrous fallout all together.
“Lila,” Chat Noir says, expression softening as he catches sight of the fear and worry lining her face. “Apologizing isn’t supposed to be easy. Everyone knows that.”
“You don’t understand,” she protests. “They hate me. They won’t even listen to me—”
“There has to be someone,” he presses.
Her first thoughts flash to Adrien, but she shakes that idea from her head as quickly as it came. She had stolen his book and lost it, and she’d seen him roaming the library frantically as he searched for it. How can she even begin to approach him after what she’d done?
“Just… Be on the lookout,” Chat Noir tells her. “There’s gotta be someone who’ll listen.”
Instead of answering, Lila cocks her head and turns to him, a small smile stretching across her face. “Do you charge for these therapy sessions, Monsieur Noir?”
Chat Noir closes his eyes as a cool wind whips by, looking the perfect picture of ease. “Like I said, comes with the job. Wouldn’t mind a good tip though.”
“Working with Ladybug not enough for you?” she answers coyly. His eyes snap open in panic, and a dark pink flushes across his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure everyone in Paris can see how you look at her.”
“Well,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You aren’t wrong.”
“I know,” she replies cheerfully, practically beaming with pride at this point. “I can read people very easily.”
“Yes,” she says simply. She pokes his side with her index finger. “I can see right through you, Chat Noir. You two are dating aren’t you?”
“Can’t deny I’ve got a soft spot for the bug,” he admits softly, “But we’re not dating.”
“Oh, sure you… say…” Something in his sentence causes her words to trail off as she replays the moment in her head. Soft spot for the bug… Where has she heard that before?”
“Anyway,” he says, “We’re partners, and we look out for each other. And that’s just about it… Lila, are you okay?”
He cocks his head to the side, blonde hair falling over his forehead like a golden waterfall, and his green eyes are alit with concern, wide and open and just so honest. She’s taken back for a moment because he talks like he cares, like he’s worried, like he’s her friend even though they’d only known each other for a brief time. She doesn’t see this from many people, and she can only recall when Adrien look at her this way on the park bench when Ladybug was yelling and…
Suddenly, the world opens up, and even though it’s the middle of the night, the sun comes out and illuminates all the shadows she’d created. Oh, she thinks to herself, it’s so obvious.
Adrien is Chat Noir, and it’s so obvious. How had she not seen this sooner?
A slight smile creeps across her face, and he returns it hesitantly. “You okay?” he asks again.
“Yeah,” she dares to say and maybe she can begin to actually believe it.
How can she even begin to tell him she knows? And oh god, what if she’s know? But the more she looks at him, the quiet and kindness he ensues, the small smiles and the open looks… The more she’s convinced that she can’t be wrong.
Her fingers itch to hold onto something, so she simply wraps them around the bars of the balcony, staring straight out into the night sky. That haunting silence is back, but this time it’s lighter, easier to bear, and Lila can’t stop the smile from growing wider. What are the chances that Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste, and where is she supposed to go from here?
She fidgets in her seat, wanting to ask question upon question and dig deeper and deeper until there isn’t anything else to know. How does she start the conversation and let him know she knew his identity? How will she handle it from there? Does she confess to stealing his book? Oh Lord, would…
His words come back to her. Be on the lookout, he’d said, There’s got to be someone who’ll listen.
…Was Chat Noir talking about Adrien?
The thought takes her off guard, and she is pulled back to reality in a loud thunderclap. As she regains her bearings, she hears a low droning noise, soothing almost, like sweet lullabies during a restless night. Turning towards the superhero, she’s taken back when she realizes he’d been humming this whole time. She is stuck over here in a world of her own, the earth-shattering realizations cutting deep and hard into her caged heart, and he’s just humming.
“Y-You sound good,” she whispers, almost afraid to disturb him. She doesn’t know how to talk to him now that she knows Chat Noir, the superhero who cared, is Adrien Agreste, the boy she hurt.
“Oh,” Chat Noir says, finally noticing her snapback to reality. The blush on his face darkens even more, and he ducks his gaze from view. “N-Nothing, just bored.”
“Glad I could keep you entertained.”
“L-Lila!” He fumbles for an excuse, not noticing the grin stretching wider across her face. “I was just—”
“I know,” she tells him, and suddenly that’s all he needs.
There’s more silence, but this time it slowly dissipates when Chat Noir’s humming turns to singing. It’s a few lines, just a few bars, but he stares at her as he sings like it’s purposeful, as if the superhero is speaking to her directly in ways that simple words can’t express.
“So turn right, into my arms.
Turn right, you won’t be alone.
You might fall off this track sometimes.
Hope to see you at the finish line.”
“…That’s beautiful,” she says as the last note echoes between them, dipping and diving past her ears, until all that’s left is the sound of heart putting itself back together. “You… sound really good.”
“You gonna be okay?” he asks again, and she can only nod. “Glad to hear it.”
He pushes himself to his feet and unclips his baton, and she follows suite, a hand stretching out to grasp his elbow. But she doesn’t know if it’s to pull him back or push him away, because all he does is make her confused and hopeful. Like she has a reason to wake up tomorrow and go to school with a sliver of hope that things will be okay, that she might leave with a forgiveness and a possible friend. Or will it just lead to more hurt and an opportunity for her to lose what little she had left?
“Chat Noir,” she says, and he cocks his head, waiting for her to continue. At the last second, however, she lets go with a small smile. “Thank you.”
His own warm one mirrors hers. “I’ll be seeing you around, Lila.”
“Plan to visit me again?” she asks, breathless.
He ponders the question for a moment before nodding. “Consider it a date?”
“A date?” Her heart beats louder in her chest.
“A date between friends,” he clarifies, grabbing her wrist suddenly and pecking the back of her hand with a quick kiss. Then, with a flick of his wrist as his only goodbye, he launches himself off her balcony and goes sailing off over the Paris rooftops.
Lila, on the other hand, is caught between a promise and a kiss, with the secret that she holds dearly against her chest, and all she can do is echo the words of the superhero who saved her in more ways than one.
“A friend,” she whispers, “I… have a friend.”
And suddenly, the world seems brighter.
For the first time in a long while, Lila smiles.
And this time, it doesn’t leave her face.
