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When Miss Bustier had told their class that Collège Françoise Dupont would throw a small festival for this year's Heroes’ Day, Marinette was less than enthusiastic. Being Ladybug and the Guardian already ate up most of her time so she did not want to add setting up a school festival to her responsibilities, especially one that was partially dedicated to her.
Her opinion changed when Miss Bustier told them that, in addition to helping set up the festival, they would also be required to write a letter to one of their heroes. Even as Miss Bustier explained that the hero could be anyone, not just a superhero, Marinette knew who she would write her letter to; Chat Noir.
There were so many things she wanted to thank Chat Noir for; both as Marinette and as Ladybug. She could do that somewhat as Ladybug but it was never enough. She never could thank Chat Noir for being a great friend to her as Ladybug because Chat Noir and Ladybug weren’t friends, not really. There was a wall between them, a wall they had to form to stop them from revealing too much about their lives to each other, to protect their identities. It was a necessary wall, for their safety and the worlds, but Marinette still came to hate that wall.
Many times she considered using the Rabbit Miraculous to go back in time to stop her younger self from being so insistent on that wall and on keeping things platonic between the two of them because now Chat Noir was just as insistent on it as she was back then and she couldn’t even complain because it had been HER idea.
So she couldn't really thank Chat as Ladybug, not for the things she really wanted to. And whenever she tried to thank him as Marinette he always shut her down. For as much as he boasted about himself whenever she actually tried to sincerely thank him he always turned it around to thanking her for all sorts of things, even things that weren’t a big deal (She lived in a bakery, it wasn't a big deal that she had asked her dad to save her some chouquettes every day in case he decided to drop by. She ate them in the morning if he didn’t anyway). But if she had to write him a thank you letter as part of a school project he couldn’t refuse and as Ladybug she could make sure he actually got it too.
Not to mention with a letter there was no chance of her getting carried away and saying something she shouldn’t. She had thought it was the perfect opportunity.
Now, as Marinette stared at another blank piece of paper and her bin overflowing with failed letters, she didn’t think so anymore.
She wished she didn’t need to write this stupid letter.
It had been over a week since Miss Bustier’s announcement, only two days remained till the deadline for the letters and she still hadn’t managed to write hers. It’s not like she didn’t have the time to write it, she had. She tried writing it for hours every day yet all the letters turned out wrong. Some felt too insincere, others were too sincere, in someone she got carried away and talked about how she was Ladybug or how she sometimes wanted to kiss him or how she sometimes wanted to kiss him as Ladybug. One time she completely spaced out and filled the paper with possible names for her and Chat’s future hamster.
Yesterday she gave up and tried to write a letter to Rena Rouge, but she couldn’t bring herself to write even one word. It felt like a betrayal to Chat to write that letter to anyone but him.
From what she learned as Ladybug, Chat had a very busy schedule in his civilian life yet she could count the number of akuma attacks he missed on one hand. And from what she knew as Marinette his home life was far from perfect yet whenever he saw her feeling even slightly down he did everything he could to cheer her up. He was always there for her no matter which side of her it was, she couldn’t write a letter to anyone else but him.
She picked up her pencil again and gave it another try.
Two hours and 17 crumpled pieces of paper later Marinette’s head hit her desk with a thud as she let out a groan.
“Maybe you should take a break Marinette. You’ll be much more focused after you rest up a bit. Maybe you can even eat something, it’s getting pretty late.” Tikki’s voice came from her side. She was the only Kwami who hadn’t grown bored of her attempts, the rest had stopped offering their support or making fun of her days ago.
“I can’t Tikki.” Marinette said, not lifting her head “I have to write this letter.”
“There is always tomorrow. You still have time, Marinette.”
“There can be an akuma tomorrow. I may need to help my parents, or babysit Manon, or stop a plane from crashing!” Marinette threw her head back and slumped in her chair “Ughhhh… Why is this so hard Tikki?”
“Maybe it would be easier if you just thanked him for one thing?” Tikki suggested floating above her.
“But who knows when I will get a chance to thank him without messing up again?” she picked her pencil back up and pulled out another piece of paper “No this has to be perfect.”
A couple more crumpled pieces of paper later Marinette heard a familiar knock on her skylight.
“AHHHH! Chat Noir! Oh no Tikki, I have to hide these. No, I can't risk him finding them. I need to burn them. I had a lighter here some-”
“Marinette!” Tikki floated in front of her “You can’t start a fire in your room. Just keep Chat on the balcony and he won’t see your letters.”
“Right. Right. Don’t let him enter my room. No Chat in the room.” Marinette took a deep breath. Tikki was right, she could keep Chat on the balcony. It wasn’t even cold out. “I can do that. Okay.”
With her panic somewhat under control she went through the familiar motions. She grabbed the box of chouquettes, made sure the Miracle Box and the Kwamis were hidden and climbed up the ladder of her bed. “Right. Keep Chat on the balcony. Don’t let him enter your room. If he does, he will read those letters and find out that I like him and that I am Ladybug and he will hate me and will never talk to me again and then Hawkmoth will win and the world will end. So I can’t let Chat enter my room under any circumstance.”
Chat was there, leaning against the railing, looking at the trapdoor as Marinette climbed out of it.
“I was starting to think you were too busy to chat with me.” he said with that self-satisfied smile of his and she felt her panic dissipate.
“I am busy.” she rolled her eyes, wordlessly handing the box to him “I just didn’t want you crying and scratching up my balcony.”
“I would never do that!” he said with mock offence as he opened up the box “I would have brooded in silence until you came up. And if you never came up I would have found a nice spot to brood on like any true hero would. If I got lucky there would be rain and lighting too.” He threw a chouquette up and caught it with his mouth.
Marinette chuckled at the mental image of Chat perched on the roof of the Notre Dame , checking the weather report on his baton hoping for rain to be extra dramatic. “Ah yes, you, brooding in the rain holding a soggy box of chouquettes. Like a true hero”
“I would eat them first.” Chat said, mouth half full “A hero never wastes food.”
Marinette showed his face, a smile tugging on her lips “Don’t talk while you chew, Chat.”
In response, Chat showed 3 more chouquettes into his mouth and started chewing them with his mouth open.
She groaned as she turned away from Chat and his chewing, a full smile on her face, and threw herself on to the deckchair.
Chat put down the box on the railing, making sure to swallow before speaking. “But seriously, I hope I didn’t interrupt something important.”
Marinette waved her hand “No, no. I wasn’t getting anywhere anyway.”
“Oh so you were working on something.” Chat said, interest piqued “Is it a new design? Something for Heroes' Day?”
Marinette went rigid. “Ye-yes absolutely. A design for Heroes' Day. Yup, that's what I was working on.”
“You making a me-ow themed dress for Heroes' Day?”
“Yup exactly.” Marinetes eyes went wide when she realised what she said “No! I am not making a Chat Noir themed dress. Or shirt. Or hat. I am not making a you themed anything.”
“Not even a handkerchief? Am I that bad of a hero.” Chat’s voice was filled with sorrow and his lips quivered with every word.
Marinette couldn’t believe her eyes. The stupid cat was pouting. She knew he was joking, she could see the smirk in his stupid green eyes but he was still pouting. Even his ears were flat against his head. She didn’t even know how he managed to do that.
She knew he was joking, was playing with her. Yet, annoyingly, it still worked.
“I wasn’t working on a dress.” she said with a sigh. “I was trying to write a letter.”
At that his ears perked up and tail started to sway. “Ohhh, a letter. Could it be a litter for your favourite cat?”
“NO!” Marinette blurted out far too fast. She could feel her ears burning. She couldn’t look at Chat. She had to think of something, of someone, or Chat would figure it out.
“It is… for my… dad?”
“Your dad?” Chat’s tone was as unsure as Marinettes.
“Yes my dad!” Marinette latched on to the answer as she jumped up from the lounge chair. “You see, my dad is great. He is always looking after me. Making sure I don’t stay up too late, eat too little. He always bakes something extra to hand out to people. So I really wanted to thank him for being so amazing this Heroes’ Day.”
“Well your dad is pretty amazing.” Chat nodded along, his eyes drifting to the box of chouquettes on the railing. “But why did you look worried about that?”
“Becasue… Because I don’t know what to say to him.” Marinette’s shoulder slumped “He is always there for me. I can count on him to always be there for me even when I am not the best pa-” she bit her lip before the wrong word slipped out “Daughter. Even when I am not the best daughter. He makes me laugh. When things get too much he always does his best to help me or distract me and even when he can’t do that he still stays because he doesn’t want me to be alone. He is just always there, even when I lie to him or keep him away. And I really want to thank him but I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?” Chat gently grabbed her shoulders “Just tell him everything you told me.”
“It’s not that easy.” Marinette said, eyes still cast down “He isn’t good at accepting compliments.. When I try he just deflects. So I wanted to write him a letter but when I try I can never find the right words or I say too much or too little and he deserves the best thank you ever butI can’t write it.”
Marinette could hear her voice shaking, she could feel tears forming in her eyes. Usually talking to Chat about things that bothered her made her feel better but not like this, not when she had to lie to him. Again.
“Then don’t write him the perfect letter.” Chat’s voice was soft. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Marinette. If you can’t find the right words just write down the words you could find. I’m sure he will get what you mean. He is your father after all.”
“Right. My father.” Marinette chuckled
“Just write what comes to you. Those will be the right words.”
“Thanks, Chaton.” Marinette finally looked up to meet Chat’s eyes, a small smile on her lips.
“You don’t need to thank me, Marinette.” He took a step back and gave her a bow “It is the job of a hero.”
Marinette rolled her eyes “Oh, so you give pep talks to every girl in Paris.”
“Only to the kindest, prettiest and smartest ones.”
“And how many girls is that?”
“One.” Chat winked “I got pretty high standards after all.”
Marinette couldn’t stop the blush that colored her cheeks or the jumble of incoherent words that escaped her mouth. And before she could get a hold of herself, Chat spoke again.
“It’s getting late. I better be off.” in one swift motion he turned away, grabbed the box of chouquettes and leapt into the night “Good luck with the letter princess!”
Marinette was left speechless on her balcony as Chat leapt away from building to building, her face still red.
Chat Noir sat alone on a rooftop the day after Heroes’ Day, in his hands was a pile of envelopes addressed to him from the students and teachers of Collège Françoise Dupont. As superheroes they usually didn’t accept letters or gifts, unless they were from small children as none of them could turn those down, but Ladybug had given them to him earlier that day. She had said that the students had worked hard to make a festival to thank them and even though they couldn’t attend it they should at least accept the letters. Chat couldn’t refuse the letters after that.
He just wished Ladybug had told her about this before Heroes' Day because his letter as Adrien to her was so bare bones it was embarrassing. He had no idea Ladybug would actually read it. But there was nothing he could do about it now.
He shuffled through the envelopes. There wasn’t much, probably around twenty five letters, thirty at most. Nothing compared to the over 80 letters Ladybug got. He’d be lying if he said the disparity hadn’t bothered him while he helped Miss Bustier sort the letters addressed to Paris’ superheroes before the festival but he didn’t really have any room to complain, not when he still counted himself as Ladybugs biggest fan.
His thoughts came to a halt when he recognized Marinette's hand writing on one of the letters. He put down the rest and examined that letter more closely. The envelope was plain white and there were no markings on it besides Chat Noir written in black but it was undoubtedly Marinette’s handwriting.
He couldn’t imagine why she would write a letter to him?
Carefully, using one of his claws he opened the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. He smiled upon seeing that hand drawn green cat paws and black cat heads decorated the margins of the letter.
Chaton;
I’m sorry, I lied. I was trying to find the right words to thank you, not my dad.
I meant what I said, you deserve the perfect thank you but I still can’t find the right words and I ran out of time to write this letter. I hope these will be enough;
Thank you for being a hero to Paris but more importantly, thank you for being a great friend to me.
You are meow-elous and paw-sitevely purr-fect.
All my love,
Marinette
PS: Those are all the cat puns you’ll get out of me this year so you better treasure them
He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out at her puns nor the butterflies that nestled inside his stomach at her closing. He fell back, looking up at the clear blue sky, clutching the letter to his chest.
“All her love... Maybe one day she will mean it like I love her.”