The day Hawkmoth had been defeated was also the day Marinette had lost a huge chunk of herself.

When Chat Noir disappeared without uttering a single word in the aftermaths of the fight, she thought nothing of it at first. After all, he had been forced to use Cataclysm twice during their final fight, so his kwami was probably way beyond exhausted and unable to maintain the transformation anymore. She dealt with the media on her own, grinning from ear to ear, explaining that Gabriel Agreste had been on a foolish quest to bring back his deceased wife, that he had been vanquished for good and that akumas weren't something Parisians needed to worry about anymore. She had praised her partner to great lengths, stars shining in her eyes as she spoke about all the times he had saved her life, had protected her from nasty blows, and how great their partnership was overall.

He was her best friend, her anchor, her everything.

She loved him, with all her being, and couldn't wait to be alone with him, free at last of heroic duties, to finally let him know.

The next day, she waited for him in their usual spot, giddy and nervous. After all this time, how would he react knowing she, unbeknownst to him, returned his undying and loudly proclaimed love toward her? She had always made a point to keep things between them strictly professional, but with Hawkmoth finally out of the picture, there was no need to hold back anymore. Marinette was even ready to reveal herself to him and face his inevitable disappointment if it was needed for them to be together. Her puppy crush on Adrien set aside, Chat Noir had always been the better half of her, she trusted him with her very life, he had been by her side through thick and thin all of those years.

She loved him. It was no silly crush, nor shallow infatuation. Her whole being belonged to him, heart, body and soul, and there she was, perched on their usual rooftop, waiting for her feline counterpart to join her so she could confess to him at last.

He never came.

Five years later, Marinette was still waiting.

Sitting on the old rooftop that never failed to bring back all sorts of memories, happy and sad ones altogether, she contemplated the horizon, the ever so familiar ache rising in her chest.

Five years, and she had yet to see those big green eyes again.

Five long years, and she had yet to hear another of his dumb puns again.

Yet, Marinette couldn't bring herself to give up. Every single night without fail she would transform, head to their secret meeting spot, and wait for hours. One day, he would show up. He had to. Her bruised heart couldn't handle thinking otherwise. One day, Chat Noir would come around, step out of his hiding and come back to her. She just had to be patient.

And patient, Marinette could be.

Five years, and she still was waiting for her kitty to come back to her.

The day Hawkmoth was defeated was also the day Alya Césaire's mind went wild with worry.

In the end, Adrien's father turned out to be the big bad guy, a stunning and unexpected plot twist that was revealed to shocked Parisians when Ladybug and Chat Noir had finally succeeded in putting him behind bars for good after an exhausting fight.

Unsurprisingly, Adrien reacted quite badly to the news, building a fortress around him allowed to be crossed only by a few chosen people. He sold the mansion, sold his father's fashion empire without even looking at the numbers at the bottom of the contract. He fired Natalie and the Gorilla with hefty severance pay and holed himself up in his brand new apartment for weeks before tentatively allowing Nino back into his life. After a while, and a lot of coaxing from Alya's persistent boyfriend, the blond had regained a semblance of normal life, enrolling into university in physics, going on small social outings with her and Nino and slowly moving on, despite his father remaining a huge taboo within their small circle.

Adrien's reaction had been expected, and quite normal all things considered. He was left without a mother, with a supervillain in prison as his estranged father, and without any real family to look after him and care about him.

But no matter how much Alya dearly loved her boyfriend's best friend and was happy to help him on the way to healing, it wasn't him that kept her up at nights, mad with worry and incomprehension.

In the few months preceding Hawkmoth's ultimate demise, Alya had noticed her best friend's interest in their blond model friend falter without any plausible explanation. She had pinned it as odd but never thought twice about it.

But ever since the final fight, Marinette had been acting really, really strange. She had closed up on herself like an oyster, not smiling really often anymore and even more rarely laughing. Her unique bluebell eyes were dimmed, just as if a spark that used to be there before had been snuffed out somehow. The young designer was always exhausted, sporting big and dark bags under her eyes despite going to bed every night way before midnight. When pestered about her lack of love life, or sudden lack of interest into Adrien's whereabouts, she would merely shrug. She would simply state that Adrien and she were friends, nothing more. Any more prodding into her personal life would be met with a stubborn silence.

And she was hiding behind her silence more and more each day. Alya felt as if her friend was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn't understand what was going on. She couldn't figure out how to help her, what to do to make her feel better.

To bring back the happy, bubbly and amazing Marinette they all knew and loved.

Five years later, and it still stung badly.

After all this time, Adrien still couldn't bring himself to overlook his father's unforgivable actions and go back to her like nothing happened. Revealing his identity was now off the table, not with the supervillain they had been battling together turning out to be his very own father.

How ironic. He had spent all this time abusing his miraculous powers to get the freedom he desperately needed from his father's stifling and obsessive protectiveness, only to put himself in great danger fighting his father's evil creation, getting hurt many times in the process.

How could he reveal himself to Ladybug now? He had been living in the same house as Hawkmoth for all those years and didn't even realized it. Heck, Hawkmoth's lair had literally been three rooms down from his bedroom, and he never even saw anything odd! How could he have been so blind?

Five years later, and he still couldn't muster the courage to transform again. To meet Plagg's rightful anger toward him for keeping him dormant all this time without a real reason to besides sheer cowardice and act like he was okay. Because he wasn't.

The ring was still safely locked in the safe hidden in his bedroom. He knew this for a fact because he checked every night before going to bed. He couldn't close his eyes without knowing his miraculous was still safe and sound. But he never touched the silver ring, afraid that even a mere brush of his skin would be enough to bring back Plagg.

A very angry and disappointed in him Plagg.

Back then, he had removed the ring because he didn't feel worthy of wearing it anymore. He had remained impervious to his kwami's desperate begging and arguing, unable to think straight anymore. Back then, Adrien was lost, lonely and betrayed. He had acted without thinking, only longing to be free of the burden coming with knowing.

Knowing he had had to pounce on his father to stop him at the last second from breaking his lady's neck. Knowing he had been the one to deliver the final blow, a second cataclysm ripping Plagg's very last resources to destroy Gabriel's ultimate akuma. Knowing he had been the one to handcuff his very own father and push him into the police car, handing him to justice.

Knowing he had badly let his lady down.

There had been reports all over the Internet for the last five years about Ladybug softly crying to herself on some not so random rooftop, waiting for something. Waiting for someone. At first, Adrien had honestly thought that his lady would grow tired of waiting for him rather quickly, and move on with her life like nothing had happened at all.

Five years later, he just didn't know how to face her anymore. Five years later, and he could swear he felt the painful ache he read in the familiar blue eyes.

He, too, was missing her so much the pain was physical. But he couldn't bring himself to face her rejection when she'd realized the partner she had been mourning for the past five years was the only son of her archenemy.

Five years later, and he was still a hopeless mess.

Horror stricken bluebell irises focused on the still-smoking mess laid out before her. She had been somewhat lucky considering the awful tragedy. She had been at work all day, buried under bolts of fabrics and Tikki safely tucked into her purse when the disaster had struck. Far away from hungry flames destroying apartments buildings and destroying one's material belongings without mercy. The essential were salvaged, in Alya's opinion at least.

Standing on the sidewalk, Marinette let her estranged best friend awkwardly try to comfort her. "It's not that bad, Mari. You still have your old room at your parent's house while they rebuild the building, and it will be brand new by then."

Groaning, the young woman desperately tried to hold herself together, unaware of the tears silently streaming down her face. Her voice was broken, hesitant, as she breathed into her best friend's bear hug, "Alya, I've just lost everything. The only clothes I have are the ones I have on currently, my computer was in there along with years worth of sketchbooks, and I really, really don't want to go back living with my folks. I love them, you know I truly do…"

"That's exactly why we backed up your designs in a cloud service last year. They're not lost, we'll retrieve them. And I know that you love your parents, girl. They're the best."

Her fists clenched beside her, Marinette went on with her train of thoughts. "But I really don't want to go back to living with them. They would more than likely end up badly spoiling me to compensate for my loss, and taking care of the bakery is more than enough for them. They really don't need an upset daughter adding herself to their already full to the brim plate."

That last statement was nothing short of the truth. Her parents were still working hard to keep up with the bakery's growing reputation, and since Marinette wasn't around anymore to help on rush hours they were on their own. Nevertheless, the young designer had to admit her apartment building was now nothing more than a fuming, burnt up and sorry pile of gravel. Thinking anything from it could be even be salvaged was merely wishful thinking, and the blackette knew for a fact that crashing for a few days at Nino and Alya's wasn't an option. They both had an unbelievingly hectic schedule, getting up and going to bed at random hours, prompting Marinette to despise every single night so far she had decided to sleep there despite her better judgment.

If she had to be realist, she needed a long-term solution. The former rather charming apartments building was now nothing more than a pile of sorry ashes, and building it back would take months if the owner even bothered to build it back. She had insurance for her furniture and such, sure, but it would take the insurance company weeks to pay up what she was entitled to receive. A rising designer couldn't afford a few weeks of going to work in the same outfit down to the undergarments.

As she pondered her options quietly, trying to think rationally despite the heavy and irreplaceable material loss she had just unfairly suffered, a friendly hand landed on her shoulder. "You could always move in with me, Mari. I have a spare bedroom available for you and I could definitely use the company."

And through her despair, due to her lack of better solutions, Marinette found herself agreeing to move in with Adrien Agreste despite her better judgment.