Chapter Text
"Honey, you're 15 years old. I think I can leave you home alone."
Manon looked up at her mother as she rushed out the door to get to the TV Station. "Hawk Moth is striking for the second time in a week since being defeated over a decade ago! You're going to leave me alone when a supervillain just came back?!"
"Manon, sweetie, you have to understand. If I don't show up to supervise these emergency broadcasts, they don't go well! I'm the only one still working there that was doing news during the time of Hawk Moth--er, I guess he's the 'first Hawk Moth' now." Manon's lip quivered at her mother's response. She was a big girl now, but she'd only become more attached to her single parent as she had gotten older. She was just as scared for her mother's safety as she was for her own. She could feel a nervous brown eyebrow starting to twitch, imperceptibly.
"Besides," Nadja glanced at the mirror next to the front door and used her pinky to blend the corner of her lipsticked mouth, unaware of Manon's escalating fear. "You know I'll be gone an hour, maybe two tops! Ladybug and Chat Noir always make quick work of Akumas!" She made a face of determination at her daughter in an attempt to instill some confidence. Manon glanced behind Nadja, the heavy wooden fire door drawing her focus. Just the same door to their apartment that had always been there, only now it was about to separate her and her all-too-determined mother, leaving Manon hiding away and Nadja loose in a city actively in danger. Her vision started to tunnel, a shade black as the night creeping at the edges, eating up her thoughts.
"Nobody saw Ladybug fight the Akuma that appeared the other day!" Manon reminded Nadja, "Chris was akumatized, disappeared, then reappeared de-akumatized like an hour later!" She was unsurprised that the first Akumatized person in 10 years was juvenile bully Chris Lahiffe. Ever since high school, the kid had become unbearable. Though her frantic brain began to sink toward thoughts of hatred toward the boy, Manon was able to pull her focus back to her negotiation attempts. She didn't need to give Chris any more of her mental energy than he already managed to consume during school hours.
"Ladybug sightings have been really scarce these last few years, Mom," Manon continued. "How do we even know she's still in Paris? Maybe they figured their work here was done when they defeated 'the first Hawk Moth,'" she reasoned, putting an average teenage amount of air quotes around the name, casting Nadja's own words into a different light. Nadja frowned, finally looking at Manon with her famous Mom Look of Concern. It always let Manon know that she had gotten through the tough, career-woman exterior and into the motherly side of Nadja. Manon's shoulders began to unknot. At last, her mother knew that Manon's concerns were seriously digging at her.
"Ladybug and Chat Noir are true heroes. They fought evil all around the world for years after Hawk Moth’s defeat. Do you really think they’d just quit on Paris because it’s been a quiet few years?" Nadja pulled the girl in, squeezing her tight against her right side. Manon could feel the hard ribbing of her mother's black jacket lining the side of her torso, could almost make out the outline of Nadja's phone in her pocket from the tightness of the hug. The gesture was enough to reassure Manon beyond belief. Her mom was real, vital, and she knew what she was doing. "If you are really this worried about getting hurt," Nadja spoke softly into Manon's hair, running a hand down the braid and tracing the edge of the elastic band securing it, "I can try and supervise over the phone with them." Manon shrugged, looking torn, before deciding that she didn't want to carry the guilt of preventing her superstar mother from being there to capture the re-emergence of Paris' most famous supervillain after all. She hadn't ever planned on dealing with the reality of living under the reign of a supervillain again in her lifetime, but she simply couldn't give in and allow fear the upper hand so quickly. She needed to have faith. Ladybug had never let Paris down before.
"You can go, Mom. I'll just think positive, then I'll stay safe, like Ladybug always said." They smiled at each other as Nadia wrapped Manon up in another hug and kissed her cheeks before heading back to the front door, this time actually leaving. The door swung shut automatically behind the woman and echoed a loud thud that would be the starting gun for the silence that clung to the rest of her evening, Manon assumed with a sigh.
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Manon contemplated her options. She could maybe just hide under her bed until her mom came home, signaling the end of the akuma attack. However, then she wouldn't be able to watch the live broadcast her mother was about to begin and might miss some Ladybug news. That would be a juicy treat after such a long hiatus on hero gossip. She reasoned she should remain in the living room with the television and just stay away from windows for the time being. The same protocol as for a heavy thunderstorm. Just like ten years prior.
Wrapping a heavy, handmade waffle-stitched blanked over her shoulders, Manon went to the kitchen to get a comforting snack and hunkered down on the couch for what might be a long night. After a few minutes of commercials whose insipid jingles helped rattle the remaining existential terror from Manon's mind, the broadcast began with a briefing by a newscaster before cutting to a live anchor downtown trying to get close to the action without endangering herself. Manon remembered a time when her mother was always the one monster-chasing, a time when Manon was too young to really realize the danger her own mother was in during every Akuma attack. She was thankful that Nadja was now in a more senior role at the station, not having to cover things on-the-scene anymore. Nadja's morning talk show was a hit across Paris, and she had every night off unless there was breaking news for her to supervise coverage of, like tonight. All in all, it had given Manon the time to bond more with her single mom over the years than she would have been able to back in Nadia's days as a roving reporter.
The flashy television sat atop a solid oak stand directly in front of three enormous windows. Two of the windows were at angles, complementing the center pane and creating a rounded alcove in which to tuck the TV. Behind the set, the skyline of her city cut jagged through the night. The lights of her fellow citizens, all certainly awake and shaky with anticipation as Manon was, drowned out the glow of any stars that would otherwise be seen overhead. Instead, she saw only a pattern of windows on adjacent high-rises. Unlit, unlit, unlit, lit. Lit, unlit. Lit, lit, unlit. Down the rows, down each column, she imagined the life going on behind the glass. The unlit rooms were empty, or the occupants were asleep, surely. Some of the lit windows showed her a microcosm of the life within. A couple on a couch, watching the TV like she was, probably waiting for the news to update. A child sitting at a countertop, fiddling with pencil and paper, likely working on homework. Some other lit windows had blinds drawn, the light merely glowing warmly from behind beige fabric, granting the occupants privacy that couldn't shield them from Manon's imagination. She hoped those inside were sitting together, feeling comfort in the company they shared. She hoped other people weren't feeling alone and afraid. She hoped she wouldn't have to feel that way, herself, for much longer tonight.
Manon was silently thoughtful a moment, bowing her head to think positive thoughts in the TV studio's direction, hoping it would magically grant her mother and the crew extra luck and safety. Hoping everything would wrap up quickly and bring Nadja home before long. As she opened her eyes, she was staring down at the coffee table, and something immediately drew her eye.
A small black jewelry box, embossed with an intricate, unfamiliar red design.