The new school year approached with a quiet inevitability, bringing with it a weight of decisions Gabriel hadn't anticipated making. Adrien's condition was fragile, his emotional state still an uncertain territory Gabriel feared to navigate too deeply. The once bright, social teenager who'd thrived on attending school with his friends now seemed to be a ghost of his former self, and the thought of sending him back to his old environment felt cruel—like reopening a barely-healed wound.

After much deliberation and consultation with professionals, Gabriel decided to enroll Adrien in a private school—a smaller, quieter institution where he hoped his son might have the space to heal without the burden of his old life pressing down on him.

"Adrien," Gabriel said one morning as they sat in the mansion's dining room, sunlight filtering softly through the grand windows, "I've found a new school for you. It's private, very discreet. It might be... a good change of pace."

Adrien blinked, his expression impassive as he turned to face his father. Slowly, he reached for the whiteboard he now carried everywhere, the dry-erase marker hovering over the surface for a moment before he wrote in neat, controlled letters: That's fine.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by the quick acquiescence. "You agree? You're not upset?"

Adrien paused, then added another line beneath his previous words: I don't want to see my former friends anymore.

Gabriel's eyes widened as he stared at the stark black letters. The statement felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from his lungs. "What do you mean, Adrien? They were your best friends—"

Adrien cut him off by shaking his head firmly, his eyes dull and unyielding. He flipped the board over and began writing again: They were never my friends. Not really. I don't want to go back to that place.

Gabriel watched his son's expression, searching for any hint of emotion, any crack in the façade, but there was none. Just an eerie calmness that unsettled him more than any outburst of anger or sorrow ever could.

"But why, Adrien? What happened?" Gabriel asked softly, almost pleading.

Adrien's gaze drifted to the floor, his mouth a thin line. For a long moment, he didn't respond. When he finally lifted the whiteboard, the words were stark, simple: They don't know me. They never did.

Gabriel sat back, a chill running through him. He realized then just how little he understood of what Adrien had gone through, how much of his son's world had remained a mystery even before the breakdown. What could have driven Adrien to such a breaking point? What had caused him to push away everything and everyone he'd once cared for? The answer eluded him, lingering in the silence between them, and Gabriel felt the familiar, suffocating guilt coil tighter around his chest.

After Adrien had returned from the hospital, Gabriel had tried to piece together the fragments of his son's life, desperate to understand the depths of what had happened. One night, he found himself staring at the Miraculous grimoire, his fingers tracing the ancient symbols and notes that once held the promise of bringing his wife back. Now, the book felt like a mocking reminder of his failures.

The day Adrien had been sent to the hospital—barely clinging to life—was the day the truth had shattered everything Gabriel thought he knew. Nathalie, with trembling hands and a voice edged with fear, had told him about the kwami she saw, about the small, mystical being that had appeared, distraught and desperate, when Adrien was on the brink of death.

Gabriel hadn't believed it at first. He'd refused to believe that his own son could have been Cat Noir, one of the two individuals he'd been fighting against for so long. The revelation had left him numb, stunned into silence.

"How long... How long have I been oblivious to the fact that Adrien was Cat Noir?" he'd murmured to Nathalie that night, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief.

Nathalie hadn't responded, her gaze filled with a sorrow Gabriel couldn't bear to see. The implications of it all—the battles, the danger, the fact that he'd nearly destroyed his own child—all of it weighed heavily on his mind. It was one of the final factors that pushed him to give up being Shadowmoth. He couldn't continue, not when it meant risking Adrien's life again. Not when it meant the possibility of losing him for good.

When Adrien returned from the hospital, Gabriel noticed that neither the kwami nor the Cat Miraculous was with him. It didn't take long for him to realize that a new strand of Cat Noir users had emerged in the city—users who appeared and disappeared rapidly, as if they couldn't handle the burden for long. It was only after Gabriel had given the Miraculouses to Lila that he finally mustered the courage to confront his son.

...

One evening, Gabriel entered Adrien's room, watching as his son sat cross-legged on his bed, doodling absentmindedly in a sketchpad. He cleared his throat, feeling more like a stranger in his own home than ever.

"Adrien... Can I ask you something?"

Adrien glanced up, his expression unreadable. He didn't respond verbally, but he tilted his head slightly, waiting.

Gabriel hesitated, then forged ahead. "Were you... were you Cat Noir?"

The question hung in the air between them, heavy and suffocating. Adrien's eyes flickered with a brief flash of something—recognition, maybe—before he picked up his whiteboard and began to write.

Yes. I was.

No denial, no attempt to hide it. Just a simple, blunt admission that left Gabriel reeling. His knees felt weak, and he sank into the chair beside Adrien's bed, his gaze locked onto those three words as if they were a brand burned into his mind.

"How long?" Gabriel whispered, his voice barely audible. "How long did you—?"

Adrien shrugged, the gesture almost dismissive, before adding: Does it matter? I'm not him anymore.

Gabriel stared at his son, his throat tight with emotion. He wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to do something to make up for all the pain and suffering he'd caused—both directly and indirectly. But the words wouldn't come. He could only sit there, drowning in guilt and regret, feeling more helpless than ever before.

...

The day arrived for Adrien to start at his new school. He stood in the foyer, dressed in a crisp new uniform tailored specifically for him. The deep navy blazer and gray trousers fit him perfectly, but the clothes seemed to hang off him like they belonged to someone else. In his hands, Adrien clutched a small dry erase board and a marker, his lifelines for communication in a world he no longer felt a part of.

Gabriel stood a few feet away, watching his son with a mix of pride and sorrow. Adrien seemed so grown up now—taller, his features sharper and more mature. But there was an emptiness in his eyes, a flatness that made Gabriel's heart ache. He wished things were different. He wished he could turn back time, erase all the mistakes, and give Adrien the happy, carefree childhood he deserved.

"Are you ready?" Gabriel asked softly.

Adrien looked up, his gaze meeting his father's. He nodded once, then wrote: I'll try.

Gabriel smiled weakly, stepping closer. "I'm... I'm proud of you, Adrien. I know this isn't easy, but I think this new school will be good for you. A fresh start."

Another nod. Another silence.

"I just hope... I hope this change in scenery helps you find some peace," Gabriel murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Adrien's expression didn't change. He lifted his dry erase board and wrote: It's fine. Don't worry about me.

Gabriel's smile wavered, but he forced it to stay in place. "I'll always worry about you, Adrien. You're my son. I just... I want you to be happy."

Adrien blinked slowly, then turned away, his shoulders hunched slightly as if trying to make himself smaller. Gabriel watched as the driver arrived to take his son to his new school, his chest tight with hope and dread in equal measure.

As Adrien stepped out of the mansion, Gabriel couldn't shake the feeling that his son was slipping further and further away from him, like sand slipping through his fingers. He could only hope that the change would help, that somehow, somewhere, Adrien would find a way to heal.

...

The limousine glided smoothly to a stop in front of the new private school, its sleek, dark frame gleaming under the soft morning light. Adrien gazed out the tinted windows, his face impassive as he took in the unfamiliar building. It was a prestigious institution—tasteful and elegant without being ostentatious. Stone walls rose high, covered in creeping ivy, and the courtyard was meticulously landscaped with blooming flowers and neatly trimmed hedges. Despite its understated beauty, Adrien felt an uncomfortable tightness in his chest as he stepped out of the car, the driver nodding politely before pulling away.

The moment Adrien crossed the threshold of the school's entrance, he knew he was out of place. The other students, some in small clusters and others making their way to class alone, glanced at him curiously but quickly looked away. Whispers floated through the air, words exchanged in hushed tones.

"Isn't that Adrien Agreste?"

"I thought he died... What's he doing here?"

"He looks so different from the photos..."

Adrien didn't react. The stares, the whispers—they meant nothing to him now. He'd grown used to being an object of interest, but it no longer mattered. He kept his gaze straight ahead, walking with steady, purposeful strides, his back straight and his expression blank. Inside, the corridors stretched out like a maze, pristine and bright. Each classroom he passed by had large windows and polished wooden doors, the atmosphere exuding an aura of privilege and exclusivity.

But the splendor didn't faze him. He felt no connection to this place, no sense of belonging. Everything was foreign, and yet... Adrien found he didn't mind. It didn't make him anxious or lonely like it might have once. Instead, it was as if he was observing it all from behind a glass wall, detached and indifferent.

Students bustled around him, and Adrien kept his distance, choosing to remain alone. He stayed at the back of each classroom, silently following the lessons, barely registering the faces and names of his new classmates. He felt almost like a ghost drifting through the day, unnoticed and unbothered.

That was until lunch. He had just found a quiet corner near the courtyard, away from the hustle of the cafeteria, and settled onto a bench when something unexpected happened. A group of boys—older, louder, and brimming with arrogance—cornered a girl not too far from where he sat. Their mocking voices carried through the air, taunting and cruel.

Adrien's eyes shifted to the scene, curiosity flickering briefly. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but the girl's wide eyes and hunched posture were enough to tell him that it wasn't anything good. One of the boys shoved her lightly, sneering as the others laughed.

Without thinking, Adrien stood up. He wasn't entirely sure why he did it, why he even cared. Maybe it was a remnant of his old self—an instinctive desire to help. Maybe it was just a habit. Either way, his feet moved on their own, carrying him across the courtyard.

The boys noticed him before he even reached them. They turned, brows furrowing as they recognized who he was.

"What do you want?" the ringleader demanded, a sneer curling his lip. "This doesn't concern you, Agreste."

Adrien didn't respond, merely stared at them with an unblinking gaze. His silence seemed to unnerve them, the intensity of his green eyes disarming the boys more effectively than any words could. The leader faltered, glancing between his friends uncertainly. Adrien's expression didn't change, and the silence stretched on uncomfortably until, finally, the group broke apart.

"Whatever," the boy muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Let's go."

They walked off, muttering under their breaths, but they didn't look back. Adrien watched them go, then turned his gaze to the girl they'd been harassing. She was short, with dark auburn hair tied in a loose ponytail and soft brown eyes still wide with a mixture of surprise and relief.

"Thank you," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. She shifted awkwardly, her gaze dropping to the ground as if unsure what to say next. "I—um—I'm Cerise. You're... Adrien, right?"

Adrien nodded slowly, his expression unreadable.

Cerise smiled, a small, tentative thing that seemed to brighten her whole face. "I—I appreciate what you did. I, um, don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."

Adrien shrugged lightly, glancing away. It wasn't a big deal to him. He didn't need her gratitude. He turned to go, but Cerise took a small step forward.

"W-wait! Would it be okay if I... hung out with you today? Just for a bit?"

Adrien hesitated, his eyes narrowing slightly. He didn't understand why she would want to. He hadn't done anything special. Still, he found himself nodding again. It wasn't like it mattered.

Cerise's smile widened, genuine and relieved. "Thanks! I promise I won't be a bother."

And with that, Cerise stuck to his side for the rest of the day. She chatted nonstop—talking about herself, the school, the other students, and everything in between. Adrien didn't respond, not verbally or otherwise, but it didn't seem to deter her. If anything, his silence seemed to encourage her to keep talking, filling the empty space with her cheerful, animated voice.

By the end of the day, Adrien found that he didn't mind her presence. Cerise's words washed over him like background noise, and there was something oddly comforting about it—like the low hum of a distant melody. She didn't push him to speak, didn't pry into his life or his past. She seemed content with his silence, accepting it as part of who he was.

During his free period, Adrien was wandering the hallways, trying to find a quiet place to sit and draw when Cerise appeared out of nowhere, her face lighting up the moment she spotted him.

"Adrien! There you are!" she called, waving enthusiastically. Before he could even react, she grabbed his arm and tugged him down the hall. "Come with me—I want to show you something."

Adrien allowed himself to be led, not particularly curious but not having anything better to do either. Cerise stopped in front of a door labeled Fashion Club and swung it open, pulling him inside.

"Everyone, this is Adrien!" she announced brightly, gesturing to him as if presenting a grand prize. "He's joining the club!"

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Adrien—wide, incredulous stares that quickly shifted to awed recognition. Whispers erupted around the room.

"No way... is that the Adrien Agreste?"

"He used to model for Gabriel! He's his son!"

"What's he doing here?"

Cerise blinked, glancing around in confusion. "Um... guys? What's the big deal? He's just a new student."

Adrien's lips twitched faintly, the closest thing to a smile he'd managed in a long time. He realized then that Cerise didn't know who he really was. She thought he was just another student, a quiet boy who happened to stumble into her life. It was almost amusing, in a way.

The other club members quickly surrounded him, chattering excitedly. They asked about his experience as a model, what it was like to be Gabriel Agreste's son, and a hundred other questions he didn't bother answering. Instead, he just nodded occasionally, holding up his dry erase board with a simple, polite: Nice to meet you.

After the initial excitement wore off, the club members gradually adjusted to his presence. They treated him with a surprising amount of normalcy, no longer fawning over him or pestering him with questions. Cerise continued to hover nearby, oblivious to the stir he'd caused, chattering happily as always. To her, Adrien was just a quiet boy who had been kind enough to help her once.

And Adrien found that, in this small, bustling clubroom, he could almost forget who he used to be. For a few moments, he wasn't Adrien Agreste, the model, or Cat Noir, the hero. He was just... Adrien.

And that, for now, was enough.

Adrien's days at the new school passed in a strangely monotonous blur. He moved through classes and hallways like a shadow, never lingering, never trying to leave a mark. He showed up, did his work quietly, got dragged around by Cerise to wherever, and then disappeared when the day ended. No one really bothered to approach him, and for the most part, Adrien was left alone. His presence at the school made the headlines briefly—the press breathlessly reporting that Adrien Agreste was now attending a private institution, speculating about why he had left his old school. But the excitement died down almost as quickly as it had flared up.

The other students weren't as interested in him as the press made it seem. If they were, they didn't show it. Most were off-put by the distant, vacant look in his eyes and the perpetual silence he maintained. Others simply didn't care. Adrien had become something of an anomaly—someone they knew by name but not by nature. It was easier to ignore him, easier to pretend he wasn't there.

So Adrien carried on, drifting through his classes and free periods with only Cerise's chatter keeping him from feeling like he was completely invisible. He found some small solace in their routine interactions, where Cerise would talk animatedly and he would respond with the occasional nod or simple note on his dry erase board.

But everything changed one seemingly ordinary afternoon. It was during one of their language classes when the first signs of chaos erupted.

The girl who sat three seats in front of Adrien—Ivy Rose, if he remembered correctly—suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream. Her face twisted in agony, and dark energy rippled around her as her emotions spiraled out of control. The light in the room flickered violently before shattering entirely, plunging the classroom into darkness.

A chilling silence settled over the room, and then, in the blink of an eye, Ivy was gone—replaced by an akumatized figure, a menacing entity cloaked in shadows and bristling with hostility. The students all froze, stunned by the transformation. Even Cerise, usually so lively and quick to act, stood paralyzed with shock.

Adrien's eyes narrowed slightly as he observed the akuma, his heart beating in a slow, steady rhythm. He didn't feel fear—just a muted sense of déjà vu. He'd been in this situation countless times before, but back then he had been someone else... someone who mattered.

The akuma—now calling herself Twisted Cheer—let out a manic laugh, her voice echoing eerily through the shattered classroom. She pointed a long, jagged pom-pom at the students, her eyes glowing with malicious glee.

"I'll show everyone who's the best!" she shrieked, her voice cracking with raw emotion. "No one will overshadow me again!"

With a burst of dark energy, she lunged forward, aiming straight for Cerise. Adrien's body moved on instinct, stepping between them and deflecting her strike with surprising agility. His movements were fluid and precise, a remnant of his years of training as Cat Noir.

Cerise gasped, stumbling back. "Adrien, no—!"

But Adrien didn't flinch. He stood his ground, staring down the akuma with an expression that bordered on boredom. Twisted Cheer snarled, raising her arm to strike again, but before she could, Adrien caught her wrist in a firm grip, twisting it deftly. She yelped in pain, the dark energy around her faltering.

Cerise, snapping out of her shock, glanced around wildly. "Somebody, get something to tie her up! Now!"

A few students hesitated, then scrambled to find something—anything—to restrain the akuma. But Twisted Cheer wasn't done yet. With a vicious snarl, she wrenched free from Adrien's hold and lashed out with a wave of dark energy that sent him staggering back. She turned her attention on him, eyes blazing.

"You think you can just stop me?!" she screeched. "I'll show you—"

But before she could strike, a chair came crashing down on her head, the wooden legs splintering on impact. Twisted Cheer stumbled, more out of surprise than pain, and turned to see Cerise standing there, panting heavily.

"Leave him alone!" Cerise shouted, lifting the broken chair as if daring the akuma to try again.

A moment of tense silence followed, and then chaos erupted. Students screamed and rushed out of the classroom, the clatter of desks and chairs echoing through the corridors. Cerise grabbed Adrien's wrist and pulled him along, sprinting down the hall as fast as she could.

"Come on, we have to go!" she gasped, not daring to look back. Adrien followed without protest, his expression eerily calm despite the madness unfolding around them.

They burst into the courtyard just as Ladybug and the temporary Cat Miraculous holder—wearing a sleek black suit and mask—arrived on the scene. The two heroes moved in tandem, their synchronized attacks quickly overwhelming Twisted Cheer.

"Lucky Charm!" Ladybug shouted, tossing her yo-yo into the air. A bright red ribbon materialized in her hand, and with a few deft movements, she used it to restrain the akuma. The temporary Cat holder followed up, using their Cataclysm to shatter the corrupted object that held the akuma's power. The butterfly flew out, and Ladybug captured it in her yo-yo, purifying it with ease.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" she cried, releasing the cure. A wave of shimmering light washed over the school, repairing the damage and restoring everything to normal.

As the students trickled back into the classroom, Cerise and a few others rushed to Ivy's side, offering comforting words and gentle reassurances. Adrien stayed a few steps back, watching silently as the former akuma victim sobbed quietly.

"Hey, it's okay," Cerise murmured, placing a hand on Ivy's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

Adrien stepped forward, giving the girl a small, reassuring thumbs up. She looked up at him with tearful eyes, nodding shakily.

"Thank you..." Ivy whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"It's alright," Cerise said softly. "You're okay now. That's what matters."

But as the crowd of students began to disperse, Ladybug's eyes landed on Adrien. Her expression shifted from relief to confusion, then concern.

"Adrien?" she called out, taking a step forward. "What are you doing here?"

Adrien stiffened, shrinking back instinctively. He lowered his gaze, hiding behind Cerise as if hoping Ladybug wouldn't see him. The sight made Ladybug falter, her brow furrowing.

"Adrien?" she tried again, her voice gentler, but before she could approach him the temporary Cat Miraculous holder placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking their head slightly.

Ladybug hesitated, glancing between Adrien and her partner. She bit her lip, then nodded slowly, backing away.

"Let's go," her partner murmured softly. "We've done what we needed to."

Ladybug shot Adrien one last, lingering look before turning and leaping away with her partner in tow, leaving the school grounds and its shaken students behind.

Later that day, as Adrien and Cerise sat under the shade of a large tree in the courtyard, Cerise glanced at him curiously.

"Hey, Adrien?" she asked quietly, her voice unusually subdued. "Why did you... why did you hide from Ladybug?"

Adrien blinked, then picked up his dry erase board and marker. He hesitated, then wrote slowly: I don't have any good experiences with her.

Cerise stared at the words, her brow furrowing slightly. Then she nodded, accepting his explanation without question.

Before either of them could say anything else, Ivy approached them cautiously, her hands fidgeting nervously at her sides.

"Um... excuse me?" Ivy began, her voice tentative. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for any of that to happen. I've just been so stressed out with cheerleading tryouts this week and I—"

Adrien gave her another reassuring thumbs up, and Cerise smiled brightly.

"It's fine, Ivy! No one's mad at you. We're just glad you're okay."

Ivy blinked, relief washing over her face. "Really? You... you mean that?"

"Of course!" Cerise chirped. "Everyone's already forgiven you, so don't worry about it."

A small smile tugged at Ivy's lips. She glanced at Adrien, then at Cerise, and seemed to come to a decision.

"Um... do you mind if I... hang out with you guys?"

Adrien blinked, surprise flickering across his features. He hadn't expected this. He'd come to this school intending to keep his distance from everyone, to remain isolated and alone, but now... here was another person wanting to be part of his life.

Cerise beamed. "Sure! The more, the merrier!"

And just like that, what was once a quiet duo became an unexpectedly lively trio. Ivy and Cerise chatted animatedly, bouncing topics back and forth, occasionally asking Adrien questions that he answered with simple gestures or notes. Despite his original plan to avoid making friends, Adrien found himself gradually getting pulled into their orbit, his silence interspersed with their laughter and chatter.

His resolve to remain alone was slowly but surely being chipped away, and for the first time in a long while, Adrien felt something stir within him—something warm and unfamiliar.

...

Gabriel sat in his office, leaning back in his leather chair as he scrolled through a series of photographs on his tablet. His usually stern expression softened slightly as he took in the images. Each picture was of Adrien at school, but what caught Gabriel's attention were the two girls by his side. One of them was a cheerful-looking cheerleader with vibrant red hair, and the other had a keen, observant gaze, her sense of style reflecting her ambition to be an up-and-coming fashion designer. The girls stood close to Adrien, all three of them seated under a tree or in a corner of the schoolyard, engaged in what looked like relaxed conversation.

Gabriel zoomed in on a photo of the trio in the school's courtyard. Adrien's face still held that distant, unchanging look, but his posture was less tense than usual, his shoulders slightly relaxed. Cerise Xan and Ivy Rose, as Gabriel had learned their names to be, chattered animatedly beside him, and though Adrien wasn't smiling, there was a subtle difference. He wasn't retreating, wasn't drawing back into himself.

Gabriel's lips quirked upward in a small, almost imperceptible smile. Friends. Adrien had made friends. It was a word that Gabriel hadn't associated with his son for a long time now—not since everything had gone wrong, not since the accident, not since the isolation.

A soft knock on the door drew Gabriel out of his thoughts. He glanced up to see Nathalie standing there, her brow furrowed with curiosity.

"What's going on?" she asked, her gaze flickering between Gabriel's softened expression and the tablet in his hands.

Gabriel gestured for her to come closer, holding the tablet out to her. "Take a look."

Nathalie stepped forward, taking the tablet gingerly. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in the photos. "Is this... Adrien?"

Gabriel nodded. "The instructors at his school sent these to me. It seems Adrien has made some friends." His voice held a hint of pride, a rare emotion for him. "The girl on the right, Cerise, is in the fashion club—an aspiring designer, apparently and the other one, Ivy, is a cheerleader."

Nathalie's expression softened as she scrolled through the images.

"He looks... more at ease," she murmured. "Still not completely comfortable, but this is progress."

Gabriel nodded slowly, watching Nathalie's face as she studied each photo.

"I wasn't sure this new school was the right decision," he admitted, his gaze lingering on a photo of Adrien listening intently as Ivy spoke animatedly. "But... maybe it's what he needed after all."

Nathalie glanced up, a small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. "You've done well, Gabriel. I'm proud of you—and of Adrien. It's good to see him trying, even if it's just a little."

Gabriel's expression softened further. He reached out and gently took the tablet back from Nathalie, his fingers tracing the edge of the screen absentmindedly. "I just want him to have something close to a normal life again. Something better than what... happened before."

Nathalie nodded in understanding. "He's making strides. Let's just take things one day at a time."

Gabriel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Yes... one day at a time."

...

Adrien wasn't particularly surprised when Chrysalis emerged from the shadows of a quiet hallway, the dim light casting a long shadow behind her. He glanced up from his sketchbook, his expression unchanging as he took in the sight of her—her face obscured by the mask of her costume, the peacock and butterfly brooches gleaming dully against her dark attire. A faint hum of energy seemed to ripple around her, and the sharp glint in her eyes gave away her amusement.

"Adrien Agreste," Lila—no, Chrysalis—greeted, her voice a low, silky murmur. "What a coincidence, finding you here."

Adrien blinked once, then set his sketchbook aside. He picked up his dry erase board and marker, scribbling a quick response: I figured you'd end up as Paris' new villain sooner or later.

Chrysalis tilted her head, her lips curving into a wry smile. "Oh? And why's that?"

Adrien's gaze remained flat, his expression unreadable as he wrote: You've always been the type to want control. It only makes sense you'd take up Shadowmoth's mantle.

Chrysalis's smile widened, a low chuckle escaping her. "Perceptive as always, I see, but I have to admit, I didn't expect you to figure me out so easily. No grand confrontation? No attempt to alert Ladybug?"

Adrien met her gaze steadily, then wrote in a neat script: I don't have any good experiences with her. I'm more scared of Ladybug than I am of you.

For a moment, Chrysalis seemed taken aback. Then she nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "That's... interesting. And here I thought she'd be one of the few you'd trust."

Adrien shrugged, a simple motion that conveyed far more than words. Chrysalis studied him quietly, then let out a soft sigh.

"Well, since you don't seem inclined to play the hero today, I suppose I'll just leave you be." She paused, tilting her head. "But... I will give you one courtesy, Adrien. I'll make sure my akumas steer clear of your school. For now."

Adrien stared at her for a long moment, then gave her a small, almost imperceptible thumbs up. Chrysalis laughed softly, a sound that echoed eerily in the empty hallway.

"Such an unusual boy," she murmured, almost to herself. "I wonder what it would've been like if you had taken up your father's legacy instead of me."

Adrien's gaze darkened briefly, but he didn't respond. Chrysalis hummed, then turned on her heel, her cape swirling behind her as she strode away.

"Goodbye, Adrien. I'll see you around," she called over her shoulder, her voice lingering in the air long after she had vanished from sight.

Adrien watched her go, his expression still and silent. He didn't move until he heard familiar voices approaching from the end of the hall.

"Adrien!" Cerise's cheerful voice rang out as she and Ivy rounded the corner, their faces flushed from their recent cheer practice. "We were looking for you!"

Adrien picked up his sketchbook and dry erase board, slipping them under his arm as he offered them a small nod. Cerise beamed, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the courtyard.

"Come on! Ivy and I wanted to show you something we're working on for her cheer tryout. You'll love it!"

Ivy nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling. "Yeah, you'll be the first to see my new routine! It's going to be amazing!"

Adrien let himself be dragged along, a quiet sense of calm settling over him as Cerise and Ivy's laughter filled the air. For the first time in a long while, the weight on his shoulders seemed just a little lighter. As they made their way back to the courtyard, he found himself almost—almost—looking forward to what came next.