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The forest seemed to darken with each mile as though it didn’t want anyone to find an exit. The tree branches hung lower and lower, closer to the ground with each step Adrien took. And even though he could reach them with his paw, he didn’t because he was running, hissing and yowling at the branches hitting his face. He shouldn’t have left the house alone. He should’ve asked his mother to come with him. His heart threatened to burst from his chest at the sound of crunching leaves and branches behind him getting closer and closer to him.
He stuck his tongue out, panting from the dehydration and tiredness. And then he heard it. It was almost silent at first. Adrien’s ears moved to the sound, trying to find its origins. The realisation struck hard when the sorrowful singing grew louder. He knew it was a Banshee—the stories were shared through families in a hushed whisper as though saying them out loud would actually attract the source of this beautiful but deadly singing. His small cat form trembled from fear. It must’ve meant that he won’t be able to run away from his followers.
Adrien let out a pitiful yowl, more than ever just wanting to curl into his mother’s fur and purr. He tried to quicken his pace, his eyes focusing on the bit of light that fought through the thick branches of the forest. His eyes grew wider when he finally recognised the human form of a woman. Each step made her song louder, her eyes focused solely on him, her face morphed into a mask of remorse. Adrien was running straight into his death. He just hoped his mother would know about that.
He hung his head, a distressed purr arising from the deep of his chest, and the tiredness won out. The song suddenly stopped and a piercing wail filled everything around him. It was so loud—Adrien flinched, his speed lessening even more. His ears flopped to his head, trying to muffle the sound a little bit. Then he felt his follower attempt to grab his hind legs, making Adrien trip over the branch and roll over the ground. He howled and hissed from the fall, finally stopping by hitting the tree.
Adrien meowed, desperately begging his mother to come get him. He opened his eyes to see the huge cat form of his follower pitifully whining on the ground. The Banshee looked at him until the whining subsided and his follower’s body fully relaxed. Adrien swore he could see the soul leave the body. The scream stopped, making him chirp in relief. But when the Banshee turned to him and stepped closer, her face still sad and worried, he started hissing and growling at her. He could feel his fur standing on his back but felt completely pathetic—he couldn’t actually defend himself against her. Yet she stopped, her shoulders slumping, and eventually wandered away.
The next time Adrien met the Banshee, he was barely thirteen years old. He stepped out of his parents’ room after saying goodbye to his mother, a bad feeling heavy on his chest. He heard a lament, and tilting his head, he frowned, trying to hear more. Eyes wide, he knew he recognised the soft melody and words from a forgotten language. If it was even possible, the voice sounded even more glum than the first time he heard it. His hand went to his chest to keep his heart intact. He couldn’t help but feel it breaking into pieces with each note the Banshee sang.
With his lower lip trembling, Adrien broke into a run through the empty and lonely hallways and to the front yard. He could even appreciate the irony that this time he wanted to come closer to the herald of death instead of begging the faes to let him escape her song. The Banshee was standing in the middle of the garden, deep into the bushes of roses. Their petals seemed to wither in her presence. Yet her song didn’t get louder, and there were tear streaks on her cheeks. Her long black hair shone in the dim light of the moon, and her blue eyes were focused on the window to his parents’ room. She kept singing softly, her voice not deterred from the crying.
The song was the same as the last time. But now it sounded less threatening and more heartbreaking. Adrien couldn’t help his tears. He stepped forward, and the Banshee finally looked at him, not stopping her song for a second. Her face became even more sorrowful, the corner of her lips tugging downward.
“Please,” Adrien begged, getting closer, “please, don’t take her—take me, instead. You wanted to take me last time, right?”
The Banshee tilted her head but kept singing. Only now, her voice started becoming louder. He openly sobbed because she wouldn’t listen. He needed to run to his mother. He needed to tell his father. He needed to hug her one last time. He needed to say goodbye. But he couldn’t. There was no part of his brain that could accept that his mother would really be gone when the song stopped. So he stayed there, falling on his knees in front of the Banshee, as though he was praying.
“Please, I’m begging you… don’t take her away from me. Please…” he sniffed and looked up. Her eyes were focused on him, her lips trembling and even her song seemed to shake, “I will do anything you want. Anything. Just let her stay.”
The Banshee shook her head, closing her eyes and turning away from him. She moved away, her song getting louder.
“Please, don’t go! Stay! What’s your name?” he screamed after her.
She was almost at the gates when she turned around. Her lips were pursed, and only then he noticed that her song ended. His heart shattered with it. Yet she opened her mouth to answer him.
“Marinette.”
It wasn’t even funny, Adrien decided. His paws shook with fatigue but he kept running, pushing his limit. Why was everything in his life destined to go to shit? He tried so hard to keep away from forests when the stories of Hawk Moth spread out. His father made sure to scare him away with the scary tales. But the itch was strong, growing with each year. And eventually Adrien gave in. One run wouldn’t hurt, right?
It would. Just his luck he ran into Hawk Moth’s akumas. And now he was running, just like when he was barely the size of a house cat. His form had changed drastically from all the years of staying human, and Adrien spent a good time just grooming himself and preening inside because it felt so right. Now, he was cursing himself for his weak willpower. Though he was quicker than akumas, they had an arsenal of weapons, shooting darts, arrows and throwing knives after him.
Adrien charged through the thick branches, hissing at the scrapes they left on his skin even under all his fur. He wasn’t able to run for long. A dart hit him in his left hind leg, making him stumble. He tried to land on his paws, but his leg went paralyzed. The paralysis quickly spread to his upper body. He stumbled again, rolling through the dirt. His chest heaved, and he hissed through the pain spreading down his spine.
When the song started, he pathetically meowed. Not you. Not now. Marinette slowly moved through the forest, coming closer to him. He didn’t even see the akuma, his eyes solely focused on the woman. She had no problems wading through the branches—they made way for her. And she moved so gracefully, it seemed like she was floating. Her dark curls waved behind her, even though Adrien couldn’t feel any sort of breeze. Her song sounded almost cheerful, and he couldn’t grasp how the same words and the same melody could have such different connotations.
Was she happy to take him away? He closed his eyes, feeling the pain spread from his leg through his body. Maybe the dart wasn’t just paralysing him. If this was his time to die, he would take it. Maybe he could finally see his mother. His eyes opened, and he yelped in surprise when he found Marinette so close to him. She crouched in front of him without missing a beat of her song, and Adrien could count freckles on her cheeks. She looked ethereal. He gathered she was, indeed, ethereal. He couldn’t believe he never noticed she was very beautiful.
‘It’s okay, I’m fine with dying,’ he tried to say, but only meowed instead.
She smiled at him as though she fully understood his speech. Her song finally stopped, and Adrien heard a thud behind her. He blinked in surprise when Marinette put her hand on top of his hand, burying her fingers in his fur. He struggled to keep himself from purring especially at the knowing look the Banshee sent him. She scratched his head, moving behind his ears—the pain in his body subsided, and he could almost control his limbs. Adrien wriggled, trying to move, but she stopped him.
“I’m not here for you, mon minou.”
The next time Adrien saw Marinette, he was strapped to a wall. His chest was bare and covered with deep cuts—the smell of blood filled his nostrils and almost made him gag. He was weak, trying to keep his eyes open. When Hawk Moth’s akumas finally got him, they hadn’t killed him on the spot. Adrien was too tired to even think what that meant. There was another strike with a whip too close to his neck. The leather broke his skin again, the fresh blood seeping down to join the rest. His eyes started closing off, the image blurring together and spinning, when the song started.
This time it was angry, biting onto his skull and getting closer. Louder. Adrien saw Marinette through the fog. She was rushing without her usual grace, her eyes wide. She had finally come for him. He chuckled, his head rolling back. But she quickly reached him, cupping his cheeks. Her song didn’t stop, only got angrier and louder, hurting his ears. Her hands caressed the apple of his cheeks, and she looked so worried.
“Don’t worry, M’Lady, it’s quite alright. I have been waiting for this day since I was eight years old, remember?”
Marinette shook her head, not letting his head roll back and fall asleep. The tears moved over her cheeks, falling onto her hands. He tried to give her a reassuring smile but the fatigue got to him. His eyelids grew heavy, and she screamed. The wail was the last part—it was always the last part. His straps broke, and he barely registered falling to the ground, his chest burning from the gashes. Adrien tried to open his eyes at least one more time—he wanted to look at her one last time and tell her it wasn’t her fault. His attention was caught by the movement behind Marinette. Akumas moved toward her holding the net.
No! Adrien growled, struggling to stand up. Nobody hurts her!
He could care little about his own life, but he couldn’t let her get captured. He didn’t know when that started. Maybe her reluctance to choose him made Adrien fall for her. Now, for the first time in his life, he was scared for the Banshee. Akumas moved closer to her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Distress was clear on her face, and her scream still continued. So he shifted—it was done in a mere seconds, the fastest time ever. His form suddenly rose in front of everyone, the rage helping him stand. Marinette’s scream cut off with a squeal, her eyes wide when she saw him standing.
Adrien growled, jumping over her and straight into akumas, snarling and hissing. He nipped them a couple of times before stalking forward. And they got the hint, turning around and running away. He heavily breathed, all the injuries coming back at him, and turned to the Banshee.
‘Get on me, and let’s get out of here,’ he meowed and head-butted her arm when she stayed still.
“How—,” she stammered, her voice soft. “How did you do that? My call was for you.”
He stepped to her, hissing at the movement. Adrien didn’t know how long he could stay standing, and he didn’t want to hear another chorus of her singing. Not today.
‘Marinette, that doesn’t matter right now,’ she looked up at him, ‘but if we don’t go now, you might start singing again.’
It made her sober up. She nodded and got on him, apologising when he swayed.
When the mask finally dropped, Adrien couldn’t help but stumble back at the sight of his father underneath. His father’s face was contorted into a scowl, and Adrien couldn’t recognise the man in front of him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His father, the man, who spent all that time worrying about Adrien getting hurt, was that one sick bastard who hunted supers. He was the one who ordered drugging him in the forest. He was the one who ordered akumas to whip him until he was almost dead, so the Banshee had to come for him.
Adrien growled, but his father just looked bored at his outburst.
“Now, now, son, let’s not be dramatic.”
“Dramatic?!” Adrien raged, his muscles trembled, threatening to shift into his cat form and tear his father up.
His father tried to capture Marinette. He used his only son to capture another supernatural. Hawk Moth turned to Adrien, disappointment clear on his face. He put arms behind his back.
“I know you got close with this Banshee. I need you to call on her.”
“I don’t know how to contact her—she usually finds me,” Adrien scoffed.
Hawk Moth pursed his lips, and something passed over his face. Adrien could swear it looked like a regret. But the emotion was gone as quickly as it appeared. Hawk Moth schooled his expression, turning around.
“Pity. It seems I need to use the previous tactic,” he looked over his shoulder at his son, shaking his head. “This time you won’t be able to break free.”
Adrien’s eyes wide, he stepped back in horror. Was that real? Did his father just admit his willingness to kill his son to get something? He opened his mouth when the door behind him opened with a bang. Hawk Moth whirled, surprised at first before a sickening grin appeared on his face. Adrien knew who was behind him even without turning around, and he suddenly felt nauseous.
“Let him go, Gabriel,” Marinette’s voice was loud on the verge of screaming, but the fact that she wasn’t singing settled Adrien’s worries at least for the moment.
Adrien turned around. Marinette was magnificent even without her usual dress, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips pressed together. He hadn’t seen her in so long, his heart sped up at the possibility of kissing her. She glanced at him apologetically before turning back to Hawk Moth.
“Let Adrien go, and I’ll go with you.”
Adrien’s mouth flew open in shock.
“Marinette, no!”
Hawk Moth chuckled behind him and clapped his hands.
“Perfect, see, Adrien, your girl is much more sensible than you.” Marinette refused to look at him anymore. “Guys, come and take her!”
Adrien turned around, horrified to see the akumas burst through the door and head straight to Marinette. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. He abruptly turned around, breaking into a run and grabbing Marinette’s hand. She let out a meep in surprise but didn’t try to stop him. They ran towards the door she came from and got lucky, creating some distance from the akumas.
“You should’ve left me there,” Marinette panted out.
Adrien tugged her behind the corner, pinning her to the wall. He cupped her cheeks and leaned in, touching their foreheads together before leaving a small kiss on her lips.
“We can get through this.”
Her hands cupped his as though she was uncertain what to do next. There were tears in her eyes, and she sniffed.
“H-how?”
Adrien smiled, elated that she trusted him without a question.
“You scream, Marinette.”
She nodded, opened her mouth and screamed. And for the first time, Adrien wasn’t afraid to hear her wail.