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A blinding white light flashes before Marinette’s eyes, as she opens the mysterious box that found its way into her bag.
When she finally manages to blink the spots from her eyes, a strange creature is floating in front of her. Red like blood, with black spots like death, and—
And—
All Marinette can feel is—
F̵̧̙̖̟͇̦̮͉̑͊̈́̈́ë̴̢͉̗́͗̓̚ȧ̵̪̎͆̓̔r̵̢̲̠̞̙̻̋̈́̿͗̾́.
She should’ve known better.
She should’ve thrown the box away the moment she saw it.
…known what better?
Why does the presence of this thing press down on her? Her chest tightens, a thousand denials claw at her throat—and—and—
She wants to scream.
Why?
Why does she want to scream?
What is she so afraid of?
The thing tugs at her mind, pulling at the undying echoes of a half-forgotten nightmare. She knows this thing.
No she doesn’t.
Yes she does.
She wants to know—
No—
No —
N̵̲̮̕͝ṏ̴́̋̾̌̉̓́͘ͅ—̴̢̡͔̳͕͈̱̖̒̇̃̅͂̓̅̉
Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a perfectly normal girl.
No she isn’t—
She has two loving parents who run a bakery. She won a scholarship for art and goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, one of the most prestigious schools in the district. She loves creating things with her hands and wants to be a fashion designer when she grows up.
She grew up in an orphanage, and never knew her birth parents. She once wanted to be an artist, but not starving took priority over achieving her dreams. All she wished for was happiness—
She is fortunate, in that her family is loving and supportive, and the bakery is well-known enough that they can live comfortably without worry for money. She is talented enough to make a living through her art, and that is exactly what she plans to do. She has no need for genies, or fairytales, for she has everything she wants in life.
Life was unfair, and the white creature offered to balance the odds. All she needed to do was make a contract, and give up a bit of her time for justice, and all she desired would be hers—
She isn’t particularly close to anyone at school, but she gets along with her classmates just fine.
There was a time, when she was a part of something more, something divine—
She has blue eyes and black hair, tied up into pigtails with two ribbons.
They reminded her of a familiar face, a smiling figure who soothed her worst nightmares, one that spoke of hope, of kindness, of salvation—
Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not a happy, fortunate, and perfectly normal girl.
There was a moment, or so Maman says, that the doctors weren’t sure Marinette would survive.
Everything was going fine, up to the point that Marinette came out of Sabine’s body. It was then that things began to go wrong.
The child would not cry, would not open her eyes, would not breath—
(Something had gone very wrong in that child’s creation.)
(A body without a soul cannot survive for long, in this universe.)
No heartbeat—
Sabine prayed to all the gods out there that her baby girl would pull through. That she would open her eyes, and live—
(The Devil answered.)
(Or—well—not exactly.)
(In that single, cosmic moment, the Law of Cycles was split apart. The soul of a magical girl—lost—slipped through the cracks—falling—falling—falling—)
(—landing into the body of a dying baby.)
False alarm.
The child’s heart was beating.
The baby girl opened her beautiful, gem-like blue eyes.
“Hello, Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” The bone-white blood-red thing says cheerfully. “Please, I need your help—”
It knows her name, her secret desires, everything—
“I am Tikki, the kwami of Creation.”
I am Kyubey, and my duty is to create magical girls.
“That thing you saw just now, the creature your classmate turned into, is an akuma. It is the product of the Butterfly miraculous, connected to another kwami.”
It is the destiny of magical girls to fight witches, sowers of discord and despair. Magical girls are harbingers of hope, and they must protect the happiness of ordinary people.
“The pair of earrings are the Ladybug miraculous. They allow whoever wears it to access my powers. You can gain enhanced strength, durability, as well as the magic of Creation.”
As a magical girl, you will gain immense strength and durability. You will have magical powers and weapons to help with your duty.
“Please, for the safety of Paris, become my holder so we can defeat the akuma!”
Make a contract with me!
Marinette cannot breathe.
Why?
Why me?
Why why ẅ̵̩̳̣̼̩̠̬̥͇́̈͘h̷̖̰͈͉̯́͒̈́͆̽͆͒̚y̷̼̘̬̹͚̦̞̝̩̙̻͇̘̻͐͒
The air presses down on her lungs, and a putrid, acidic fear coats her throat. She wants to go back to bed, pretend this…this thing never appeared. She wants to crush those earrings and scatter the ashes to the wind. She wants to throw the miraculous away, and run run run—
She wishes for a thousand, impossible things.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a̴̡̛̭͚̎͂͂͠ͅ ̷̺̰̞͋͛́̐̀͗̚p̶̨̯̭͓̼̼̓͗é̷̤̇̉̊͐r̴̢͙̩͔͚̖̰̂f̶͔̃́͝e̵̢͙̗̥̳̍́͐̆̅͜ͅc̵̦̣̝͓͕̏̓̔͒ͅt̷̛̛̩̙̗͔̻̅̓̾̂l̸͍͇͕̜͔̽̃y̴̛̜̤͆̆̔ ̵̛̬̝̩̤̒̿̃͊n̷̯͓̰̾̑͐͘̚ō̶̥r̴̦̱̘͍̘͌͜ͅḿ̷̢̙̥̲͐̔̊a̴̜͕̮̘͇̠̓̒̽̊͘͠l̸͖͇̫̚͘ͅ ̵͈̙͒g̵̬̼̱̈́̉ĭ̷͇̻̖̫̅̅̕r̶͚̬̔̈́̃͂̀l̸̰̻̻͎̘̲̄̋͐̿͌
“—rinette, Marinette!” The thing is speaking, leaning into her face, unnervingly concerned. It almost seems to frown at the terror on her face.
I̴͓͎͊͊͘t̶̟̅͂ ̶̨̢̪̝̼͉̑̚̚͜s̵̳̦̹̩̼͈͕̉̑̄͆ḫ̶̱͔̀͐̈́o̷̬̣̓̂͛u̶̧̻͙͇̘̘̯̍͊̔̉l̵̡͚̘̻̲̣̓d̵̥̘͗̂͊̋͌̎͝n̷͇͔͛͋̆ͅ'̷̨͖̲̩̥͐̂̆̀͌̒̕t̷̥̓̾͝ ̸̼̳̖̳̯̎̈́̕b̷̟̩͕̰̣̅̃̀̈́͠è̸͑̒̊ͅ ̶̨̧̫̗̫͉̌̓ͅś̴̳͕̕͘o̷̡̓͑̕ ̴̻̱͒͠ḥ̷̾͆̈́̉̽ư̵̖̬̟̣̬̏̇̈͝m̴̢̧̞͇̗̝̫͗a̴̡̍͂͒n̷̫̻̭͇̭̟͓͑̏͑̈́̇̐
Finally, the thing sighs. “If you really can’t do it, that’s fine.”
What?
Is it really letting her go, just like that?
“I’ll just have to find a different holder, then.” The thing flies down to lift the earrings, then pauses, contemplative. “Do you think Alya Cesaire will be a good candidate? I know you’ve only known her for a day, but—”
No.
No no n̷̥͚̪̱̻͎̅̏̏̊ͅơ̴̡͎̰̥̻̜͋͌͋
Marinette’s breath seizes again.
She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t. She’s only known Alya for a day.
She can turn her back on the entire business, right now, and no one will have to know. She can go back to bed, mindlessly scroll through the feed on her phone, and watch silently as another magical girl fights against the akuma Ivan turned into.
But—
The undying echoes of a life long-lost tug at her.
I wanted—
I needed—
Help—
I needed a hero!
What do you wish for—
What will you throw your life away for—
Never again—
No more contracts—
A warm, gentle smile, as the Goddess saves her from her wretched fate, as they ascend—
“No.”
The thing turns, a surprised façade painted across its features.
Marinette takes a deep breath. It does nothing to sooth the painful pounding of her heart. “I’ll do it. I’ll become your magical girl.”
A life for a life, a soul for a soul.
A sacrifice for a girl she does not know.
Never again—
Is this bravery or stupidity?
Something is strange wrong different about Tikki’s newest holder.
She feels it the first time Tikki’s miraculous cure washes over Marinette, and every time after. She sees it in the pale, haunted expression on Marinette’s face, the first time Tikki presents herself to the girl. She knows it the moment Marinette asks, a few days into her life as Tikki’s holder, what is the cost, what are you getting from this, what am I sacrificing, and not believing Tikki when she replies nothing, nothing at all.
The soul in Marinette’s body is tattered and worn, hazardously stabled to her body like it is not meant to be. It attempts to flee, to return to its rightful corner in the cosmos, the first time the miraculous cure washes over it. Tikki grabs onto the soul and repairs the failing anchors between Marinette’s soul and body.
It attempts to flee every time Marinette casts the miraculous cure after that, too. Tikki suspects it is trying to take advantage of her magic, the part that aims at restoration and returning things to its rightful place.
If Marinette notices the irregularities within her, though, she does not comment on it.
This is not a soul that Marinette came by naturally, through the cycles of death and rebirth. It is not a new soul either, recently emerged from its chrysalis and on its first cycle of life. It is not a soul that should exist in the cycle at all, so weathered and worn—it should be resting in one of the many Afterlives that exist in the universes, until the soul repairs itself.
Tikki has some theories about what happened. None of them are good.
Having Marinette as a holder is like having a frightened animal as a holder. Despite how naturally being Ladybug comes to her, it takes months for Marinette to come out of her shell, to trust Tikki the way a holder should trust their kwami.
The process was a long, painful one, and there were so many times Tikki thought of giving up, of finding another holder, but then—
She thinks of Marinette’s soul, fraying at the edges and barely sticking to her body. She thinks of the utter terror on Marinette’s face when Tikki suggested she find another holder. She thinks of Marinette’s kindness, and her fear—how at odds the two emotions are with each other.
This child needs her.
So, Tikki stays, and she is rewarded for her troubles, when Marinette finally feels comfortable enough to share her emotions with Tikki. Complaining about her schoolwork, talking about funny incidents that happened that day, moaning about the boy she has a crush on—all these little experiences that Tikki has heard about over and over again, suddenly take on new meaning when it is Marinette sharing them with her.
They settle into a routine, happy and content—
—that is, until two gods appear in Marinette’s bedroom one day.
There are two girls sitting on Marinette’s couch.
One of them has pink hair and golden eyes. Her hair is tied up in pigtails with red ribbons, and a bright pink gemstone shines on her chest. The girl wears a puffy princess skirt, and her smile is—
—familiar, too familiar—
H̶̥̹̥͌͆̋͛̚̕õ̴̡̜̬̜͈̱̭̎̍͒w̴̧̯̜̝͚̝͊̐͂̕ͅ ̸̢̢̘̥̝͎̾̈́͌̌͠c̴̰̰̲̺̤̟͠a̷̲̾͋̍̿̿̊̑n̴̺̠̣̭̙͇͗͗̿ ̵̧̭̖̜̈́ý̶̘̰̰͎̽̓͝ǫ̵̥̖̬̮͍̅̄͋ͅų̴̡̮̠̫͌͜ͅ ̶͍̑͐̃̏̋͘f̵̡͇̙͌̊͂̓̇̓o̷̧̢̲͔̓͌̏͑͛̿͝ͅr̵̨̬̈g̴͍͉̒͐̅̃̿͝ē̸̯̫͑͛̆̐͝t̸͔̯̩̮̘͊̉́ ̶̛̙̳̟̊̑̈́̀y̵̢̗͑͜ọ̶͌ͅu̸̢̪̰̒̓͝r̴͎̖̫͖̓̈́̆̌͝͝ ̷̥̮̜͠Ǵ̶̮̣̇̈́̐̿̂ͅơ̵͔̪̥̝̂͛̓͋d̴̙̼̫̭͕̤̃̓̈d̴̥̺̙̀͑͆͐̂̚͝ͅe̵͈̣̠̪̱̪̎s̶̙̰͎͈̅̒̾́̚s̵͚̖̜͕̳̠̞̓ ̴̭̖͙̰̀͛͘
Marinette shakes her head.
The other girl stares at her lazily with maroon eyes. She has long black hair and wears a pleated skirt. A purple gemstone hangs from her ear cartilage.
F̴̱̽̌ȇ̵͚̙̝̬ḁ̴͓̟͔̾͜r̷͕̣̯̞̥̈́ ̵̈̉̈̊̂͜ḧ̸͍̥̹̙̓͊͝ê̸̙̰͙͔̎̈̏r̴̩̝̻̚—̸̱͖͓̱̀̔̾t̵͉̏h̷͙̐̋̍ę̷͓͓͖̩͝ ̸̦̞̞̦̏͂͑̈͊D̷̰̭̅̍͊̐e̵͖̩̠͖̐͆ṿ̸̧̱͒͛̅ͅͅi̶̳͙̮̇̊͐̅̐l̵̘͉̠̖̭̐ ̶͕͇͚̝̘̃͊ŵ̸̯̭̋̚̕͘h̴͇̜̺͌̓̂o̶̧̝̓̿̿̐̈́ ̷̟̣̇̏͛̑t̴̖͓͚͍͒͛͋ą̶͈̭̝̒͊̍̇k̶̰̆̅̒͒ḙ̷̛̖̩̎š̶̡̜̭—̴̤̗̽t̷̝̅̔͒h̵͚̩̃̐̊͊ḙ̶̈́̀̏ ̶̢̗̜̈́͘͜͜ǵ̴͖̙o̵̝̓d̸͔̹̳͌ͅd̴̩̎̊̈́̕e̵̮̹̓̑̾s̷̭̘̱̺͐̀̑͝š̷̢̡̲̽̉̒ ̸̮̼̤͆͊͘͜ǫ̶̡̣̳̤̊f̴͈̪̳̳̞́ ̷̫̟̆͗̈l̷̛̼͉͖̞̀͝ō̵̜̠͍͕̳̌̂̑̇v̶͖̣͔̼͑͘͝e̸̛̝̟̓ͅ ̵͎͚͗̆͆͛ã̴̤̈͒̍͘n̷̙̤̊̈d̷̓̽̾ͅ ̸͈̺͔̳̝̔d̴̢̾̎̌̕͜͝ę̶͙͎͙̦̊̇͘͝͝s̴̏ͅi̷̧͔̣̔̂͋̕͜ṛ̵̌̊̒ē̴̫—̷̬͕̮̄̔͘t̷̛̪̓h̴̙̬̪͔̩̐̈́e̸͈͂̃͛͋ ̴̼̜̲͒͜S̴͓̦̙̙̈́ė̶̡͖͓͚̈́̓̉͠ͅl̵̢̟̎̌̾f̵͉̱̖̪̽͑̾͆͜ȋ̸̝͎s̵̺̀h̷̠͙̘̣̦́̏͒ ̷̡͈̠̘̼͐̌̾̑̋O̶͈͝n̴̰̱̭̦̓ę̴̲͔̳̜̒̇͝
Tikki, hidden beneath Marinette’s jacket, stiffens.
“Who are you?” Marinette asks warily. How did they sneak past Maman into her room? Maman wouldn’t another classmate in without Marinette’s permission, after what Sabrina did last time. Did they climb in through the balcony? Why would they do that?
How can you—
How can you forget—
Love her—
Fear her—
Familiar, too familiar—
A warm, gentle smile, as the Goddess saves her from her wretched fate, as they ascend—
She knows them.
The undying memories of a life cut short ḛ̸̡̢̛̺̦̥͉̓̀͝c̵̛̞͖̻̻̓̆̿͝h̸̨̬̗͍͈͊̌o̵͓̎
Ĺ̷̝̭̻̦̯̪̅͠o̵̙̎̄̇̿ų̵̛̞̞̼̔̌͆̌d̴̟̿l̶̦̟̽̐͝y̵͇̹͚̞̕
I̸̱̗͒͝ͅń̴̬͍͓̆̂̈͋͆ ̸̮͉̻͕̹̌̄̈́̍̌͑a̷̤̋̏̌͘͝n̸̯͎̆̒͝ ̵̩̭̼̪̙̦͐̊u̵̪͔̟̹̙͂̀̍ͅn̶̜̠̲̠̿̆͆͌͜͝͝e̸͖͜͝n̶̙͖̾̓̈́̕d̴̝̜̮͚́̍͌̊̀̕͝ḭ̸̛̮̘̰̾̊ņ̷̞̰̩̱̐̎͌͜͜ĝ̵͈͓̙̱̞̹͎̈̽͗̂͌̕ ̴̦̒̋̄̿c̵̦͌̋͒̒h̴̛͖̼͓͎̩̄͒̂̄o̴͍̲̲͙̣̎̓̌̓͜r̸̼̹̮̲̞̰̒͒͑͜ṷ̵̹̐̍̊̓̃͝s̵̢͍͉̹͑͛̆͝
“Oh,” Marinette breathes.
She remembers.
“You don’t have to hide, Lady Tikki.” The Law of Cycles, the goddess of hope and peace in death, She who Leads magical girls to the Afterlife, says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Tikki floats out of Marinette’s jacket. She tilts her head at the Goddess, “…oh. Of course. I should’ve known Marinette is one of yours, Lady Madoka.”
The Devil stiffens at that.
The Goddess laughs, waving her hand in the air. “It’s fine, Homura. She can call me that.” She looks at Tikki. “Thank you for looking after her for me, Lady Tikki. There was…an incident,” she glances pointedly at the Devil, “but that is thankfully resolved now.”
The Devil huffs.
Tikki frowns. “Are you here to take Marinette away now?”
What?
Marinette stiffens.
Why is that unexpected?
Why else would the Goddess come to personally pay a visit, if not to escort wayward souls home?
“Yes.” The Goddess confirms. She smiles at Marinette, “Are you ready to come home?”
Marinette remembers the feeling of being something more, something divine. She remembers peace, and hope, and never being hungry or scared or alone again—
Never again—
But—
She also remembers loving parents, a comfortable home, a goal dreamt twice, finally within reach. She remembers her friends, her partner, her crush. Maman, Papa, Alya, Nino, Adrien, Chat Noir—
Tikki—
“No,” Marinette says.
Right now, she has everything she ever wanted.
The Devil’s expression darkens. “You dare—”
A miasma of darkness and hunger and want rises, as the Devil’s human disguise slips—
Marinette chokes, the desire come want want want pressing down on her. She needs to go with her Goddess that is what she wants that is what she needs she cannot live without her Goddess—
“Homura,” the Goddess says gently, a hand pressed to the Devil’s shoulder.
The desire recedes.
Marinette gasps, her lungs filling with fresh, pure air. She wants needs—
No.
“You don’t want to go?” The Goddess asks Marinette.
Marinette swallows. She…no. She won’t change her mind. “My Goddess…thank you for coming all the way here to get me, but…I have everything I wanted, here. I received a second chance, somehow, and I…I won’t waste it. I want to…no, I will stay here, if you will allow it.”
Tikki is looking at her in surprise. Did she expect Marinette to want to leave, after how reluctantly she took on her role as Ladybug?
Somehow, against all the odds, Marinette trusts Tikki. And a chance to be a magical girl without sacrificing her soul—
Despite everything, she still wants this.
“Very well,” the Goddess says, “I will rescind my claim on your soul, and repair it so that you may rejoin the cycle of rebirth upon your death. You will still remember your time as a magical girl in this life, but those memories will be washed away along with the memories of your current life when you are reborn again.” She takes a deep breath, even though she does not need to. “If you want to change your mind, now is your last chance to do so.”
Marinette shakes her head, “Thank you for all you have done for me, my Goddess.”
The Goddess nods, “I wish you well, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She turns to Tikki. “Take care of her for me, Lady Tikki.”
A blinding white light flashes across Marinette’s vision, and then—
And then, everything fades to white.
When Marinette wakes up again, she is alone in her room with Tikki. She feels better than she has felt in both her lifetime.
She feels whole.
Her name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and she is not a perfectly normal girl.