Chapter Text
Preface
Dear Reader,
Because of the sensitive nature of certain aspects of this story, it was very important for me to discuss my own position within this story.
In my own life, I have seriously debated the process of transitioning. However, I have not been brave enough to accept the challenges that come with this and continue to live within my cove of gender based confusion. This story has been written as a reflection of my research as well as some of my own fears regarding the transition process. It is important to me that readers are aware that my lived knowledge is limited to that of ‘gender-bending’.
I strongly believe that everyone who has decided to go through this journey is amazingly courageous - and I am proud of you.
I was worried about writing this story, but it wouldn’t ‘leave me alone’. It kept trying to write itself. This story will aim to highlight societal, relationship, and psychological barriers that I believe should be spoken to and highlighted. However, I do encourage anyone to reach out should they feel there has been a misrepresentation of any form or they would like to add any points that they believe should be spoken to.
Though Luka’s perception and journey is the pivotal core of this story, this is a Lukadrien story. This slow burn will take place over several years. I love this pairing to the depths of my soul and I’m excited to consider the pairing in a different light.
For anyone that has read my super angsty ‘Le Chat et Le Serpent’, I will let you know that this story will have dark moments, but is not going to be the soul draining depression of the last one (I have a different one lined up for that). But this story wouldn’t feel right to be dark for the sake of being dark. There are serious moments that I deem necessary in confronting the perplexing topics of identity, self-perception, and societal ignorance; but they are not the centre piece.
As stated, this story was both a way to reflect my own personal insecurities. I truly hope that this story can mean something to anyone, because as silly as it feels to say, it means a lot to me.
The Truth Behind Our Masks
Gripping the edges of the sink, Luka focused on his breaths.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
His fingers continued to tremble along the sink as his head lightened. He swore the breathing techniques were designed to get you high off oxygen more than controlling one’s heart rate. No matter how long he’d been standing in the mirror, it seemed whenever he stepped away, his legs would devolve to jello again.
Inhaling through his nose, he glared at himself in the mirror as he continued his technique.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
He eyed his pursed lips. Would his lips give him away? Everyone has lips. There’s no reason that his lips would give him away, right?
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Juleka’s reflection neared him in the mirror. When they were younger, their eyes were the only signifier that they weren’t identical twins. Their bone structure and stance had been nearly identical.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Reassuringly, she rubbed the top of his back. He’d been lucky to have such a supportive family. His mother had facilitated the logistics of home school so that he could comfortably start his testosterone journey while undergoing puberty.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
The height differential between himself and Juleka had served as proof of Anarka’s early affirmations. They were lucky that they’d both had tall genes, but the early interception had enabled Luka to jet a few inches taller than his twin.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Steps started to thud above them, causing Luka’s knuckles to whiten around the edges of the sink. Juleka leaned into her affection, wrapping him into a side hug, taking some of the weight she knew he was struggling to bear.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
“They’re good people, Luka. I trust them, or else I wouldn’t have invited them. I promise.” Juleka fixed her gaze towards Luka’s reflected cerulean eyes.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
“Thanks Juleka. Four, Five .” He vocalised the last of his numbered exhale.
The birth of Luka’s name was derived from a shared family sense of comedy as well as his own way to keep his new title within Anarka’s donned names. Though it was far from his dead name, it had been selected from his sisters. They laughed about the fact that it still aligned with Anarka’s hippie/pirate naming techniques.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
It was strange some of the aspects that initially caused the greatest anxiety. Hurting his mom’s feelings by erasing his given name was one of them. He’d heard too many tales of parents refusing to abide by the new name, aggressively attached to the fact that they’d chosen the gift of their first name.
He should have known that Anarka was not one of those parents. His mom was a constant advocate for human rights and identity confirmation.
As was said, he was one of the lucky ones.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Even if that was true, he still noted the glint of admiration when he’d chosen to take the second half of Juleka’s name. It may have been surrounded by Couffaine humour, but the gratitude was illuminated by her blushed cheeks.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
“Juleka! Your guests are here!” Anarka marched into their room.
She paused at the sight of her children in the bathroom, a flush of pride flowing through her veins. Though they were not above their sibling rivalry, when it mattered, they took care of each other in an unparalleled manner.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
“Are you going to be okay?” Juleka tilted her face to examine Luka’s.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
He nodded, not even fooling himself.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
“Juleka,” Anarka began, “why don’t you greet your guests and we’ll give Luka a few more minutes?”
Luka’s back chilled as Juleka’s hands receded. His breath hitched, he hadn’t realised the extent to which she’d been aiding him.
In. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
He watched as her reflection shrank, leaving to greet her awaiting friends.
“Luka.” Anarka stepped into the cramped bathroom with him.
Out. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
Placing her hand over his, she lightly squeezed. “I know this is a big step for you. Why don’t you take a few minutes to meditate?”
Gritting his teeth, he nodded in agreement. The flick of his jaw caught his eye. His face had been widening, but it still held some of the feminine slant it had before.
Is it going to be my jaw that gives me away? Will they really not know?
“Hey.” Anarka shifted her body to interrupt Luka’s hyperfixation on his reflection. “You see the flaws because you grew up only knowing a certain face. They won’t know any different. I don’t want you living in such isolation anymore, Luka. It’s important for your mental health that you start making social connections.”
Her tone was warm but unyieldingly firm. She wanted what was best for Luka and, much to his chagrin, that included a social aspect. She’d encouraged him to join forums and join the Pride community where she could, but Luka kept forcing himself into seclusion.
“I know , Mom.” Luka whined as he released the sink.
“Look.” She put the arm closest to him around his back and the other pinched his chin, directing him back to the mirror. “This is my handsome boy. Who has more muscles than nearly any high school kid I’ve ever met.”
Anarka poked at his bicep; it had been important to him to bulk up. Anything to differentiate himself from the svelte frame he’d had before. Luka couldn’t control his smirk as Anarka continued to playfully jab at his muscles.
“You get a few minutes. Then I’m sending one of the newcomers down.” Anarka warned.
His choice was to muster up the courage to get there before Juleka’s friend came down or face a new individual without Juleka’s shelter.
“Deal?” She turned Luka’s face towards hers.
Sighing, Luka nodded in defeat.
“I love you kid, but if you don’t leave the ship at least once in a while, you’re going to drive me crazy.” Anarka chuckled before pecking his cheek.
Pausing by the door, she turned back to Luka. “Don’t let your anxiety mask who you are. You’re strong, brilliant, and an incredible musician. If anyone doesn’t accept you for who you are, it’s their damn loss.”
Her fingers drummed the edge of the doorway before she exited.
His insides warmed as he sat upon his bed. He’d focus his meditation on prolonging the effect of his mother’s praise.
Now.
Luka tried to jolt his body to movement but remained in stasis.
Fuck! You can do it! Rose will be there too and you know she’ll misdirect anyone’s comments.
Just get off the bed.
And go.
And… NOW.
… or not.
His thoughts continued to reel as steps approached his room.
Uh oh. I took too long. What poor victim has been sent to herd me?
“Eiih!” A startled feminine voice filled the room, as well as the resonation of tumbling steps. “Uh…”
Luka could feel her gaze upon him.
She’s looking at you bro. You’ve got this. She’s literally just a person. There has to be a reason the Captain picked her out of Juleka’s friends.
Pinching his pick one last time, he opened his eyes while flashing a soft smile.
The girl immediately stammered over herself.
She’s more nervous than I am. Luka mused as she stumbled over her words with an awkward wave. Oh Anarka, you can truly be cruel sometimes. The corner of Luka’s lips threatened a smile as she tripped over her name.
“Ma-ma-Marinette!” Her cheeks had nearly skipped pink and transitioned straight to red. “The groove - uh - the group’s waiting for you!”
Her demeanour effectively broke down Luka’s wall. There was an evident reason as to why Anarka chose her, she was more of an anxious wreck than he was!
“Hello Ma-Ma-Marinette,” Luka giggled at the repetition of her name.
Her face dropped immediately.
Shit. Anxiety. Right. I need to figure out how to talk to people again.
“Sorry, uh, I tend to make more sense with this.” Luka reached for the guitar beside him. And I’ve found that music is an integral tool in managing anxiety. It takes away the onus to speak when one can’t fetch the proper words.
Her demeanour flipped with the first strum of the strings. In a further ploy to counteract her anxiety, he patted towards the bed. In theory, she would be more likely to feel comfortable in having the option to look away and escape the situation itself. He wanted to remove her struggle to maintain composure.
As she stepped closer, Luka focused on her body language. It was strange, for someone so anxious her melody seemed to counteract it. Her subconscious grace reminded him of a ballet dancer, while her gleaming eyes reminded him of rock festivals under clear blue skies.
“That’s strange,” he stated as she positioned herself on the bed, “it seems as though you have something like this in your heart.”
He let the first notes flow from oblivion. From the reflection of her soft composure. When he opened his eyes, she’d already started to relax, losing herself in the music.
Hmm… Luka pondered as he attempted to define the notes he could feel into words. Like a river. Steady yet ever changing. Relaxed yet constantly at war with itself, thrashing along coasts of the direction she wants to go and the direction she’s pulled towards. But not from others, her roaring battle is within herself. A muted battle of countering self-perceptions…. Silent… yet deafeningly loud. One cannot be by a river without being unaware of its presence, yet paradoxically can sing into nothingness. White noise that slides to the background.
“How do you do that?” She turned to him, enamoured.
“Music is often simpler than words.” Luka explained. It had been his outlet during his struggle with his own identity. When he played the tune of his own heart, it was always disjointed, off balance. Music translated the thoughts he couldn’t understand himself.
Luka observed her in curious admiration as she stepped towards his poster of Jagged Stone.
Are you trying to find common ground? Or are you simply curious?
She grasped one of the displayed picks.
Since she was surprised at the sensation of the music, she’s probably not a musician. Which indicates that she’s more likely to actually have interest in Jagged Stone. This could be a good leeway to actual human words.
“You like Jagged Stone’s music?” Her question confirmed his deduction.
“He’s my favourite singer.” Luka smiled. He might finally have someone to talk to who admires Jagged Stone’s music as much as he did!
Feeling more confident, he slid the guitar behind his back and stood to admire the poster alongside her.
“Mine too,” her evident excitement nearly came out as a laugh.
He shifted his attention towards the pick in her hand as her nervousness crescendoed. “You can have it if you like, I’ve got plenty.” He spoke honestly as the paraphernalia jetted between her hands.
“Oh- thanks!” Marinette bashfully grinned up at him.
Smart move, Captain. How had she managed to pick someone who would be the perfect amount of frantic to calm him down? Even more, how on earth did she pick someone that would be impressed by him? Pure luck or the Captain’s creepily accurate psychoanalytic capabilities? Both. Probably both.
“I think I should probably go and join the,” Luka rolled his eyes for comedic effect, “groove , as you said.”
The Captain was right. This was good for him. He felt more alive than he had in months.
“Did I really say that? Oh no.” She groaned in frustration.
A need for constant movement… Oh Ma-Ma-Marinette, you truly carry the spirit of a river. I can’t wait to see what lays below the surface. I doubt your waters are shallow… you seem too… complex…
Luka thoughtfully chose his parting words. “You’re a funny girl, Marinette.”
That way, she would not be insulted if he laughed, as well as it would displace some of her anxiety. She would know that Luka saw her quirks as admirable. As he left her behind him, he could feel her melody pick up. He couldn’t help but smirk in contentment as he walked to face the rest of the group.
Luka politely waved to the group as he stepped on deck. Countless conversations were overlapping each other, allowing him to slip to the stage without feeling cornered to initiate a conversation.
Rose snuck up behind him as he crouched to plug in his guitar. He didn’t need to look behind him to know the tiny arms around him were Rose.
“I’m so proud of you, Luka.” She whispered as she tightened her hold.
“Careful,” Luka whispered back as he connected the wire into his guitar, “if you hold on for too long, we’re going to make Juleka jealous.” He snickered at the eyeroll he knew flashed over Rose’s face.
Once they’d both stood up, Rose gently punched the edge of his chest.
“Ahh!” Luka pretended to lose balance as he clutched his shoulder.
“Oh my god, Luka.” Juleka groaned as Luka perpetuated his dramatic portrayal of being maimed by Rose’s brushing of his skin.
“Stop being such a wimp and tune your guitar!” Rose squeaked as she failed at painting a serious face. She couldn’t control her smile for longer than one syllable.
Rose had met Juleka near the time that Luka was pulled out of school. He used to try to hide whenever she visited, but Rose had far too big a heart to allow that to happen. Luka sat in his bedroom in shame as Juleka stood in front of the door, describing his decision to remain out of sight. Rose scoffed and nearly yelled, “But you’ve spoken so highly of him. Does he know that I am a lesbian that volunteers with the Association Nationale TRANSGENRE? He should stop being such an idiot and open the damn door!”
Juleka said that was the moment she knew she wanted to be with Rose. Since then, Rose has been family.
She fit in perfectly, seemingly quiet and submissive, but a firecracker when she fought for what she believed to be right. She forced the twins to look on the bright side and to see the best in themselves. Juleka and Luka were convinced Rose was Anarka’s favourite child.
His verge of thoughts cracked a smile across his face as he tightened his strings, tuning by ear. A rush of warmth spread through him as he felt crystal eyes fall upon him. He couldn’t understand her words, but he relished in her broken stammering.
“Let’s give them a show! Whenever you’re ready, Luka!” Anarka shouted from behind the DJ booth.
Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he ripped the cover off the speakers that rivalled the biggest venues. He stared in admiration at the beasts. Anarka had fought tooth and nail to acquire the loudest speakers available; she wanted the world to hear her kids’ talent.
Throwing his arm up in the air, Luka struck the pick against the strings, sending an earthquake of a boom. He felt powerful as the soles of his feet vibrated.
He chuckled at the stunned expressions of Juleka’s friends in front of him. No one cared to question Luka’s identity, all that mattered was the fact that their music defied the laws of physics.
Before they could play another note, siren’s roared as helicopters hovered over them.
Officer Roger used a megaphone to admonish Anarka for her decibel level.
Oh no, not today, Mom. Please not today. Luka clenched as Anarka grabbed at the microphone.
Anarka was an anarchist at heart and would go head to head with nearly any bureaucratic representative; but Anarka and Roger had a history.
Roger was always trying to please whoever had the deepest pockets. The principal at Juleka and Luka’s last school was one of them. He’d made a stink over the fact that Luka kept trying to enter the boy’s bathroom. For some reason, he believed that Anarka would come into their meeting and levelheadily explain to Luka that such actions were immoral. Boy, was he in for a surprise.
Anarka raised hell.
One of the nicest things she called him was an ignorant asshole. She wouldn’t admit it until they were back home on The Liberty , but perhaps breaking his name plaque over his desk was too far. She should have done it over her knee so that she could have controlled the debris more effectively.
When Officer Roger came to remove her from the premises, he was anything but tactful. He kept trying to get her to cede that she was being unreasonable. That it “wasn’t such a bad idea to get her daughter in line.” Since then they'd waged war against each other. She’d filed numerous complaints on him and encouraged anyone else who had been unfairly reprimanded by him to do the same.
Considering this history, Luka was extremely worried about his mother’s temper, and Roger’s thick skull recognizing him and outing him before he’d even had a chance to have a full public day as himself.
Luka’s jaw dropped as Marinette tapped Anarka, suggesting they could agree on lowering the volume. Obviously, she wasn’t aware of their history; but no matter what the case, it took courage to voice a counter opinion to the Captain’s. Luka agreed that their music didn’t need to be *that* loud, but agreeable was not a character trait Anarka had while facing Roger.
“It’s a matter of principle!” Anarka barked as she motioned towards the sign with the boat’s namesake. To anyone who knew, the layered meanings of the words were palpable.
Spitefully, Roger wrote a multitude of tickets, stoking Anarka’s flame.
“Don’t make me come back again today, Anarka, or it’s going to be a different situation.” Roger hovered his fingers over his cuffs.
Anarka stood in incensed silence, her eye sporadically twitching.
Please Mom. Just let this one go. Luka pleaded to himself as Roger finally turned to leave. Anarka was growling as she stomped to the helm.
Wanting to check on his mother, Luka left the line up of observers to follow Anarka. His heart and pace halted as Roger caught sight of him.
Out of his peripherals, Luka watched as Juleka straightened.
But Roger didn’t say anything.
To Luka’s surprise, he observed Luka with pain. A heavy gulp was visible against his Adam’s apple as he dropped his head in shame.
Has Anarka finally got to him? That looked like regret… I’ve never seen his face admit defeat before… but that expression was broken…
Luka was so stunned, he’d forgotten his trajectory until a deep purple bubbled along the surface of the boat. Horrified, Luka watched as the boat transformed to a sleek candy red.
Anarka spoke in a pirate drawl as she ordered them to raise the sail. She’d transfigured into a crimson steam-punk pirate.
“What’s going on?” Luka shouted in bewilderment.
Captain Hardrock shouted her plan to commandeer the music festival.
No… taking away others freedoms doesn’t grant ours. The battle isn’t against the other musicians.
“Mom, please! You can’t ruin the music festival!” Luka pleaded with Captain Hardrock.
Marinette rattled him again, shouting alongside him. “You can’t force people to listen to your music!”
Curiously, Marinette’s voice had given others the courage to stand their ground. More dissenters voiced against playing; they would not play under duress.
Captain Hardrock screamed against the mutiny, sending out chains to ensnare them. The deck of the boat dropped as they were hurled below.
Cannons shook the boat as the chains dug into Luka’s skin. His back was pressed against Marinette; it would have been quite the ice breaker if it weren’t for the communal silence wrought from fear that hung heavy throughout the room. Defeated, Luka stared down at his laces. It was ironic that earlier he’d wanted nothing more than to hide in his room, now all he wanted was to be able to live a normal day.
There was no warning rattle before the chains fell from around Luka’s chest.
How?
Luka spun to Marinette in astonishment.
“How did you do that?” He swore she must be a sorcerer. Picking locks was one thing, but picking a lock without any movement before the fall was unbelievable.
“Uh… I… With this!” Marinette held up the Jagged Stone guitar pick.
How in the hell did that pick even fit in the opening of the lock?
“You’re amazing! Real magician, Marinette!” Emphasis on the real.
Standing, he offered his hand to Marinette. She truly was an incredible person.
“You think so? Oh, it was nothing.” Marinette’s hand rested on Luka’s arm as she blushed.
Is she blushing from flattery? Or does she? Am I seriously making a girl blush? No way. No way!
Marinette’s dazzling blue eyes turned back to his. “Amazing, really?”
So amazing I never want you to look away again.
“Um, excuse me.” A female voice severed their moment. “But some of us are still chained up here.”
Right. It doesn’t exactly make a good impression if I start these friendships by ignoring everyone else.
He’d been so distracted by the unfamiliar sensation of genuine attraction, the tense fear throughout the room had faded from his mind.
Before Luka could ask Marinette how he could help to free everyone, a villainous version of his mother’s laughter started to lower down the stairs. Her boots were firm against the steps, further announcing her presence. She wasn’t checking on them to see if they were behaving, she was visiting them to showcase her domination.
“Marinette, she’s coming!” The same female voice warned.
“We’ll come back, I promise!” Marinette led the dash from their captivity.
Anarka had always been a bull to reason with, but this was beyond Luka’s comprehension. Clearly, there was magical villainy at play, but seeing his mother actively aim to harm them was scarring. Through every storm, the Captain always kept them safe. She was their fierce protector.
Without hesitation, Marinette spun the knob to Luka’s room. He was quite impressed with her strength, Juleka usually forced him to open the hefty doors, yet Marinette opened it as if she was slicing through warm butter.
Taking his guitar, he used it as a barricade against the door. Juleka said that everything was repaired after someone succumbed to evil powers; he prayed that it would hold true as he left his most prized possession to be destroyed.
The guitar twanged as the neck cracked against Captain Hardrock’s ramming.
Luka bolted towards the window and swung it open, a salty wind breezed across his face.
“Are we going to jump?” Marinette whispered, horrified at the possible ramifications. Even if they tried to climb out, one wrong step could be lethal. The Miraculous Ladybug’s could fix many things. Death was not one of them.
“No.” Luka swung out a drawer below the bed as he yanked Marinette’s arm. “We’re just going to make her think that you did.”
“Luka!” Marinette hissed as he kicked the drawer closed.
They didn’t have time to argue. Right now, all that mattered was keeping at least one person safe.
“Run, Marinette, Quick!” Luka screamed out the window.
His mother was usually exceedingly sharp, but Luka had an inclining that the power would strip her of more than her moral reasoning. Surely enough, Captain Hardrock commanded the chains to trap him once again without a second thought to his lie.
He was heaved against the wooden floor with a huff. Resting his head along the unforgiving surface, he listened as Captain Hardrock marched away. Shifting his weight side to side, he rolled himself back to a seated position.
“Don’t worry,” the female voice spoke again, “Ladybug always saves the day.”
Luka smirked towards her, unsure of how to respond.
“Luka, right?” She continued talking.
“Uh, yeah, hey.” Luka nodded his head towards her. “And you are?”
“I’m Alya, this shivering mess behind me is my boyfriend Nino.”
Luka snorted as Nino rebuffed her insult.
“Hey!” He unsuccessfully craned his neck to see Alya. “I am not shivering!”
“Oh come on, Nino. You’re shaking so hard you’re making your own musical number.” Alya teased, igniting chuckles around the room.
In protest, Nino started bringing a rhythm to his chains. Pausing and then jittering as Alya snapped her fingers along.
Holy shit, we just went from morose dungeon entrapment to a bluegrass band. I see why Juleka brought them around. Luka smirked as he joined in, stomping his feet while a battle took place above them.
Their eccentric song was cut short as the hatch door creaked open. Everyone froze, trying to determine who had stepped on the scene.
“Ladybug!” Alya exclaimed.
Ladybug shot her Yo-Yo against the chains, not only breaking through them, but disintegrating them into metallic confetti. In stupefied amazement, Luka watched her step directly towards him.
Alright, getting saved from a spandex helps soften the blow. Oh shit, what happened to Marinette?
“Ladybug, is Marinette okay?” His eyes darted in panic as he held on for her answer.
“She’s safe! She alerted me!” Ladybug assured him.
How did she get to you? She is absolutely incredible!
“That girl is unbelievably brave.” He projected his thoughts to the audible realm. Within twenty minutes she’d stood up to law enforcement, Anarka, and risked her life to contact Ladybug. No wonder people were drawn to her.
He’d lost himself in his reverie to the point that he nearly missed Ladybug’s ecstatic shout for a Lucky Charm . Though the spotted chain confused her, she didn’t let it waver her confidence. She promised them that she would free them as she darted out of the room.
“So… do you guys do this often?” Luka meagrely attempted conversation.
“Dude, you have no idea.” Nino grabbed at the back of his neck as chuckled dryly.
Muffled cries continued to rain from above.
“Seems stressful.” Luka tapped at his jeans. The only one who immediately caught on to his dry humour was Juleka, who slightly snorted.
Gravity seemed to shift out from under them as they were thrown against the walls of their captivity. A cacophony of cracking bones echoed through the hold.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Luka yelped as he grasped his shattered shoulder before being tossed again.
They’d barely landed back to the ground when they were suctioned against the floor.
Fuck. We’re flying up.
The anguish-inducing pressure was short lived as the boat crashed towards solid ground. Luka’s breaths whistled as he fought to control his diaphragm. He couldn’t remember the news discussing anything like this.
His breath hadn’t had a chance to stabilise as the boat tipped to the side, driving them all into the wall once more. Alya’s hand was clamped around Nino’s, their limbs both disjointed. Juleka appeared sickeningly tranquil as blood streamed down her face.
Seriously, how often does this happen to these guys? They are way too calm about being beaten within an inch of their life.
“Here it is.” Alya croaked as their surroundings turned to umber dust.
They all laid upon the ground as the flurry of disintegrated flakes of the boat draped along their backs.
“Almost.” Juleka mumbled, letting her brother know they were about to be mended.
Miraculous Ladybug!
Animated bugs flew through the air as Luka’s vision flashed white.
Juleka stood beside him as the sun was beating against his vision. Flabbergasted, he pawed at his perfectly intact shoulder.
“Told you.” Juleka muttered at Luka’s befuddled state.
“Seriously? How much does this happen to you guys?” Luka cried, breaking into laughter.
“Too often.” Alya shook her head in amusement at Luka’s childlike amazement, now nearly devoid of horror.
“Hey, at least you make money off of your torture.” Nino chided towards Alya.
“Well, if I’m gonna get my ass kicked, I might as well use it to promote my future career as a reporter!” Alya responded in a blasé tone.
“When did you get a chance to take footage?” Luka had no idea how to wrap his head around the events of the last half-hour.
Shrugging, Alya pulled out her phone. “Whenever my hands are free I try to take whatever I can. Here,” she tilted her screen towards Luka.
Luka inspected the still of himself gazing at Ladybug in wonderment. “Okay, that’s pretty cool. Can you send that to me?”
Chuckling, Alya nodded. “Here, put in your number. I understand why Juleka hid you from us.”
Luka’s heart pounded in his ears as his thumb froze over the fourth digit of his number.
“You steal the show.” Her eyes were warm against him as he blushed, punching in the last digits of his cell.
“Congrats, dude!” Nino slapped Luka’s arm as he passed him his phone next. “You made it through your first Akuma battle! I’m sure if you hang out with us you’ll get to see a lot more of these.”
Passing back Nino’s phone, Luka wryly chuckled. “Great, I can’t wait.”
Mylene’s phone was in his hand next.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell Juleka and Rose were smitten with joy as Luka completed his first step towards social integration.
In a state of elation, Luka hadn’t even considered the fact that neither his mother nor Marinette had returned to deck. The zip of Ladybug’s Yo-Yo snapped him back into focus. He immediately shifted to speak to his mom, but she gleefully shook her head and motioned for him to continue his socialisation.
Officer Roger once again stepped forward to the boat. This time, he held his hat in hand as he bowed his head.
“I went too far, Anarka.” Roger submitted.
Gasping, Anarka turned towards him. “Um- th- thank you. Perhaps I did too.”
It was Juleka’s turn to have her jaw drop. Anarka, admitting she was wrong? Unheard of.
“Can I - can I talk to you for a minute?” Roger motioned off the boat.
Trepidatiously, Anarka nodded. She instinctively turned her head towards Juleka and Luka, wanting to verify they were safe before stepping away.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Juleka asked, nearly inaudible.
“I don’t have the faintest idea. Neither of their faces have turned into a tomato yet, so that’s a positive.” Luka shrugged, still impressed that his destroyed shoulder was perfectly intact.
Once the adults were done with their discussion, they walked back to the boat together. Anarka leered over Roger’s shoulder as he measured the decibels on their instruments.
Luka stared into him with a panicked regard as he strummed his guitar.
“You’ve grown up to be quite the fine young man, Luka.” Roger nodded before stepping away.
Luka’s eyelashes were clashing against each other as he twitched in shock. Anarka gave him a small wink before Roger permitted them a slight decibel overage. The relationship between Anarka and Roger was clearly still tense as he walked away, but there was a level of respect that hadn’t existed before.
“Jesus. This has been one hell of a day.” Luka snickered as he straightened out his guitar. “Thanks for introducing me to your friends, Juleka.”
A grin snaked along Luka’s cheeks as he avoided Juleka’s ‘I told you so’ gaze. His eyes landed on the pale bluenette that had helped break him from his shell.
“It’s great to finally meet you man!” Nino exclaimed. “Just wait until you meet my best bud, Adrien! He’s an amazing dude!”
“ADRIEN?” Marinette gasped, her face shifting to red and her breath trapping in her throat.
“I look forward to it.” Luka replied flatly as he observed Marinette enter a blubbering state.
“You - ah - he’s - I love hi- I mean you will love him!” Marinette’s limbs flailed as she struggled through her proclamation.
Again, Marinette proved to be a river, constantly intangible; one cannot grasp a current.