#asuefsl

At the same time, though, he needed to see what Nathaniel was doing on his desk. It might have been homework, but he wasn’t about to give the redhead the benefit of the doubt just yet. If Nathaniel could only move his head just the tiniest bit…

Luckily for Chat, the redhead held the book up in front of him just then, and if Chat found just the right angle, he could clearly see what was on the page...until he leaned so far out over the rooftop that he teetered off. His baton extended without command, keeping him from crashing onto the ground, but then it pivoted him onto the opposite plane. Which just so happened to mean that Chat slammed against the wall, nearly crashing into the window he was looking through, and balanced himself onto a tiny extension of protruding brick to prevent himself from falling off.

Then he glanced to the side and cursed inwardly. There was no way Nathaniel would have missed that, and, sure enough, the redhead peeked his head out a moment later. For a few seconds, the two teens simply stared at each other, blinking, before Nathaniel broke the silence.

“Chat?! What are you doing here?”

Chat did some very quick thinking.

“I was out for an evening stroll!” he replied innocently. “The air is very nice and fresh in this part of the city!”

“O...kay? You okay there?” Nathaniel asked, gesturing to Chat’s struggle maintaining balance.

“Of course! Excellent balance exercise,” Chat assured him, crossing his arms and swooping one leg over the other in a casual pose. However, the movement caused his feet to give way, and he let out a shriek, hastily regaining his place.

“That doesn’t look very safe...” the redhead said skeptically. “Maybe you should come inside...”

Chat froze. Nathaniel was literally inviting him into his own house. It was far too convenient to be plausible.

“Well, if you wouldn’t mind..” Chat relented, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Nathaniel shrugged.

“It’s better than leaving you there hanging,” he said, then winced. “No pun intended.”

Chat smirked.

“I, for one, think your puns are pawsitively on point,” he told the artist.

“Please don’t,” Nathaniel said, a pained expression on his face.

Chat ignored him and hopped in through the window. He landed lightly on the floor and straightened to take a look around.

***

Apparently he had been wrong about expecting an artsy theme. Nathaniel didn’t have a single original work up.

His room was, however, covered from top to bottom with fan merchandise and fan art. Posters of anime serials and excerpts from manga, as well as promotional products and prints, occupied every square inch of wall and door. There were even pillows and plushies of Ghibli movie characters on the bed.

Chat stared long and hard, taking in the whole room. It was breathtaking.

Of course, what kind of devoted otaku would Adrien be if he didn’t have a shrine to Japanese media? However, his own consisted more of cleverly hidden goods and the unnoticeable poster here and there, but his father would have never let him get away with this.

“...Chat?” Nathaniel’s voice was hesitant, but it jerked the superhero back to the moment nonetheless.

“Yes?” Chat turned around to see Nathaniel looking back at him awkwardly. “Oh, sorry, I was admiring your room decor.”

“Oh, you like anime?”

Chat gaped at him.

“I don’t like anime, I love anime,” he corrected quietly.

“Oh,” Nathaniel understood. “Me too.”

Chat looked around the room for another few minutes before his eye fell upon a card of Japanese calligraphy that reminded him of…

“What time is it?” he asked suddenly.

Nathaniel jumped, subtly closing the book on the desk behind him.

“It’s, uh, 7, why?”

“I have to go,” Chat said. “Thanks for showing me the bedroom, gotta split, bye!”

“I...didn’t?” Nathaniel asked dubiously, but Chat was already gone. The redhead shrugged and went back to work.

***

Chat may have been interrupted because of Chinese lessons yesterday, but he vowed to get to the bottom of the Nathaniel enigma as soon as he could.

Unfortunately, there was another akuma. One that Nathaniel wasn’t involved in. Chat wasn’t sure if that was good for him or an inconvenience at this point.

By the time Ladybug had purified the akuma, it was too late to stalk civilians with a half-justifiable excuse.

Adrien was growing impatient, but he waited.

***

The next evening, Chat strode into Nathaniel’s room by himself, scaring the daylights out of the inhabitant artist, before getting a stern telling off about walking into people’s houses uninvited.

“What do you want, anyway?” Nathaniel asked, still regaining his composure.

Chat shrugged.

“Nothing-oh! Look, look- there!” He eagerly pointed to a random spot outside the window.

Nathaniel turned and Chat tried to get a quick glance of his sketchbook before Nath caught on.

“Ooh, wow, you’re right,” Nathaniel said interestedly, leaning out the window.

Chat turned too, surprised. It had been intended as a joke…

“What is it?” he asked, quickly putting the sketchbook back on the desk. He walked over to join the redhead at the window.

“Oh, nevermind, it’s gone now,” Nathaniel said disappointedly, turning back.

“What was it, though?” Chat asked.

Nathaniel shrugged, sliding onto his chair. He opened the book and leaned over it, bangs falling to cover whatever was on the page. Chat looked at him, confused. Oh, whatever. There were more pressing concerns at the moment. Like what was in The Sketchbook of Secrets.

“Sooo, Nathaniel...” Chat started in an attempt to distract him. “Whatcha doin’....?”

Nathaniel didn’t respond, busy shading something in. Chat groaned and occupied himself with the wonderful decoration.

“Hey, uh, why isn’t any of your art up here?” Chat asked, genuinely curious. “I thought you’d put your paintings and stuff on full display...”

“It’s not really that important...”

“Well, you should,” Chat recommended. “Your stuff is good enough that you should put it up. I mean...it’s not like I’ve ever seen it or anything...”

“I’m really not that good,” Nathaniel mumbled, flushing slightly.

Chat suddenly had a brilliant idea.

“Maybe if you could show me your sketchbook I might have a better idea of your skill...” the superhero suggested, extended his hand in expectation and leaning over to see.

Nathaniel frowned, closing the object of Chat’s burning curiosity.

“I don’t really like showing my stuff to other people...” he said, glancing at Chat slightly suspiciously. “Why do you want to see it, anyway?”

“Er...” Chat laughed casually, searching desperately for an excuse. “No reason...”

Nathaniel was scrutinizing him the same way he had scrutinized his alter ego. Chat needed a distraction before the artist caught onto something.

“You look like a strawberry,” he said suddenly.

“What?”

“I said you look like a strawberry,” Chat repeated, eternally thankful that he had semi-successfully diverted from the pressing topic. “Even the shape of your face, when you’re blushing like that, you look just like a strawberry.”

“I’m not blushing...” Nathaniel said, flaming cheeks giving him away.

“See, told you you look like a strawberry,” Chat confirmed, low-key smug that he had fully succeeded in avoiding a disaster. “I’ll just see myself out, now,” he waved.

“Well, just so you know,” Nathaniel retorted, sticking his head out the window to yell at the leaving visitor. “There was nothing outside. I was bluffing you, only you’re clearly too dense to notice!” Then he snapped the blinds down.

Chat shrugged.

“Still a strawberry,” he said to himself triumphantly.

But his small victory dissipated by the time he was back in his room.

“It’s been almost a week and I still don’t know what he knows or is hiding,” he sighed, collapsing onto his bed.

“You’re probably not welcome at his house again, either,” Plagg added dryly. “But who cares? I want my camembert!”

Adrien glared.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to come up with a strategy? Go bother someone else for your camembert!”

“Given that I’m supposed to be a secret, who am I supposed to bother?”

“Ughh,” Adrien groaned, pushing himself back up. “Fine, I’ll get you your cursed camembert...”

He granted the kwami one wheel, securely locking the rest in a vault that Plagg supposedly could not access. He was fairly sure, anyway, since Plagg had to hide his eyes when Adrien was opening it, and he hadn’t managed to phase through once despite the temptation. The blond made sure to spray himself down and the area around him with the perfume he’d bought a few days ago.

“Y’know,” Plagg mentioned thoughtfully, nibbling on his cheese. “That redhead kid could be a strawberry, but you look a lot like a banana.”

Adrien frowned, looking at him.

“...is that supposed to be implying something…?” he asked suspiciously.

“Of course not,” Plagg dismissed. “Get your mind out of the gutter. But, now that I think about it, your hair does look like it’s made up of a whole bunch of little bananas.”

Adrien rolled his eyes.

“How does anyone’s hair look like it’s made of fruit?”

Plagg shrugged.

“Could just be the visuals,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” the kwami quickly waved off. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Uh, huh..” Adrien nodded warily, narrowing his eyes still.

“What’re you staring at me for, Bananadrien? Go watch your anime and let me finish my camembert in peace!”

Adrien’s eyes widened in shocked panic.

“I forgot! The new episode of The Seven Deadly Sins season 2 was supposed to come out! Oh, I’ve been so caught up with Nath, it completely slipped my mind!”

Adrien didn’t waste a second in turning on his TV and finding the latest episode to stream.

Plagg rolled his eyes from his place on the foosball table.

Would Adrien have voluntarily sacrificed every one of his evenings for the next indefinite period of time to satisfy the curiosity that was now verging on the brink of paranoia? Curiosity did kill the cat, after all. The answer was yes.

Would that have been completely creepy and definitely set his objective on edge? Perhaps. Okay, probably.

But Adrien could not do that because he was not only a part-time superhero, vigilante, and amateur private eye (the term amateur is used very loosely here), he was also a teenage student suffering from sleep-deprivation and overwork.

That day was the first time Adrien had fallen asleep in class. Sounds skeptical, but it was true. Adrien used to be legendarily adept at paying attention, which was kind of necessary, because if someone with average perceptiveness took a certain amount of concentration to understand something, then Adrien...well, you can infer from there.

***

The author apologizes in advance for subjecting Adrien to the status of the epitome of density. Because his obliviousness will only be more exaggeratedly magnified from here on out.

***

Anyways, that was when he realized that no one, not even the teachers, cared if you were awake or asleep in class, so long as someone that vaguely resembled you was sitting in your seat and they were quiet. Adrien later reasoned that he ought to have noticed earlier and that this was probably a daily routine for Nathaniel.

However, unlike Nathaniel and anyone else who was experienced with sleeping in class, Adrien was not equipped with a subconscious body clock that recommended him to wake up conveniently before the classroom emptied.

Nino had actually sat beside the redhead last year, so he knew better than to wake a sleeping person. Only, in Adrien’s case, this was not very much appreciated.

Adrien showed up to science class seven minutes late.

Mme Mendeleiev was actually more annoyed about him being late than she was about Ivan dozing off a few seats behind him. He hastily apologized and slipped into the empty seat, glaring at Nino, who merely shrugged.

It was during science class that Adrien came to another unfortunate discovery that made him like his schedule even less: the project was due in two days and he hadn’t done a thing. Juleka didn’t seem irritated, only mildly annoyed, really, but his procrastinating and putting it off for the last week hadn’t done either of them any favors. The goth girl suggested her own home to work at, since Adrien didn’t really feel like bringing project partners over to his place, what with his father around.

It looked like he wasn’t going to able to pay a certain red-haired artist a visit this evening.

***

The project didn’t go half-bad. Juleka knew her stuff pretty well, and Adrien forced himself to devote his entire concentration on something other than Nathaniel or Luka for once, which resulted in the project being completed in a single evening - thank goodness.

Luka wasn’t a problem, either. He popped in once to inform them that dinner was ready, keep to his own room, mostly, although Marinette was there at the beginning. She had to leave soon, though, because she and Nath hadn’t finished the project either. Adrien did a very good job of distracting himself and keeping himself occupied with his work. He was reserved but polite, keeping his distance from his partner’s brother, but not so curt as to seem suspicious.

By the time they were done, it was too late to do anything other than go home, although Adrien did make a deliberate detour through the redhead’s neighborhood, if only to make sure he wasn’t up to something questionable at this late hour (Adrien purposefully remained oblivious to the hypocrisy).

Unfortunately for him, Nathaniel was awake. In fact, not only was he awake at this unearthly hour of 9PM, he was also accompanied by none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng. They both looked exhausted, and seemed to be enthusiastically working on their project. Chat didn’t mean to peep, but from his convenient position and its view, as well as his considerable logic and reasoning skills, he assumed it was art-themed. Excellent observation skills indeed, Adrien thought to himself, frowning as he tried to discern whether their comfortable interaction spelled friendly classmate camaraderie or something else. Which would suggest that not only was Nathaniel really a very sneaky person, Marinette was cheating.

Preposterous ideas indeed, but Adrien wasn’t crossing any possibilities off until he was absolutely certain with total conviction that they were indeed out of the question.

And now, as Chat peered still through the window, he could recognize the affectionate, slightly dreamy expression on Nathaniel’s face, despite being too far away to be able to see clearly through the glass pane. And Marinette was...Chat was close enough to see her more clearly, now, yes, Marinette had the audacity to be nodding off against the bedframe of the bed in the bedroom of a male classmate. A male classmate who had been confirmed to have previously harbored affections for said girl. Oh, the scandal!

But then Nathaniel froze as if his sixth sense had been piqued (there were actually more than six senses - Adrien had done research on this - but we shall call it a sixth sense because to call it his Spidey sense would be inaccurate in this case, even though it is the closest applicable term), and turned around to glance outside. Chat immediately went into fight-or-flight mode, electing it safer to throw himself to his own death on the other side of the building, than to have to produce a justifiable explanation why he was here at this time. Heaven forbid Nathaniel grow more suspicious than Adrien suspected he already was.

The irony of the whole situation was poetic, really, but Adrien was going to deny that for now. Obliviousness did have its benefits, and a large supply of excuses was one of them.

Chat sped home at Mach 12, not pausing to think or breathe until he had landed on the floor of his own bedroom and de-transformed as he collapsed on the sofa out of exhaustion. His neck was thrown back against the top of the sofa, and he rolled his head back the left to look at Plagg, who was looking at him with an expression of mixed disapproval, exasperation, and irritation.

“Adrien freaking Perfection Agreste!!!” was all the black god could say out of sheer frustration.

“Yes, Plagg?” Adrien asked in mock politeness.

Plagg looked like he was ready to explode, blow a fuse, go into a coma, do literally anything to save himself from this absurd and unconventional torture.

“Are you alright, Plagg?” the blond tried again, patronizing. Plagg managed a glare.

“Would you like some cheese, then?” he asked one final time, feeling rather sympathetic and forcing himself to get up and grant his kwami some camembert out of pity for the poor sprite’s sanity.

Plagg snatched it from him, taking a nibble out of a corner for lack of words to describe the situation. Adrien watched him with mild amusement, tired all the same. He changed into a set of pyjamas and decided to dedicate tonight to sleep instead of stalking or anime. He didn’t want to be late to class tomorrow again, either, but on top of that, his brain needed a break from the overstimulation it was being subjected to as of late. The same could be said for Plagg, who floated over after taking an age to finish his camembert.

“In all my millennia...” was the last thing the kwami said, shaking his head as he flew close enough but left considerable distance between himself and Adrien.