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Literary: Jinxed





February 14, 2016
Dearest Ladybug,

It’s been a few weeks since the last time Hawk Moth evilized someone. Maybe he’s taking a break or scheming something big. Nevertheless, I’m starting to miss you.

Not having bad guys around means that Paris doesn’t need us to protect it. We don’t need to transform into our hero costumes. I should be happy about that, but it also means we won’t be able to see each other. Bummer.

I know you won’t be able to read this. I won’t send this to you anyway. This is just me, talking to myself because I know sending this letter would mean nothing.

Why would it?

You’re already in love with someone else, like you’ve said. So what’s the point of hearing my heartbroken banter?

You’ve rejected me multiple times but I still choose to keep bugging you about my feelings. Get it? “Bugging” ‘cause you’re Ladybug.

Anyway, a close friend thinks that’s just my way of recovering from all the rejection. Thank you for not pushing me away all this time. I must’ve been annoying.

I’m glad to be friends with you. I value our friendship more than anything else, bugaboo.

But I can’t deny it—it still really hurts.

You have set your pretty bluebell eyes on a completely different guy, and I could tell you’re head over heels in love with him. No matter how many flowers I give you, it’s as if you’ll never notice me. No matter how many pick-up lines I throw at you, you’ll never hear me out.

You’re so close yet so far away.

However, I didn’t lie when I told you before that my favorite moments are when I’m with you. I didn’t lie when I said I’d drop everything else just to spend time with you. Despite all your rejections, your company is worthwhile.

You’re more than the love of my life—you’re my partner in crime. Even if the only ones left are us two, we’d overcome it. No amount of feelings could compare to our bond as a team. Like I said back then, it’s always been just the two of us. You and me against the world, M’lady!

I miss fighting evil with you. I can’t wait for the next. Our battle isn’t over yet.

See you soon, Ladybug.

Sincerely,

Cat Noir

P.S.: I still wonder, though—who could this boy, who’s more worthy of your love, be?


The wrinkles on the paper grew as the man held the letter tighter, laughing. Boxes of old magazines, pictures, and gadgets lay like leaves on the wood floor, scattered. Somewhere within the mess was a young man—blond, blue eyes, and full of life. His chuckling bounced on the wall.

The cause of all the mess was one thing and one thing only—his modeling portfolio. An old acquaintance asked him to model their 2024 fall clothing line. It had been a while since he left the glamorous world of fashion—the last time was in high school. Blond hair fell to his face as he smiled.

During his high school days, the young man was a black spandex clad, cat-themed hero named Cat Noir. He watched the streets of Paris from the roofs of its citizens, keeping it safe with his other half, Ladybug. Despite not knowing their true identities, they trusted each other with their lives. Together, they searched for unfortunate Parisians who were cursed to be evil by their archnemesis, Hawk Moth. Those years of his life were the busiest, and the most fun. Even though he had his plate full—at that point he needed a tray with how many responsibilities he had—he wouldn’t mind coming back to those days.

He remembered feeling like he constantly needed a blood transfer, but he would live through it all again just to see the sun bouncing off the dark locks of the person who stole his heart. “What a simp,” he reminisced.

Two hands tapped his head. Time to focus. His attention returned to the packed box of clear, unlabeled folders. The carton was in pain, bulging due to how many shoots he did in the past. But the young man thought that adding one more photo compilation wouldn’t hurt.

In his search, he didn’t expect to find a red, heart-shaped piece of paper he wrote back then. Upon picking it up, he was transported back into his childhood bedroom. It was in disarray, similar to the one he was in currently. He remembered the feeling of the cold, marble floor against his back, a stiff science book under his head.

He had two science assignments due that night, but he could only think of one thing.

Ladybug.

It wasn’t the first time she rejected him. But it felt like it. He tried to breathe, but he could only try. He was a man sinking underwater.

And so he commenced pouring out his soul onto a red, heart-shaped piece of paper. Each stroke of ink contained unbelievable amounts of teenage angst. He shuddered, rereading what he penned that night. It wasn’t a scarlet letter, filled with hateful teenage angst, oh no. It was much worse.

That red, heart-shaped letter was a rose-colored one, filled with the messages of a teenage boy’s heart. They were messages the young man wanted to send, but he knew that no one would receive them.

He gagged, in disgust of what he wrote.

“Buddha, God, Fate, bless you!” he said, thanking every single metaphysical being he knew. If they had granted his past wish—for her to read his letter—he would have died of humiliation.

While he was connecting with the gods, the door opened. Behind it was a face he adored—a girl fresh out of college, with fresh bread, and who’s messages he’s missed for the past hour. Though she looked as strong as a baguette, her presence was enough to knock him out of his date with the gods.

Oh no. Did he forget a date?

The Frenchman held his breath. Fortunately, she seemed more curious about the sea of papers than angry about his memory. Unfortunately, he couldn’t convince himself of that.

“I didn’t know today was special!”

Some strands of her hair fell onto her face as she giggled. “Today’s not special, you doofus.” The young woman approached him like a queen on a chessboard, stepping through squares not occupied by paper. “I just brought you some brioche.”

His eyes glittered like the lips of girls from the early 2000s. “Passion fruit?” The young man bolted upwards, stealing a bite of the soft snack begging to be eaten.

“This wouldn’t be the first time you were clueless about something,” she said teasingly.

The man cried out as if he was stabbed in the chest. Slowly, he staggered onto the floor, pretending to be hurt. Breadflakes fell on the floor like snowflakes. “You pain me, but I had a hunch that it was you in that costume, y’know!”

“Woe me, for I am unable to believe your words, Sir Adrien!” She crumbles to the floor like bread in soup.

“Oh milady, the whitest of whites are not enough to describe how pure my intentions are. My words are as false as the sun being a star, as the world being round in shape!” He paddles through the solid floor, inching his way closer to her with his elbows.

“My dear ladybug, please bee-lieve me!”

He buzzed, like an old Nokia phone upon reaching her. The two burst into laughter having finished their skit.

He turned to his side, admiring her face as she chuckled. Their shenanigans had certainly caused her hair to be in disarray. He couldn’t care less, though. He still viewed her through the same rose-colored lenses as he did years ago.

They lay on the cold floor as their laughter subsided. The young woman turned to her side, noticing a red, heart-shaped paper her companion was reading earlier. “What’s this?”

“Dear lord!” he exclaimed, burying himself in photos and stinky magazines as she read through it. In his burrow, he cursed the gods he thanked earlier for allowing her to read that stupid, cursed letter. Now, he could only hope that she didn’t find it too ridiculous.

Please, I hope she doesn’t laugh, please.

She laughed.


February 14, 2016
Dear Adrien,

It’s been a while since someone caused trouble around Paris. I’m starting to think the villain went on a vacation, honestly. Not that I’m complaining. It’s been quite peaceful nowadays, and I’m even more punctual at school—though I can’t help but miss you.

We’ve been seeing each other more often at school since it really has been quiet around town, but we haven’t really spent more time together. As much as I’d want to, I couldn’t take you away from her. You’re family friends, after all. You have a lot of plans together. We have… none.

Like all my other letters, I know you won’t be able to read this one. This will just go into my secret pile of love letters I’ll never be brave enough to send.

Why would I?

You already have someone else who loves you, so what’s the point of hearing that I do, too?

I’ve tried telling you how I feel multiple times, but I failed each one. Every time I gather enough courage to let my feelings flow out like a waterfall, something happens and it’s as if someone’s intentionally blocking the waterway. After that, it’s back to step 1.

It’s been that way ever since I started liking you. Now, I do nothing but stumble over my words and do something silly whenever I try talking to you. Thank you for still being friends with me even though I must seem like this clumsy, dumb girl.

Ah… friends. I’m glad to be friends with you, at the very least.

But I can’t deny it—I want us to be more than that.

You have enveloped yourself in the presence of a completely different girl, and I could tell you’re happier with her, especially recently. No matter how many pastries I give you, it’s as if you’ll never notice my feelings. No matter how many times you show me that you care, I know you’ll always just think of me as a friend.

You’re so close yet so far away.

However, the moments I spend with you aren’t all in vain. With these, I get to know you better and support you in the things you do. I’m still really glad that I’m able to spend time with you, even if it’s for a short while. I’m happy that I could show you my support even if it’s just as a friend.

You’re the love of my life, but you’re also my friend. Even if my feelings are one-sided, being able to stand by you soothes the pain a little. I’ll always have your back, because that’s what friends are for, right?

I miss spending time with you and the others. I hope we all get ice cream together again.

See you soon, Adrien.

Sincerely,

Marinette

P.S.: I still wonder, though—how come you haven’t noticed my feelings yet?




Inspired by Miraculous Ladybug (Thomas Astruc, 2015)

Literary: Promise




A man of contracts must have an impressive memory if he is to remember others’ promises.

The people who signed them, whether the sun was present when each contract was signed, how the stars in the sky lined up when each contract ended—every detail he must be able to recall. Having said that, not every recollection is a pleasant one.

It is said that during the years when rulers contended against one another, the man’s aspect was that of boundless slaughter. Because of this, people and other beings alike would fear him for his power. So much so that even stone would shake before his very feet, a reminder of his daunting and despiteful nature. One couldn’t possibly ascribe gentleness to him.

Low Tide

It was the morning after Taurus’ ascension.

He remembers the faint scent of saltwater as it blew through the wetlands and through the glaze lilies. He was tired, lost. As he walked past the marsh, he seemingly noticed a woman standing by the riverbed.

The woman was surrounded with sparkling dust around her, each particle reflecting the light back towards him. The wind blew past her billowing sleeves. She acted solemn, yet joyful. Her gentle voice asked the man what it was that caused the earth around them to shake.

The man, who had only known violence and cruelty as an answer, responded in a confused manner.

The woman whom he had just met did not fear him, but felt more concerned. At that moment, the earth, which had always shook before the very sole of his feet, stopped. All the rumbling he had only ever heard before had gone to rest. For the first time, he could hear the birds flutter their wings as they passed him. He could hear the water as it splashed through the rocks.

For the first time, he had found tranquility.

The woman had introduced herself as an engineer of sorts, a mender of broken things. A funny coincidence, she remarked, as it seemed the man standing before him looked like one who needed mending as well. The man rolled his amber eyes and replied he didn’t need it, and was better off alone. She insisted and asked the man if he would like to accompany her to her people's settlement down south.

The man, already curious about this woman's personality, convinced himself to follow her and know more about her. Either way, he had no other choice since he had no place to go.

High Tide

It was already the morning of Bootes when they had arrived at the fields where the settlement resided. The dewy grass swept through the plains the pair walked on.

The settlement was so huge you could see it from hills away. The towering stone buildings could easily be mistaken as mountains themselves. As they approached the settlement, the man’s face turned as pale as a ghost when he realized the woman referred to her people as normalfolk. The man had always despised the normalfolk—he thought they were simple-minded and stubborn beings. He had always seen them as beneath him.

As they entered the encampment, they had received mixed looks. Looks of fear and despisement for the man, and love and adoration for his companion. People approached the woman in joy. The woman responded back just the same.

That night, as the moon rose from the horizon, they feasted amongst the great halls of one of the huge stone houses. The woman sat at the center of the room celebrating with the people in benevolence, while the man sat at the far corner of it. He had spent most of his time alone, so to him, mixing in with the normalfolk would’ve felt like mixing oil and water.

The woman was kind towards her people. The man watched as she approached every person in the hall. He remarked that the way the woman smiled to them was genuine. The warmth in which she enveloped her people felt like a fireplace on a cold winter night. He himself was not participating in the celebration of her return, and yet he could feel it even from that distance.

The woman took notice of how lone amber eyes followed her, and so she chose to approach the man in the corner. The man quickly turned away, acting still as rock, like nothing happened. The man then asked why a woman like her was compassionate and empathized with the normalfolk. They were hard beings, never needing the help or guidance of a person like her.

“If you’ve spent just as much time as I have with them,” her gentle voice uttered as the cold wind entered the hall windows, “you could tell that these people could become so much more than you ascribe them to be.”

Those were words he understood. However, it would take him a long time to figure out that knowing what they meant did not mean he understood them. The woman could tell from his expression exactly that. Smiling, she reached for the jewelled trinket on her waist and gave it to him. He didn’t quite understand why, but the sly grin of his companion told him that it would be important in the future.

They had spent the next lifetime becoming friends, forging bonds and contracts between the land and its people. But even time isn’t so kind. Like stone, it erodes even those with the purest intentions.

Soon enough, the man who had finally found a companion, found himself alone all over again amongst the fields of glaze lilies where they had first met.

Low Tide

It was the night of the Scorpion’s masquerade, and all of the local royals were present.

The sea, the most tranquil of the royals, was seen oddly along the coastline. It quickly danced, moving from the sand and back into the dark ocean. The wind joined this quickstep, making its way past the guests with a sharp, icy draft. It was a glorious night.

The attendees were happy—save for one.

The man, unlike those around him, wore a frown on his face.

The light atmosphere and all the merrymaking were like the salt in the sea. They taunted the gashes on his chest. Every single thing that was in sight was a cruel reminder of the promise he had yet to achieve.

He thought he had already understood people. He glimpsed into the hearts of those he met and, although not perfectly, was able to make sense out of them. He was able to wrap his head around the silliest of disputes normalfolk had. He knew now that men were not flat earth. They could not survive the force he previously subjected them to. They were more like cliffs—capable of enduring the weight of towers, but too much would make them crumble.

He knew all these. He knew—and yet he didn’t.

He didn’t know, because his people retreated from him like the waters of Yaoguang Shoal. He spoke to them as gently as he could. Yet to some, his words were still as rough as sand. The normalfolk still regarded him as this stone-cold fellow, and his stories were poison, bringing much suffering to those who stood by his side.

The man sitting on the beach looked towards the sky. He could only look up now, because the person whom he made the promise to, and who was always beside him, was gone.

He smiled sadly, remembering the soft locks of hair on his shoulder. His friend was as strong as dust. Yet, he could not help but think that she was the strongest out of all that he met.

High Tide

It was already the night of the Pegasus when he arrived.

The masquerade was still on, although now it was a winter ball. The sea, now dancing with the wind, sashayed back and forth the shoreline. The wind still danced its quickstep, its gritty coolness darting around the cliffs and trees. Together, they looked like the queen and king of the white mountains.

This waltz had been happening for a while now, and the man was used to it. He returned to the same spot, paying no mind to how the biting water enveloped his ankles. His mind was here to think, and think he did.

The gentry thought that when he achieved his goal, or made strides towards it, everything would become perfect. From up a hill, flocks of people would talk to him about the simplest of things. The wind would be as gentle as the words exchanged, and their hearts as warm as the sun. Above them, the sky would be as clear as untouched waters. He would finally be with everyone.

Yet here he was—at night, the wind as piercing as the claws of golden crabs. No light or warmth could be seen nearby, save for a single lantern a child had given him earlier from the lantern festival. He was alone.

And yet, he didn’t mind.

He laughed at himself. Truly it was foolish to think the best parts of life would be perfect.

Admittedly, there were still a few things the man did not understand. But for now, what he knew was enough. It was enough, because he finally had people by his side. They were with him out of their own will, and he no longer caused them pain. It wasn’t perfect, but now he didn’t need it to be.

He was finally fulfilling his promise.

As he stared off into the distance, he recalled the moment when he made that vow to his friend. The fabric she adorned herself with flapped in the breeze like the mighty clouds that flew over the region. The last smile she wore before returning to dust was sincere.

“Our journey together has ended, it seems.” She motioned to the trinket on the man’s belt. She claimed it held her wisdom, and unlocking it would allow him to reach his goal—to understand his people. “Forget about it,” were her last words, clearing him of any responsibilities.

But he would not forget. Someday—he didn’t know when, and he didn’t know how long it will take—he will fulfill his promise.



Based on the lore of Genshin Impact (miHoYo Co., Ltd., 2020)
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