Sequel to IRONY

A little bit...

Thanks to those people who reviewed chapter 4.

*offers mushroom-flavored pie.*

This chapter is 13 pages long :D Hoozah!

After the flashback chapter, we'll move on with the story.

Here it goes ...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Will you please come out of there?"

She heard a small tap on her bedroom door. It was already Alya's seventh or so visit to her flat this week. They'd been trying to get her to come out, not that it really mattered.

Marinette still wouldn't answer.

There was still so much to think about, so much to plan. She had to prepare herself as much as she could for the worst to come.

Her eyes darted to the pile of newspapers sprawled messily on her bed. There was a moving picture of a good-looking man with brown hair and a sneer on his face as the cameras flashed around him, the bold words indicating the events that happened during the past few weeks.

Damian Wayne, Back From the Dead.

"Rose, do something!" She heard Alya say in desperation.

Marinette went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, its coldness making her wince. She stared at her red, tear-swollen eyes and heaved a sigh.

She had thought that she had finally been rid of him when her doctor had found him in her Hospital room that night. She had been relieved and so sure he would spend the rest of his stupid life in jail.

How could she have been so wrong?

Damian Wayne Pleads not Guilty.

It wasn't fair, how he always got his way. She grudgingly admitted that he was too cunning and clever for his own good. It made her wonder if they even stood a chance against him.

They had gravely underestimated him, focusing only on the fact that he had the Luteus stone in his possession. They didn't even considered what he could do without it.

There was also a nagging thought inside her head, telling her that maybe the Stone was only a distraction, to distract them from what he could really do. Besides, it's no wonder Hawkmoth so readily chose him as his heir.

Damian Wayne, Innocent, Released From Prison.

She remembered how the Couffaine Mansion burned to a crisp, how the people ran wild while the fire engulfed them whole, but they were nothing but faceless strangers to her, a blur in her memory.

They were like missing puzzle pieces.

Yet for some reason, she was sure that Damian had been at her engagement party. Marinette knew he had done it on purpose. He had never intended to warn them about the fire, he had just come to watch the Couffaines burn to death.

And she still recalled his disturbingly happy expression as he told everyone how the Couffaines had died. Not even one of them had noticed that his voice held no remorse, no sympathy.

She hadn't known there was a punishment for betraying the bond, she hadn't known if Damian had been alive, and she certainly hadn't known that the bond would take innocent lives.

She hated not knowing.

She should've done something, but she hadn't. She should've researched about the bond rather than just trying hard to forget all about it.