A/N: Made it to the Epilogue! Thank you so much if you're reading this, I'm glad to have brought you an entire multi-chapter story. It's my first one, and I was deliberately writing and editing quickly so I'm sure there's mistakes and rough patches – thank you for sticking through it! Hopefully this uploads as an update so that you can see it – a lot of the chapters seemed to just kind of disappear. The story would show as "last update 22 hours ago" when I'd added a new chapter twice since then!
Also, I've added a cover pic, but I lay no claim to the image. It comes from Chez de Rach's notes about St Nicholas and the children's song/story that gave rise to this fic. Go read them! (They're in French).
Also also: in my region we call it soft drink. You might know it better as fizzy drink, pop or soda or something else. Sweet carbonated flavoured drink. I thought that was the most likely thing for a Moth to prefer to recharge with.
A tall man stood, looking out a silvered window. Behind him on the table, a small cup of soft drink was disappearing rapidly in slurps.
"Thank you, Nooroo", he said.
Nooroo didn't answer straight away. He was exhausted. Even with a full recharge between, powering up a second akuma was hard. And he knew his master preferred silence. On both their parts. The drama, as that girl had called it (and oh the look Nooroo'd felt on Hawkmoth's face when she said it, even knowing it was true!), the drama stayed outside this room. Always.
But... a thank you was out of the ordinary. It deserved a response.
He flew over and hovered above Hawkmoth's shoulder, looking out at the city. One long finger came up, and began to stroke the kwami. Nooroo settled into Hawkmoth's neck. "You're welcome", he said.
A plane lifted off from the airport in the far distance and they watched its lights disappear.
Nooroo sighed. "You are not the first Moth to have chosen the wrong person to grant magic to". Not even the first Moth to do so deliberately and repeatedly, but he wasn't going to volunteer that information now. This Hawkmoth had an acute sense of style, and would hate to be considered unoriginal. It might cause him to make more reckless decisions. And his discernment was surprisingly good – he'd been quite successful at picking amongst all the petty injustices people held in their hearts to find the ones that were dramatic enough without bringing the city's dark underbelly to the fore. Up until now, that is.
"This time was... not exactly a barrel of laughs", Hawkmoth admitted.
"Will you reconsider your plan now?" Nooroo asked.
They returned to their usual silence.