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“And that, little kittens, is how it’s done.” Chat Noir preened in front of Alya’s phone camera, lapping up the attention like it was a saucerful of lactose-free milk.
Alya panned the camera, looking for Ladybug. She was always the trickier of the two to interview. It wasn’t that she’d hide, exactly – sometimes she was very willing to be interviewed – but she never seemed to get the kick out of it that Chat Noir did. Alya had been fortunately on the spot with this latest Akuma battle, right here on school grounds, and she wasn’t about to let the moment go to waste. She framed her shot looking across the indoor basketball court, before getting into pro-journalist mode. Ladybug’s earrings blinked, a sure sign she’d dash off soon.
“Ladybug, do you have any words for the Ladyblog before you disappear?”
Her posture tensed, and Alya knew she was planning her exit route. Alya pointed to the skylight above the stairs.
“Um… uh… stay in school, kids,” said Ladybug, throwing a thumbs-up to the camera; and with that, she was gone.
“Uh…good advice, I guess,” said Alya. “Chat Noir, what about…” But the cat had disappeared too.
***
Alya reviewed the tape over break after science class.
“Stay in school, kids!”
Zz-zz-zip.
“Stay in school, kids!”
Zz-zz-zip.
“Stay in school, kids!”
Alya sighed. There was really nothing special about today’s recordings. Of course, it was a privileged place to have got to, that she could so casually dismiss her video interview with Ladybug herself, but let’s face it, there were a dozen and more better interviews Alya had taken. Ones where Ladybug seemed less rushed, less tense. It was odd. Ladybug always seemed a little tense when her miraculous was nearing its exhaustion point, but not usually so much as today.
“Hey Alya.” Marinette plumped down beside her on the bench. “What are you looking at?”
“Just the interview with Ladybug I got earlier today. You missed an amazing battle, girl, where even were you?”
“Oh. Um. The bathroom. I had to um… go there and… um… I was… uh.”
“Girl, I don’t need details.”
“Right, of course.” Marinette was one of the sweetest people that Alya knew, but it had to be admitted: sometime she was decidedly … odd. “So I hear everyone got turned into bouncy balls?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. The upper class had that new substitute sports teacher. Apparently it was a bad day to be learning basketball.”
“Let me guess – everything got broken?”
“Oh boy. Good thing Ladybug can fix it all with a wave of her magic yoyo. Can you imagine the bill if the school had to… Oh. Girl. No, come on. You’re going as red as Ladybug herself right now.”
It was no use. Alya sighed, again. Adrien had just come out of the sports hall, so of course Marinette melted. No use holding conversation right now. Alya returned to the video, leaving her friend to sputter and blush.
It had been a good battle. Maybe one of the best. The action footage would be popular, even if it wasn’t professionally filmed. Alya made a few on-the-fly edits and uploaded it to the Ladyblog. She’d probably have a few hundred clicks by the end of the day.
“And that, little kittens, is how it’s done!”
“Um… uh… stay in school, kids!”
It really was a bad interview. The clip ended and she looked up. There was Adrien, and Marinette still being super awkward. Nino had joined them, and Chloe, asking Adrien in her irritatingly self-centred voice whether it was very hard to learn fencing because she was sure that she, Chloe, would be a natural. And if not, thought Alya, she’ll just whine at Daddy until he pays someone to tell her she is. Better his problem than mine.
But Adrien, being Adrien, was supremely patient. Alya wasn’t surprised Marinette had a crush on him, he really was a kind person. He was demonstrating the basics now, Chloe brandishing his épee in what could only be described as a manner dangerous to herself and others.
“And then you lunge,” Adrien demonstrated as he spoke. “And that, more or less, is how it’s done.”
Alya was surprised. She must have left that clip on repeat. She glanced down at her phone, sure it should be off but yet expecting it to be on. The dark screen reflected her own face like a mirror. It was off. “Stay in school, kids,” she whispered to herself.
***