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Of all the ways in which her identity had been at risk, Marinette had never expected this. Yes, she was best friends with the Ladyblogger – which meant she was able to see first-hand the sheer determination that drove Alya to figure out the identities of Paris’s two main superheroes. But… as she sat in the classroom, listening to Alya rant about how Marinette was definitely Chat Noir, and she was certain of it, Marinette couldn’t help but wonder what in the hell had caused her to come to that conclusion.
She’d come in like any other day (although she’d been early; her first mistake. There had been an akuma attack at half past five, and by the time it was over, she decided she may as well just head straight to school.) Alya wasn’t there yet – so Marinette sent her a quick text, explaining that she would wait in the library, because it would’ve been awkward to sit alone in the classroom for the half hour until school actually started. Alya didn’t respond – but a minute later, she showed up, grabbed Marinette’s arm, and pulled her to the sparsely-occupied classroom.
There, Marinette thought, was where it all went wrong. Because right there, Alya looked around for a second, leant in, and whispered, “I know you’re Chat Noir.”
Twenty minutes later and Marinette had done everything she could to refute the claims (which were a little too close to the truth to be comfortable), but Alya was stubborn. She stuck to her gut – and right now, her gut was telling her that Marinette was a superhero of Paris – and not the right one.
“Marinette!” Alya whispered again, crossing her arms. “Stop denying it! I know you’re Chat Noir!”
Alya had gone over all the evidence (which was actually pretty good evidence – too bad it wasn’t the truth) twice now with Marinette, and she couldn’t refute any of the claims without revealing herself as Ladybug. So, she was just stuck with responding, “No, I’m not!” To Alya, every time.
The evidence, as silly as its conclusion was, was a bright red arrow pointing to a sign that read, ‘MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG IS LADYBUG.’ Except Alya had missed some part of the memo, including the bright red arrow, and had crafted her own sign, right in front of the other sign. But without very good damage control, Marinette was very worried that Alya’s sign would fall away, and reveal the truthful sign behind it, in all its glory.
That metaphor got a little confusing. Forget signs.
“Alya,” Marinette’s voice took on a tone of what she hoped sounded like reason, “how could I be Chat Noir? I’m the clumsiest person in France! I couldn’t fight, and travel, with a baton – I’d probably knock myself out with it, or something.”
Alya raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Do you want me to go over my points again?”
“No!” Marinette spluttered. “Because they’re ridiculous! I am not Chat Noir!”
The classroom door opened – and an influx of students joined them, including Adrien, who made a beeline for the two girls. “Hey,” he said, “Nino texted to say he was running late, so I just came in. Can I sit?” He asked.
Alya looked to Marinette at the exact same second Marinette looked to Alya. “Uhm,” Adrien continued. “I could always go and talk to somebody else…”
Alya broke eye contact first. “No, blondie. Sit.” She gestured to Adrien’s usual seat. “There’s an issue Marinette and I have been disagreeing on. How good are you at keeping secrets?”
“Amazing,” Adrien answered, eyes sparking with intrigue. He crossed his fingers in the air. “Scout’s honour.”
“Adrien, you never went to scouts,” Marinette mumbled. He chuckled softly.
“It furthers my point! Anyway, what’s the secret?” He leant in from his seat, somehow seeming like a child. Internally, Marinette groaned. He was so cute – and she was about to be so embarrassed.
“Marinette here,” Alya begun, “is Chat Noir.”
Adrien pulled back, eyebrows drawing together. “What?” He asked, lips pulling into a frown as he looked to her in confusion, and something else. “But-“
“I’m not!” Marinette said quickly, holding her hands out as if they’d stop him from assuming the worst. “Alya just thinks I am. Which is stupid.”
“It’s not stupid!” Alya said. “Ok. Adrien is going to listen to my evidence, and then he’s going to tell me whether or not he thinks you’re Chat Noir.”
Marinette groaned, burying her head in her arms.
“Ok,” said Alya. “So, firstly; we know that the Miraculous can change the holder’s physical appearance, right? So, my first theory is that Ladybug and Chat Noir decided to change everything about themselves – including their gender – as superheroes, so that they don’t get caught. I mean, what better way to hide yourself!”
This part was sort of interesting – Marinette made a mental note to ask whether if she thought hard enough about it, Tikki would be able to give her a more masculine form in the suit.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t prove anything,” Adrien said.
“Nu-uh, stick with me here.” Alya said. “My second point; remember the akuma Reflekdoll? Well, in that, Marinette had to take off any rings – because she was modelling, with you. So, I think when the akuma hit, she was so panicked about getting her Miraculous back on that she forgot to envision herself as a dude – and then had to call herself Chat Noire, because she was… her. And Chat Noire is the spitting image of Marinette – minus the hair, of course.”
Adrien nodded, smirking slightly. “Or Ladybug just got the Chat Miraculous, maybe? Ladybug looks the same as Chat Noire, sort of.”
“Yeah – but there’s more,” Alya said. “This is the part that I’m convinced about. Ok, so the fact is that Ladybug constantly goes on Marinette’s balcony after an akuma fight – from anywhere between five minutes and an hour after one. So, I think that Ladybug and Chat Noir secretly know each other’s identities, and Ladybug goes to Marinette’s room so they can talk about the akuma attack, and plan how to take down Hawkmoth. And, whilst Ladybug isn’t very subtle with her visits, Chat Noir is; he only comes to Marinette’s balcony under the cover of night, because Marinette doesn’t want to be seen coming home.”
“Alya, I’ve told you, they said they don’t know each other’s identities,” Marinette said, finally lifting her head. Alya looked triumphant. Adrien had a spark in his eyes… one that looked a lot like familiar mischief.
“They have to say they don’t know each other’s identities to the public!” Alya said. “Or Hawkmoth would work on capturing one of them, and torturing the other’s name out of them, or something sadistic like that. But come on; they’re partners. With that chemistry, you really think they keep their identities from each other?”
Marinette frowned. She felt bad about keeping their identities a secret – but Tikki said it was a must.
“So…” Alya turned to Adrien. “Marinette is 100% Chat Noir. Right?”
They both turned to the blonde, who looked as if he had seen the light. He turned his gaze to Marinette suddenly, scrutinising her for a few seconds. “If Marinette is Chat Noir,” he began, intensity of his gaze lessening slightly, “then I’m Ladybug.”
Alya scoffed. “Really, Adrien? That is stupid.”
“No, I’m serious!” He said. “I’m Ladybug.”
Marinette sat up. “But that’s impossible!” She said. “You can’t be Ladybug…” because I’m Ladybug, she wanted to say,
He smirked, an eyebrow raising playfully. “Just like you can’t be Chat Noir?”
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“Are you just egging her on?” Marinette asked. “One person thinking I’m Chat Noir is bad enough.” She turned to Alya. “I’m not Chat Noir, and Adrien is not Ladybug.” She sighed. “If I was that naturally flirty, you’d know about it by now.”
“There is that…” Alya sighed slightly. “But I’m sure about the rest! You’re Chat Noir!”
Adrien chuckled. “Come on. Just admit it, purrincess.”
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Marinette turned to Adrien, eyes wide with desperation for him to stop. “Are you trying to torture me or something?” She asked.
“Sorry. I meant well… My Lady.”
Marinette blanched. My… Lady?
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Holy shit.
“I knew it!” Alya said. “You’re crimson, Marinette – and you’re Chat Noir! Your body language gives you away!”
Adrien’s smirk. Adrien calling her purr-incess. Adrien calling her My Lady. Adrien, Adrien, Adrien.
Adrien Agreste was Chat Noir – and he knew everything.
The boy himself was watching, amused, as her mind worked itself into overdrive. “Well then, chaton,” he said, using her nickname as he outstretched his hand to her, “do you want to get out of here? Talk a little, maybe? Civilian to civilian, I mean.”
She sucked in a breath, and with it, all the bravery she needed, before taking his hand. “Of course,” she stood, smiling. “Bugaboo.”
Adrien blushed, and… gods, it was beautiful. They began making their way out of the classroom.
“Bye, Alya!” Adrien called as they reached the door. Alya could only wave as the two exited the classroom, hand in hand, a picture of absolute confusion pasted across her features.
Marinette giggled, as the door shut behind them. “Now, kitty… we have a lot to talk about.”
Two weeks later was Heroes Day – the four-year anniversary since Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up and defeated Stoneheart. It was a general tradition in Paris to have a parade-of-sorts, with floats of past famous akumas (Guitar Villain was always a fan favourite) and then at the back, every hero that had ever worked alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir.
In those past two weeks, Marinette had spent all her time making two costumes – a Chat Noir one for herself, and a Ladybug one for her new boyfriend (Adrien Agreste was her boyfriend! Fourteen-year-old her would pass out – and seventeen-year-old her was still dizzy every time she considered the information.) On the morning of Heroes Day, he’d shown up bright and early, to get ready – and although they’d gotten a little… distracted, at first, they were both ready in record time, and headed downstairs.
(Their costumes didn’t have masks – they felt they didn’t need them. They had their own kwamis to do the trick if they ever wanted one.)
Alya and Nino had been waiting in the bakery for about five minutes, dressed respectively in red and black (with a bit of orange and green) and snacking on the free treats the Dupain-Chengs had offered, when Marinette stumbled down the stairs, followed by Adrien, both in hysterics about something. They would both laugh, try to shush each other, and then laugh more.
From the other side of the bakery, Alya frowned. “How did I ever think she was Chat Noir?” Alya asked her own boyfriend. “She can barely hold herself up on a day-to-day basis. And whilst black is nice on her, it doesn’t fit the same way it does on Chat Noir.”
Nino shrugged. “In her defence, you did think Chloe was Ladybug once.”
Alya watched as Marinette straightened up, taking Adrien’s cheeks into her hands and silencing their giggles with a kiss. “Well – I did singlehandedly get that ship to sail,” she said, “so it wasn’t a complete loss. But I still wonder… why do Ladybug and Chat Noir visit Marinette’s balcony so much?”
The next time Alya was Rena Rouge, she stopped by Marinette’s balcony – and the endless macarons told her everything she needed to know.