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“Please,” Alya repeated. “Felipe, was it? Think of the publicity my article could bring to your competition!”
“Sorry,” said the man on the phone. “If you can’t swing a sword, I can’t allow you to be present at my competition. With the likes of Adrien Agreste and Kagami Tsurugi competing, I’m being paid top dollar to keep the cameras far away. They distract the fencers.”
“Of course,” said Alya miserably. “Thank you for your time.” Once Felipe had hung up, she slumped over her desk, groaning. Every major fencing competition in the city had turned her down. Most wouldn’t even release a list of their competitors. It seemed that her latest theory was dead in the water.
Alya turned to look at the cork board she kept above her bed. This month, it contained all the evidence she’d gathered for her new theory: that Chat Noir was a competitive fencer. Alya studied the shots she’d taken of him fighting various sword-using akumas. In every battle, his stance and footwork showed signs of professional training.
She was so close to Chat Noir’s identity. She could feel it in her bones. With her string of failures, though, Alya had never felt further away.
Wait.
Alya sat bolt upright. An idea had just hit her like a thunderbolt. Ideas of dubious quality often struck her like this at desperate times. Alya was confident, however, that this idea was a stroke of pure genius.
Before she had time to talk herself out of it, she called Marinette. “Hey, girl. Do you have Kagami’s number? I need to ask for a favor…”
Alya liked to say that a good interviewer could read an interviewee’s thoughts in their microexpressions. Kagami Tsurugi was a closed book, however.
“Your feet are wrong,” said Kagami. “Do it the way I showed you.”
Alya, wobbling slightly, attempted to copy Kagami’s footwork. She didn’t fall over, but that was the best that could be said of her efforts. It was hard to focus beneath the full force of Kagami’s gaze.
In an attempt to calm her nerves, Alya decided to treat their impromptu fencing lesson like an interview. “Do you have any idea who it could be? Some blond, pun-loving star of the Parisian fencing circuit—”
“Watch your shoulders.” Kagami took hold of Alya’s upper arm. “Your foil must move as an extension of your entire arm. Neglect your shoulders, and you put your elbow and wrist in danger of injury.”
Alya rolled her shoulders, but she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “How do I—”
“Here,” said Kagami. With her hands on Alya’s shoulders, she moved her into the correct position. “Try the footwork again.”
“Oh!” Alya found that her balance was greatly improved. “That’s a lot better. Thanks.”
With a shock, she realized that her cheeks had grown hot. Alya thanked her lucky stars for the melanin in her skin. With any luck, it would hide her blush from Kagami. As soon as fencing practice was over, Alya called Marinette.
“SOS,” she whispered into the phone, looking over her shoulder to check that Kagami wasn’t listening. Kagami continued to pack up her fencing gear, seeming oblivious to Alya’s burning gaze.
“SOS?” Marinette sounded confused. “Did the lesson go that badly? I know Kagami’s an acquired taste, but she’s really sweet underneath. If you just give her another chance, I’m sure—”
“The lesson was fine,” Alya hissed, still watching Kagami and the way her muscles moved under her shirt as she unhooked the practice dummy from its base. “I have… a different problem. Meet at my house in thirty, and I’ll explain everything.”
“The cork board seems excessive,” said Marinette. She reached for one of the newspaper clippings, but Alya batted her hand away.
“This isn’t about Chat Noir’s identity anymore,” she said. Putting it into words was frightening. Words were real. Alya cared more about Kagami than she did about the scoop of the century, and it terrified her.
Marinette’s face softened. “You’re serious about her, aren’t you?”
Alya swallowed. “I want to be. I’ve never met anyone like Kagami before. I want to learn everything about her.”
Marinette laughed. “Maybe don’t phrase it that way when you ask her on a first date.”
“Of course not,” said Alya, briefly scandalized. “I do know how to flirt with women.”
“Sure you do.” Marinette waited. “And what do you need me for?”
“Everything else!” Alya threw herself onto the bed. “What do I wear? Where do I take her? What does she like, other than fencing and making me blush? Does she even like girls?”
Marinette’s phone buzzed. “The last one’s a definite yes,” she said. “Kagami just texted me out of the blue to ask what you like other than journalism.”
Alya looked around her photo-strewn bedroom. She wanted to protest that she had a large, diverse pool of hobbies, but they had all taken a backseat to the Ladyblog lately. Her eyes landed on a stack of old Majestia comics.
“Superheroes! Tell her I like comics.”
“Perfect,” said Marinette, typing furiously. “And Kagami likes manga.”
Alya’s heart did a little flip. So Kagami was a hot nerd. Her kryptonite.
“Didn’t you schedule another fencing lesson tomorrow?” Marinette asked.
“Yeah,” Alya managed. Her heart beat staccato fast, and she couldn’t think straight. Kagami was a nerd. Kagami liked her back. She would see Kagami tomorrow. “Fuck! What do I wear?”
Kagami was waiting for Alya in the empty gymnasium. Was it Alya’s imagination, or was she wearing an especially nice blouse? Alya swallowed hard. She and Marinette had worked out a perfect script, but Alya’s tongue was failing her now, when she needed it the most.
Kagami studied her. “I don’t know you,” she said at last. “We are relative strangers.”
Alya battled her tongue into submission. “That’s true,” she said in a strangled voice. Was this a rejection? Had she and Marinette misread the signs?
“Yes.” Kagami fidgeted with the hilt of her training sword. When she spoke again, her voice was firm. “I consider myself a good judge of character. Your footwork is shameful and your posture is sloppy, but you are one of the most intriguing people I’ve ever met.” She fidgeted again. “I procured two tickets to a comics festival this weekend. Would you be interested in attending it with me?”
At last, Kagami looked into Alya’s eyes.
“I am terrible at making friends, and worse at romance. But I would like to know you.”
Alya took a step forward. “I’d like that very much,” she said, and fireworks went off in her heart.