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Marinette grimaced as the akuma threw her through a chimney. Alya wasn't far away, so she was sure this would end up on the Ladyblog tonight.
“Ladybug! Chat Noir! Can you not see how your continued futile resistance only hurts the people of Paris?” Hawkmoth spoke through the akuma, “Are you so short-sighted and cruel as to let these innocents come to harm only to spite me?”
Marinette stood, slowly, head spinning slightly from the impact. “You will never get our miraculous, Hawkmoth! You’re nothing more than a bully who forces others to do the dirty work for you!”
As she sat in Mme. Bustier's class, Marinette tried to ignore the throbbing of the bruises all along her back. Her Miraculous Ladybug worked for everyone but her, it seemed. And while it repaired the damage wrought by akuma attacks, she could never undo the toll beyond the direct. The trauma their battles left behind was never something she could cure.
If it had only ever been her who had to bear the scars of her adventures, Marinette could have lived with it. She was used to it. But Hawkmoth, knowingly or not, had latched onto her weakest point. She couldn’t bear to hurt others. Now, the negative impact her career as Ladybug has had on Paris is broadcast constantly.
Marinette remembered when the ad campaigns started. Just days after that fateful first akuma, her mistakes still scarring the streets of Paris. Billboards, buses and stops, the sides of buildings. Pretty much every commercialized surface, and quite a few non-commercial ones, all plastered with the same message proclaiming her and Chat Noir as enemies of the people.
And it didn’t take well, not at first. To the Parisians, Ladybug and Chat Noir were heroes who’d saved them from Stoneheart and Hawkmoth, whether or not they were technically unsanctioned extrajudicial vigilantes.
But, eventually, the tides of public opinion turned. Stoneheart returned, and while they were actually able to cleanse the akuma this time around, the people of Paris weren’t too happy with the clearly novice heroes. And the ads continued.
It started slow, but eventually became an onslaught. First, it was just anonymous posts online, plausibly ones made by Hawkmoth himself. Then, there started to be more than any one person could make. And then people started saying it aloud offline, away from the security provided by quasi-anonymity. Not to her face as Ladybug, of course, that took much longer.
From most people, it hurt, but it really didn’t hurt that much. But it especially stung when Alya started making the same statements. Alya, the superhero fan. Alya, her best friend who created the Ladyblog website on her first day, and used to cite her favorite comics so much. The very same Alya now openly attacked Ladybug in class and online, through her blog.
“Girl, are you okay, you’re barely paying attention to Bustier,” Alya said.
“I-I’m fine, Alya, just a long night last night. A bit too close to the akuma fight,” Marinette stammered. If only Alya knew, she would lose her mind.
“Ladybug and Chat Noir again,” Alya swore.
But of course, Alya could never know. That would never end well. Marinette wished sometimes she could tell someone, anyone about what she and Chat Noir went through on the daily.
“Alya,” she protested.
“Don’t Alya me, your eyes are dilated. You need to go to the nurse, at least!”
“Girls, is there anything you would like to share with the class,” Mme. Bustier asked.
“No-” Marinette began, before Alya slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Marinette’s not feeling too well, Mme. Bustier, I think I had better take her to the nurse’s office,” Alya interrupted.
Marinette forced herself to sit up straighter and look like she had been paying more attention as Mme. Bustier inspected her.
“Alya, go ahead and take Marinette to the nurse’s office. Marinette, you need to take better care of yourself.” Mme. Bustier said.
Outside the classroom, and in the relative security of the hall, Marinette hissed at Alya. “What was that for? I’m fine!”
“No, you’re not. Marinette I know you’re hiding something from me. I’m not sure what it is, although I have my suspicions. I’m not going to press, but if Ladybug and Chat Noir have something on you, you know you can count on me”
Marinette smiled weakly. “Sure, Alya.”
Marinette winced as debris flung across the square. This akuma was a fairly destructive one. In the end, it wouldn’t matter how quick she wrapped this fight up and repaired everything. There’d be a new ad campaign and at least one post on the Ladyblog by the morning.
Beside her, Chat Noir spat out blood, and maybe a tooth, although it was hard for her to tell.
“You okay there, kitty?” she asked.
“I’m doing fine, my Lady, ‘tis but a scratch. These akuma fights have certainly gotten harder of late, though.”
“Yeah, it’s become harder since the public turned against us. Still, we can never give up the fight.”
“Have you ever thought about trying to find, maybe, someone else? Someone we can rely on, who might help us?”
Ladybug dodged a projectile before answering. “I won’t tell you I haven’t wished we could. But who on earth would be willing to help us, even in secret?”
Marinette rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “Alya, what on earth did you want from me at seven in the morning on a Saturday?”
“I think I’ve finally done it, Marinette, I’ve cracked the truth of Ladybug,” Alya said, a manic gleam in her eye.
Everytime Alya came to her with one of those theories, Marinette’s heart rate spiked briefly. The first one Alya had ever come up with had pointed her straight at Marinette, but she’d quickly dismissed it as impossible and moved on.
“What is it this time, Alya,” Marinette sighed.
“Well, last time I told you I thought Ladybug had to be an alien, kinda like Majestia, since she’d been documented over the centuries, but I don’t quite trust that theory any more. Why would an alien stick around so long? What would motivate her? And besides, Ladybug was clearly a newcomer when she showed up on the Paris scene,” Alya said.
“Okay,” Marinette said, trying to let as much doubt as possible seep into her voice.
“So, I think this means that maybe it’s more of a Knightowl situation,” Alya said as if that meant anything at all.
“Alya I have no idea what that means. Common French please.”
“Right, right. Knightowl and Sparrow have been around since the 19th century, which is obviously far outside the lifespan of normal humans. However, neither Knightowl nor Sparrow have ever given any signs of powers, only ever use of the most bleeding edge technologies. Some have theorized they’re secret immortals, or tools of the American Department of Defence, but I disagree. I think they’re actually hereditary roles that have been passed down throughout the generations in secret.”
“And this relates to Ladybug, how?” Marinette asked, now genuinely somewhat lost.
“I think they might be the same deal! There’s a secret order of Ladybug users, passing it down throughout the ages, each generation training the next, for whatever their secret goals are,” Alya said, gesticulating wildly.
“What? Th-that doesn’t make any sense!” Marinette protested, groping blindly for any refutation she could find.
“There’s some holes I still need to fill. Why is Ladybug so inexperienced? How does Chat Noir fit in? Why do both of them refuse to give their miraculous to Hawkmoth, even though it would put an end to all this? There’s something more to this, and I refuse to let the truth remain buried!” Alya exclaimed.
Well. That was bound to be a problem later.
Marinette swung into the building as sneakily as possible. This close to the akuma attack, the building was almost certainly abandoned. Normally she wouldn’t risk it, but this was a particularly brutal akuma. She needed time to recover some from her injuries, to figure out what this lucky charm might mean. Her miraculous allowed her to survive being thrown through buildings, but it didn’t make her immune to the consequences.
Just as she slumped against the wall, taking some of the weight off her shaking legs, Marinette heard a door softly close.
Shit.
Tikki needed time to recharge before allowing her to transform back. Hopefully this was just someone wandering in, not someone who’d seen her enter as Ladybug. If they had, maybe she would have the time to disguise herself, somehow.
“Ladybug! I know you’re in here somewhere! Do the right thing, Ladybug! Surrender yourself and your miraculous!” Alya said.
There went her plan of trying to whip up a disguise and hope they didn’t recognize her. Alya would certainly recognize her, by her clothes if nothing else.
“Hurry Tikki, we can’t get caught. Chat needs us,” Marinette whispered.
“Aha! I can hear you in there Ladybug, you can’t get away now!”
Frantic, Marinette searched the room around her for exits, some way she could escape. The room was fairly bare, occupied only by an elderly table and shards of glass from the long broken windows. This building may have been abandoned for longer than she’d initially thought. Another casualty of Hawkmoth’s crusade.
Nothing materialized, no new ideas stuck out to her like a red stain on gray fabric. She was well and truly trapped. This meant she was fucked. Alya had to be live-streaming right now. If her identity got leaked, it would destroy her life, and her parents’ lives too. Okay. Damage control.
She could reveal just to Alya, if she agrees to shut off the livestream. It was risky, but she didn’t see a better path forward. Attempting to rush past Alya would run a high risk of her getting exposed, and escaping out the window was certain to injure her further. “Alya?” she called out, “I’ll reveal myself to you, but only if you stop the livestream. There are other people who would likely get hurt by this just coming out online. You can report my I.D. to the gendarmerie, if you want, but please spare my family the abuse.”
Alya was quiet for an uncomfortable stretch of time.
“Okay. The stream is down,” Alya said softly.
Marinette pulled out her phone, quickly opening the ladyblog page. The livestream was, in fact, down.
“Alright, I’m coming out.” Marinette said.
She pushed the door next to her open, wearily stumbling through the doorframe.
Hey, Alya,” she said, limping on one leg.
“M-marinette? Where’s Ladybug?” Alya asked. “She was in there with you, right?”
“I’m right here Alya, I’m Ladybug.” Marinette sat down, hard. “If you really hate me, if you really want to take my earrings, then I can’t stop you. I’m injured, I’m tired, and I’m detransformed. I don’t stand a chance."
Alya stood there with a horrified expression coating her face, as silent as the grave.
“Report me to the gendarmerie if you want. Just please, leave my family out of it.” Marinette didn't look at Alya. She was too tired to look further. Not when it would hurt.
Without saying another word, Alya sprinted out of the building.
Marinette laid onto her back. She hadn’t been expecting that reaction.
It had been a few days since Marinette had been forced to reveal her secret identity to Alya. And in that time, they had spoken perhaps two words to each other, at best. It kept clawing at Marinette’s nerves, what Alya could have done, what she must have done. Every morning, she expected Hawkmoth to show up outside the bakery, or on her windowsill. And yet it never happened. She didn’t think Alya was that kind of friend, precisely, but she had also heard Alya proclaim her hatred for Ladybug on practically the daily. The past few months had left her with two wildly different Alyas, and the one she had was not acting like either of them.
It was bizarre, to be so far out of touch from her best friend. They hadn’t known each other for that long, but Alya had quickly become her closest friend, and then later, simultaneously one of her staunchest enemies. They told each other everything, and yet, she didn’t tell her anything that mattered in the end.
“Marinette?” called her mom from in the bakery down below. “Were you still going to Alya’s tonight?”
“I’m a little tired right now, maman. It’s been a long day, and I haven’t slept very well in a while. I think I might just take a nap and head over later if I’m feeling up to it,” Marinette lied.
“Okay sweetie, I’ll be just downstairs if you need anything,” her mom said, concern soaking her words.
Alya and her were supposed to take Ella and Etta to the amusement park tomorrow after watching them for the night. That was never going to happen now. There was no way Alya would allow her near her sisters, not after everything.
Her phone dinged with the calendar event she had created so she didn’t forget or run late to watch the twins. She almost resented the earrings for all they had taken from her. At the same time, she never wanted to give them up. Akumas aside, it gave her the ability to help people on a scale she had never before imagined. Even if they would never so much as think about thanking her.
Marinette forced herself to sit up, pushing her covers off. Things weren’t going to get any better if she just laid there. She and Alya needed to talk, and if neither of them took the initiative, that was never going to happen.
“Tikki, spots on!”
Fortunately, she had a way to get over to Alya’s house pretty quickly.
Marinette detransformed in a convenient alleyway not far from Alya’s house. She could’ve just stayed as Ladybug for it, but she didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to Alya. Not being careful enough en route to the bakery had already caused enough Ladybug watchers to camp out nearby. That was definitely not a mistake she intended to repeat.
As she approached Alya’s house, Marinette felt a lead bowling ball settle in her stomach. Something felt wrong, but she couldn’t quite piece together what exactly it could be. Maybe it was the quiet. Alya’s house was never quiet, there was always some background noise, something going on. She knocked on the door.
There was a muffled giggle from the other side as the bolt was undone. And then, before she could blink, the door slammed open, and Marinette went down under a tide of red and purple.
Disoriented, Marinette sat up. She looked around, head still spinning lightly. Small red creatures wearing a spinner hat were out running across Paris.
“Marinette?” Alya asked.
“Alya? Did I hit my head? I think I’m seeing, uh, multiple.”
“I can’t speak to if you hit your head, but you aren’t seeing things. Get in and I’ll explain everything,” Alya said.
Marinette peeled herself off the pavement, standing shakily. She walked uneasily to the door, hanging off only one hinge now.
“What’s going on? What were those things?” Marinette looked at the remains of the Césaire home. Furniture was decimated, looking like it was chewed down to the frame. “What happened to your house?”
“Ella and Etta were both akumatized, somehow, and started causing mayhem all over the house. Every time they ate something, they split into two. As soon as they figured this out, they ate nearly everything in the house,” Alya explained.
“How’d they get akumatized?” Marinette asked.
“They were being unruly, excited about the trip tomorrow, and not happy about you not being here. They didn’t want to listen to just me, and when I sent them to their room, presto, red monster children.”
“Okay, we should talk, but I really need to stop your sisters from eating the entirety of Paris,” Marinette said, already running for the door. “Tikki, spots on!”
“Wait, Marinette!” Alya shouted fruitlessly.
Ella and Etta, or as they called themselves, the Sapotis, were a particularly troublesome akuma. They had quickly multiplied, swarming across the city and devouring everything in sight.
If only they could make a massive illusion, something to bait them in, for easy collection. Out of other ideas, she reached for the sky.
“Lucky charm!”
She caught a teapot. A very familiar teapot, too.
“Kitty, I know what to do, I’ll be back with reinforcements!” Marinette said.
“What? Really? Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Chat Noir asked.
“I think we can trust her,” Marinette said.
Ladybug landed with a thud, the Fox Miraculous in her hand. “Alya Césaire, here is the Miraculous of the Fox, which grants the power of illusion. You will use it for the greater good. Once the job is done you will return the Miraculous to me.”
“Are you sure about this?” Alya asked.
“No one I’d rather ask,” Marinette said with a bitter-sweet smile.