Chapter Text
It’s been days since the meeting between the faction leaders and their respective second-in-commands, and Claude feels like he’s going insane from knowing nothing.
Groaning, he drops his head to his desk and stares at his phone, willing a phone call into existence.
“Are you still moping?” came the ever familiar and annoying voice of one Allegra Coltrane-Harper, booming in the silence of his room straight from his computer’s speakers. Claude wrinkles his nose, very much pouting at the tone of his childhood friend’s voice. “What’s so interesting about Fé’s meeting with Marinette? You’re acting like it’s some sorta secret rendezvous.”
Allegra was always the mature and composed one of their group, with the best insight on why grownups did what they did. It was why Félix preferred having her insight whenever they worked out theoretical scenarios and the best way to navigate it. Or rather, figuring out the best response to a given situation in order to profit from it. Everyone always assumed that maybe they were siblings with different skin tones purely because of their elegance and blonde hair and the many similarities.
“Everything. Everything about it is interesting,” Claude immediately answered, offended that she wasn’t even remotely interested to begin with. “Will they, won’t they? I wanna skip this slow burn and find out the juicy details! Especially because he knows about everything that was talked about earlier that day!” Claude dramatically sighed, looking up to his ceiling and wishing for divine intervention. Maybe he should ask a hero? They were powered by tiny gods, right? Assuming that the old Ladyblog interview is accurate. “You guys should’ve seen him. Literally an hour before he was adamant on having no reason for staying in France, and then he showed up at the meeting and kept eyeing Marinette with some kinda approval—”
“—which is normal,” calmly interjected the voice of his best friend, Allan Montgomery. “He’s the one who wanted Marinette to be a faction leader along with him and Chloé. You know better than anyone that he even orchestrated it to happen with minimal issues for all parties. Félix considers her to be a well-rounded business partner, on top of that.”
Allan, calm and understanding Allan, was also an enabler half the time. Some days he entertained Claude’s so-called delusions, and other days he was being rational, as Allegra would often claim.
Today was not a supportive Allan day, apparently. Oh, the betrayal!
“And he didn’t even tell me that he was transferring to Dupont!” Claude sat up, throwing his arms up in the air for further emphasis as he met the deadpan (Allegra) and amused (Allan) stares of his two close friends. One of the screens was still an empty image of a bedroom. “I’m his bestie! And he didn’t tell me!”
“A fact that’s unsurprising, as it’s easier to handle your reaction to surprises whether it be good or bad,” Allegra flatly responded, flicking her braid over her shoulder. “Fé never tells you stuff until the last minute because you’re insufferable about it if he ever decides to change his mind. You act like it’s the end of the world if he goes back on something,” her purple eyes look at him briefly with a pointed look. “Which isn’t wrong.”
Okay, rude, but that’s not his problem at this very second.
Claude narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, “Did he tell you?”
“No, he did not,” Allegra flatly shot back.
“Okay, well, whatever. You know, that’s not even the worst of it!” Claude huffed, moving on and insisting with wide blue eyes. “Félix isn’t keeping me informed when it’s a faction thing!”
“That… is weird,” his girlfriend’s angelic voice piped up as she finally appeared back on the previously empty screen. His eyes immediately darted towards his girlfriend’s webcam where the lovely Bridgette Canh primly sat with a worried look in her brown eyes — she wore her headphones, so she probably heard everything. “If it involves the faction, Félix would tell Claude a day after thinking it over. Always, without fail, Claude is his go-to confidante.”
“Brie…” Claude sniffed, touched at his girlfriend’s defense as he placed a hand over his heart. “At least you understand my point of view the most.”
“Maybe it isn’t faction-related,” Allan suggested, rolling her eyes at his theatrics as Bridgette gives him a reassuring smile. “Didn’t he like Marinette? He probably used the factions as an excuse to catch up with her.”
“No. Even if he wanted the excuse to talk to her, Félix still would’ve talked to me,” Claude shook his head. “The thing is, Marinette wanted me to put her in contact with Félix for a while now, so I’m pretty sure it’s faction-related.”
“Would he still tell you if she asked him to keep their discussion a secret?” Bridgette asked, thinking it over.
Claude deflated at that, slumping over his desk once again as he mulled over the thought.
Félix probably would. With others, no, but he valued Marinette as a business partner, much more than Chloé at the very least. Whether he liked her or not, if it was in his best interests, then it was only natural for them to shake on it and remain silent.
“Maybe it’s a mixture of both?” Allan suggested. “Félix is an overthinker, so maybe he just needs time to think it over, like what to talk about, and what to keep to himself.”
“Al has a point, honey,” Bridgette smiled, and Claude is very much ignoring the fact that Allegra’s making a disgusted face as he stares at his loving girlfriend with a pout. “I’m sure Félix will—”
She abruptly stops herself when a noise signals that a new caller joins them, a new image popping up on the computer screen. Claude sees familiar blonde hair paired with a normally grumpy face, dressed in a semi-casual business suit as always, the only person of the Quantic Kids who was missing from their daily calls.
Except Félix wasn’t frowning, grumpy, annoyed, or anything, really. He wasn’t smiling, nor was he amused. At most, he seemed to be… contemplating something.
“Uh,” Bridgette opened her mouth and promptly closed it, not expecting him to appear so soon after name dropping him. “Hey, Félix.”
“Félix!” Claude yelped, startled to see him on the screen when he’s so used to getting simple, non-FaceTime phone calls. He scrambles to sit up straighter in his seat, staring at the screen as if he couldn’t believe it. “You’re here!”
Speak of the devil and they shall respond — or whatever the saying goes. English sayings are so weird.
“I’ve had a busy weekend,” Félix simply states, raising a brow with eyes twinkling with amusement. He maintained a calm and collected smile, but Claude knew it! Something happened and he knows that it’s driving Claude insane! The twitch of his smile trying not to widen was a huge indication that he made a successful deal. “Most of which involved the family business and the whole moving process, as you are all already aware of.”
Okay. Maybe it was unrelated to what Claude was thinking.
The Graham de Vanily thing, they already knew. Félix’s mother was the one in charge now that his father had passed, but she wasted no effort in ensuring that Félix would learn how to handle everything himself one day should the unexpected happen to her. Moving, however, wasn’t a known thing until after Claude cried to them about how Félix ran off to be with the Miracle Princess after the latest inter-faction meeting, so Félix correctly assumed that they would all be informed by this point.
“As you may all be aware of, my mother likes to play a trick every once in a while to keep things… unpredictable and interesting. She decided that I ought to… de-stress by decorating our new home in Paris, and so she left it all up to me.”
Everyone knew that Félix hated last minute planning. It was the exact reason why he found Marinette admirable for always being capable of thinking on her feet and planning ahead even if it was the most convoluted scenarios. Félix had a bad habit of thinking of plans as either short-term or long-term back during their old faction days, meanwhile, Marinette planned for contingencies and backups, creating more and more plans that could easily factor in the present situation.
“Do you need any design ideas?” Bridgette asked, curious. “My mother has an associate involved with interior design work that I could recommend.”
“That’s quite alright, I managed to find someone on short notice,” Félix stated. “You all know her.”
Claude instantly thought of Marinette.
“Rose Lavillant.”
“What?” Claude blurted out, blinking at his screen.
“Oh, Rose is lovely at interior designing!” Bridgette easily agreed, the only glimpse of surprise was the slight widening of her eyes and a furrow of her brows before it was easily smoothed away. “I think it’s a pity that she has no plans on pursuing it as a career, but her perfumes are a wonderful trade off. Claude bought me one for Valentines last year. The bottles she stores it in are also quite cute and reusable. It’s a rather successful business, really.”
“Is that so? I may have to ask about her selection, then. It might make a nice gift for my mother’s birthday,” Félix noted, seeming to make a note of it on his phone.
“All of Rose’s customers often buy her perfumes for their lovers,” Allegra calmly stated. “Perhaps you should reconsider and opt to buy your mother her favourite flowers in the form of crystals from her mother? Madame Lavillant has that crystal floral business, after all.”
“Those crystal flowers do look beautiful,” Bridgette cheerfully chirped, her eyes creasing in delighted interest. “Besides, if you ordered a perfume from Rose, people will most likely assume that you have a lover, too! It would be terrible if Marinette considered you off-limits as a potential boyfriend if Rose were to inform her of it!”
“Yes, you’re quite right about—” Félix froze.
He fell silent.
Allan watched with wide eyes, his gaze going back and forth between him and Bridgette as he took a sip of his drink, acting as if he was watching the most riveting back and forth game of tennis. Allegra couldn’t hold back a snort as she leaned back in her chair with crossed arms, incredibly amused. Finally, Félix admitted to being interested in Marinette, a feat that took years to achieve!
Claude could kiss Bridgette for her brilliant mind. She really does listen to him and his rants about acting and the effectiveness of social niceties!
“Bridgette,” Félix flatly said, vastly unamused.
“Yes, Fé-fé?” Bridgette smiled as she fluttered her eyes innocently, but everyone knew that she did it on purpose.
Félix didn’t even bother to give her a response beyond wrinkling his nose in distaste, but that did little to hide the tiniest pink on his cheeks.
“Moving on to important matters, faction matters,” Félix huffed, expression shifting to that of a businessman approach. “We will be in a… collaboration, of sorts, with Méticuleuse.”
“A collaboration? For what reason?” Allegra raised a brow.
Claude watched Félix silently, the overdramatics easily fading away in the serious topic. This had to be something serious, otherwise Félix would’ve informed him sooner. For all his joking around and making small talk, this was definitely an odd situation to be in.
“I had an… enlightening discussion with Marinette regarding an unexpected matter,” Félix stated, a thoughtful look on his face. “To put it simply, it’s one of utmost secrecy, and I’ve given her my word. Her faction, as it is now, is incapable of handling such a task in its full capacity, and I needed time to give it my consideration.”
Well, that does explain why he didn’t confide in Claude right away.
“So you’re deciding to help them out now,” Allan noted, interested. “What exactly does Marinette want from us, though?”
Claude could only consider that maybe it involved the Lila situation. Even though she didn’t have that much of an influence on the school as a whole, she had her claws in Madame Bustier’s students — not all, but enough to cause problems. If needed, Bridgette could easily pass off as Marinette’s stunt double; during their élémentaire days, everyone always thought that they were either twins or sisters. Naturally, Claude didn’t really like that train of thought, because who knows what that crazy girl would do?
“Information tracking,” Félix stated. “It would seem that Marinette is trying to track down Papillon by narrowing down a list of potential suspects.”
“What?”
Claude didn’t know who asked that question. Maybe it was him, maybe it was someone else, regardless, they were all surprised. It was just twist after twist after twist.
The Ladyblog existed as a… well, as a fansite, really. People only kept up with it for Akuma updates and the livestreams. Even the news would occasionally use the live footage if they needed it. It’s been a few years into Papillon’s reign of terror, and… apparently, it was a genius idea in hindsight. Nobody ever considered trying to create some kind of tracker.
At least, until Marinette did.
“How long has she been working on this project?” Claude asked, frowning.
From what he knows of her, even vaguely, Marinette had to have… some sort of groundwork before presenting the idea. Otherwise, this wouldn’t have been presented the way it was. Félix came into this conversation knowing exactly what was going to be done, how it should go, and he had to have found that it was an interesting deal overall.
“After the events of Miracle Queen, I believe. The information had been compiled as a list of every single Akuma victim, the known location of the akumatization, the object chosen, their danger level, if they were chosen as a frequent victim, and a short summary of what happened to cause the situation,” Félix answered calmly. “It was all done in a document, which will be emailed to you. There is over one hundred pages of information from the past years. All of which is accurate and confirmed by Ladybug herself.”
Marinette collaborated with Ladybug on this?
“You’re kidding me,” Allegra said, dumbfounded. “I knew that Ladybug was being sighted near her family’s bakery… but I always assumed that she was just keeping an eye on Françoise Dupont for the sheer numbers of akumatizations…”
“That must’ve taken forever to compile all of it,” Allan crossed his arms. “Was she doing this all on her own?”
“For the most part,” Félix said. “After she decided to bring her faction back into the picture, she delegated the task of designing and creating a website layout to Marc and Nathaniel, but the information gathering is all of her own doing. She wants to launch her own blog focused solely on the akuma and tracking it down to prevent casualties and to allow the heroes to focus on the fight rather than rescue, but she’s not tech-savvy nor does she have time to give it her full focus, Marc can only handle editing a simple blog layout, and she doesn’t trust some of her classmates at this point, former heroes or not.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Claude wryly smiled. “So I guess you’re gonna have Allan take on the whole coding thing, me and Allegra handling the influx of information when this project goes public, Bridgette’s direct connections to ensure accurate information, and you handling the social media, then?”
“Yes, precisely,” Félix smiled, clearly pleased by Claude’s accurate assessment. “Although, we will all be tasked with occasionally keeping tabs on the influx of information, so that there will be at least one person available to handle anything that pops up. We’ll be working on this with Marc Anciel, who will help with monitoring the influx of information when he has time.”
“Marc Anciel…?” Allegra blinked.
“You remember Mars, right? Monsieur Anciel sometimes brought him to some of the parties he played at and they would sometimes talk to only Marinette. That’s Marc. I don’t think anyone calls them Mars anymore,” Allan said. “He’s the writer for that Adventures of Ladybug webcomic series, with Nathaniel Kurtzberg as his artist.”
“I see… I should apologize to him, then. This whole time I thought he was a girl,” Allegra shook her head.
“Félix,” Bridgette said. “I understand that Marinette is busy, but why is Marinette entrusting this to us? Chloé has been trying to redeem herself to Ladybug after that major screw up of hers, plus, Sabrina isn’t terrible with multitasking and she’s good at information gathering. I don’t understand why she would pick us, specifically, when she knows that we all have our own things to do.”
The situation was already a surprise, but seeing Félix Graham de Vanily, of all people, actually getting a little red and looking somehow… embarrassed, wasn’t what Claude was expecting. What a curveball.
“That would be partly due to my personal request to assist. I’m not sure how much you’re aware of the events that occurred the last time I came to Paris,” he states, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “While I knew of Papillon, I hadn’t been aware of the full extent of what he did. In the midst of my grief towards my cousin, I maliciously responded to his friends, which led to several… issues.”
Claude vaguely remembers overhearing a few of Madame Bustier’s students condemning Félix for impersonating Adrien after he left. They often complained about the dumbest things sometimes, and it didn’t sound like something Félix would do anyway, so he disregarded it.
Maybe he shouldn’t have disregarded it as “not his Félix”…
“Needless to say, I had given Ladybug a poor first impression of myself, and it would seem that word of my actions had reached Marinette. We both had a proper discussion, and she believed that if I truly wish to remedy that poor impression, as well as our past grievances, then offering my assistance would be beneficial. In return, Marinette intends on assisting me with a personal family matter.”
“…wait, wait, wait,” Claude frowned. “You want to redeem yourself to Ladybug? How bad was it that you got on her bad side to begin with?”
“Let’s just say that… it would be inconvenient for me if I do nothing.”
——————————
“As you all already know, Nino and Alya broke up several days ago,” Marinette stated from her seat at her computer desk. “And that’s why I asked you to come here today.”
Alix was pacing back and forth, grumbling several choice swear words under her breath as she fumed, her face red in clear anger and frustration. Kim’s brows knitted, a frown on his face as he absentmindedly watched Alix and their constant pacing from his spot on the trunk against the wall. Bridgette was sitting on the chaise, her arms crossed with a frown on her lips, and her long hair was tied up in twin braids, with a neat purple ribbon.
“She’s unreasonable!” Alix hissed, finally reaching to a halt as she threw her arms up in the air. “Fucking hell, Marinette! She’s slandering you and Nino left and right, telling everybody that Nino cheated, and I’ll swear to Ladybug’s Kwami that if she doesn’t shut up, I’ll do it for her!”
Bridgette looked concerned, glancing over to Marinette who closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a few calming breaths.
“They’ve been like this for several days now,” Marinette flatly answered.
“Ah…” Bridgette opened her mouth, then closed it and simply nodded. “So… remind me again what happened? Nino didn’t tell me much.”
“Lila lied to Alya that Nino was cheating on her with me. Alya believed her, and when Nino went to talk to her about Lila and her lies, Alya snapped and broke up with him,” Marinette flatly answered, looking thoroughly unamused with her own statement.
“Which is fucking stupid!” Alix growled through gritted teeth. “Why the hell would Nino cheat on Alya?! Seriously! His daddy issues are more than enough of a reason for him to swear off dating in its entirety, and yet he still gave it a try because he likes her! Why the hell would he ever consider—”
“About that,” Marinette spoke up, interrupting what seemed to be an endless rant on Alix’s end with a weary look. “Nino never told her about Olivier. Including the therapy appointments, the divorce case, the custody agreements — everything, for that matter.”
“What?!” Kim and Alix both exploded at the same time. Alix, in utter disbelief, and Kim in wide-eyed shock.
“…I can see that,” Bridgette awkwardly laughed, fingers unraveling one of her braids and absentmindedly braiding it. “Nino can hardly say his name without grimacing or getting angry and upset, and he thinks of Monsieur Dupain as his dad, so there’s no point in bringing it up apart from saying that Olivier’s gone.”
“I dunno, though,” Kim frowned, crossing his arms over his chest as he tilted his head, thinking it over. “Would Alya even believe that Nino didn’t cheat, if she knew? She sounded super upset and confident that it happened.”
“I should’ve managed my schedule better,” Bridgette sighed, looking rather regretful. “I essentially prioritized my training and Claude and only ever knew of Alya by seeing her in passing or through pictures and videos…”
“I bet Lila paid lookalikes to stage some pictures,” Alix grumbled, crossing her arms.
“…it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out who. How many Parisian Asians with blue eyes are there? It’ll be the easiest to search for,” Bridgette hummed, thoughtful. “I’ll message the A-P-I Youths group chat, since that’s probably why you’re actively involving me.”
“Thank you, Bridgette,” Marinette nodded, jotting something down in her notebook. “I also wanted to talk to you about your commission, but we can save that for later.”
“Alrighty,” Bridgette gave her a thumbs up and a smile.
“There’s another thing that Nino and I talked about,” Marinette grimaced at her own words and shot Alix a knowing look. “I suggested moving forward with our timeline, because doing so meant that Alya would have no choice but to realize that Lila’s a liar overall. However, Nino… doesn’t want us to.”
“You’re fucking kidding me,” Alix flatly said, unamused.
“And,” Marinette added, looking pained for continuing. “He doesn’t want you going after Alya either. Yes, he’s still upset, and he’s spent the past few days going to sleep crying, but he just wants to move on from this.”
Kim and Alix both shared a look with each other, both equally displeased with the decision.
“So then what? You’re all just going to stand aside and watch Nino suffer because of Alya and Lila?” Bridgette asked, eyes narrowed. “Are you not even going to try to defend yourself, Marinette? There are people wondering if any those lies have any merit to it. Are you telling me that you’re going to let your reputation sink and set Nino’s feelings aside just because he doesn’t want a confrontation?”
Marinette sharply stared at Bridgette with narrowed eyes, “Need I remind you that this was Nino’s request, not my agreement. I’m choosing to respect what he wants at this moment in time, even if I think it’s a big mistake, because Nino doesn’t want to talk about Olivier any more than when we were all in élémentaire. Chloé had taken that decision away from him then, and it’s only because Nino is under my protection that Chloé isn’t escalating the situation for her twisted enjoyment. He doesn’t want any of you going after Alya over their breakup, but that doesn’t mean you can’t defend us if you hear anything. On top of that, if I say anything, it only sounds like I’m justifying myself to them when Nino and I have done nothing to warrant this entire mess,” it was then that Marinette looked almost… pained. “No matter how much I wish I were, I’m not the person capable of changing Alya’s mind, and the same goes for Nino. It’s a lose-lose situation no matter how you might look at it, Bridgette, and right now, I only want Nino to focus on himself.”
It was clear that Bridgette was still displeased, but she could see Marinette’s point. Nino wanted all of them to respect his decision, and they had the option of either complying or not. Complying with the given choice meant letting them potentially suffer more, but not doing so meant going against Nino’s feelings on the matter and might make it worsen in a different way.
“I don’t know if I can stand aside like that,” Kim crossed his arms, clearly in disagreement. “It’s not a good feeling hearing them talk about you and Nino like that, and just… letting it slide. It isn’t right, Marinette.”
Alix groaned. “I just know that I’m not gonna hold back if I hear them talking shit, but I’ll… try. For Nino.”
“And that’s fine, it’s more than enough that you’re trying. We don’t expect you to stay completely silent and outright ignore them,” Marinette sighed, her eyes wistfully staring at the remaining pictures on her corkboard. “Just… try not to bring up Olivier, okay? That’s the one topic he wants to have control over in his life — we’ve both accepted that Alya doesn’t want to listen to us, and he’s… tired of it.”
——————————
It’s been nearly two weeks since Nino and Alya broke up, and Adrien feels absolutely lost as to what he should do as their friend.
Predictably, Alya got akumatized on the day of the breakup, but surprisingly, Ladybug quickly resolved the situation with what felt like a slap on a wrist. She normally tolerated his flirting, but she had practically ignored him and then later apologized for ignoring him when they gave each other a fist bump after the fight as per tradition. Even then, she was a lot more curt than usual, a lot more cold. There wasn’t even a mention of his flirting, or that she didn’t reciprocate his feelings and that he ought to cut it out. Overall, it was concerning how almost… unresponsive she was to anything else during the fight. He didn’t think much of it, then, because Nino and Alya breaking up was… eye opening, but in the aftermath of it all, he wonders if she was doing okay.
Madame Bustier’s class as a whole wasn’t any better, with the class fracturing over the breakup.
Some were focused on comforting Alya, others argued against the accusations, and the rest were uncertain. Lila and Alya would essentially slander Nino’s name, and no matter what, Adrien couldn’t figure out the words to say in Nino’s defense because it’s too overwhelming to be caught in the middle and the thought of it made him… nervous.
Kim, and Alix spearheaded the defense, loud and heated and roaring with rage — Marinette did what she could when she was within earshot, but considering that she was being accused as a side piece, Alya refused to listen to her. (Adrien didn’t even know what a side piece meant when it was first said, and Plagg explained it with convoluted cheese metaphors that he doesn’t care to remember if he had to be honest, even if he figured it out in the end.)
Nino and Rose had swapped seats in the aftermath of the breakup, and Adrien only knew ahead of time thanks to Nino’s text messages. Juleka would pat Nino on the back with the most uncomfortable look in her eyes, occasionally glancing over to Rose anxiously as if needing her reassurance, and Rose would only smile kindly at Juleka. Clearly, some of their classmates knew something that Adrien didn’t, and he wonders — not for the first time — if it’s because they all grew up together. There were more people than he initially thought that would come to Nino’s defense, a fact that he was thankful for.
There had been radio silence on Nino’s end for the most part, and it was becoming increasingly hard to talk to him one on one. Most of the responses Adrien received were one-word answers and a “Sorry bro, I’m just not feeling up to it” whenever Adrien suggested hanging out.
Rose was a good friend — more than Adrien was being, at the very least. While she’s firm in the belief that Nino didn’t cheat — as she confirmed to him when Alya and Lila weren’t around — she subtly steers the conversation away from the topic and onto something else. It seemed almost effortless, the way she steers their conversations away from Nino and Marinette.
There were times when Rose hesitated, her smile forced, and her fists clenched with her nails digging into her own skin. It couldn’t be helped, though, and Adrien understood her feelings all too well.
They both wanted things to go back to the way it was before, but he’s only now understanding that… it won’t.
Real life is nothing like TV shows and movies and everything else that’s fictional.
Still, what should he do? He thought Lila’s lies were harmless, so he did nothing about it. He thought nothing bad would come of it — ignore the media and their lies, and the wonder of it all will fade away. His mother used to always reassure him of that as fact, so shouldn’t it stand to reason that it would be applicable here? Even his father agreed with his late mother’s words, so Adrien saw no reason to go against it.
(But Lila isn’t an abstract problem like the media can be. She’s just a girl, a girl who wormed her way into his own home, got into his father’s good graces, and lied to his friends. A girl who somehow earned her father’s trust, when Adrien could not, and a girl who forced her way into being a part of his life against his wishes.
That was another thing Plagg pointed out in a casual matter-of-fact tone.
Adrien hates how it took this long to see what was most likely Marinette’s perspective of the problem. Another thing to apologize to her for — if only he knew what to say.)
Chloé seemed to find some sort of twisted amusement in listening to Alya spout out slanderous remarks involving Nino. The way she watches the conversation idly, as if expecting the impending trainwreck and simply waiting for it to happen. He’s known her for years, and she has that “I know something you idiots don’t know” look.
When he asked her about it, once, she snorted and claimed that he could easily find the online articles.
Whatever that meant.
Like a dam waiting to burst, Alya finally does when it becomes known that most of their classmates actually believed in Nino’s innocence, and that those who comforted Alya had tentatively suggested a misunderstanding at play. All it took was Lila crying that they think she’s lying about it to spark the fire. Uncomfortable looks had been exchanged as some of them tried to placate Lila with reassurances of “we know you mean well” and “it’s just that it’s not the Nino we know”, but Alya’s anger had risen.
“Why are you all so insistent that Nino didn’t cheat on me?!” Alya had all but cried in the classroom. It was only morning with several minutes until class started, and only Marinette, Nino, and Kim hadn’t shown up yet out of all their classmates.
Which was likely for the best. If Nino was here, it was a 50-50 of Alya ignoring him or getting increasingly frustrated at how calm he’s been since the breakup.
Adrien glances around the classroom, worried.
Down in the front of the classroom was Lila standing behind her, as if hiding behind Alya with her fake crying, with Mylène anxiously trying to soothe Lila and her crocodile tears. Ivan, never far from his girlfriend, was also down there, but instead, he was acting as a sort of obstacle between Alya and Alix. Alix, who had just marched down the steps of their classroom to face off against Alya and her slander.
Nathaniel and Juleka had both sat in the seat closest to the aisle, occasionally whispering to one another. Juleka had anxiously started biting her nails, and Nathaniel held his textbook up almost like it was a shield, occasionally glancing over it and wincing as if a fight would break out any second and drag him into the fray.
Meanwhile, Chloé had filed her nails, glancing at them with a pleased smile as she tilted her fingers to admire it. Occasionally, she would look up at the group standing by Madame Bustier’s desk with an amused smirk. Sabrina had an ipad propped up on the table while she wrote in a journal with her right hand.
Max remained in his seat, looking on at the scene warily as he muttered something to Markov.
And Rose, who sat beside him, began to fidget with a pink ribbon tied around her wrist, watching the scene before them with an anxious look. Her eyes kept darting back and forth between the two clear opposing sides, and her smile would turn into a near frown.
“Because for the last goddamn time,” Alix growled back, grinding her teeth as she glared at Alya, practically ready to grab her by the collar if it weren’t for Ivan acting as a barrier of sorts. “Nino wouldn’t fucking cheat! Your head’s so far up your—”
For every vitriol and accusation coming from Alya, Alix would readily fight back with twice as much fire. He doesn’t get how her responses are rapid and swift without even a moment’s hesitation, but Adrien would wince at it all the same. It seemed to get increasingly worse the longer Alix and Alya were left to it without interruption, and Adrien was certain that a physical fight would break out sooner had it not been for Kim actively putting a stop to it.
“A-Alya,” Lila hesitated, acting rather timid. “M-maybe they’ll believe us if they see the pictures?”
She flashed Lila a thankful smile before pulling out her phone, scrolling around for pictures.
Photos?
Of what? Adrien frowned. Did Lila hire two lookalikes to frame Nino as a cheater?
That would explain why she was so eager to throw Nino under the bus ever since he started to slowly show signs of discomfort around Lila. Did Lila plan on doing this? Turning some of their classmates on Nino just like she tried with Marinette?
He was relieved that it never went any further, that his classmates won’t be so easily turned against them. Maybe there was still a way to turn this situation around.
But how?
“Prove me wrong,” Alix challenged, eyes blazing as she looked at Lila and Alya with full confidence. “I fucking dare you.”
Suddenly, everyone’s phones all go off due to a text message from Alya. From the looks of things, she sent the pictures of the supposed evidence to everyone in the classroom. The reactions of the pictures varied, with a few gasps, a few who remained silent, and the rest…
Well…
Incredulous might be a good word for it.
“How insecure are you?” Alix barked out a laugh, something filled with disbelief and twisted amusement.
Adrien… didn’t know how to feel about the pictures. He could tell that it was Nino, with his signature red cap and black framed glasses. Truth be told, the pictures looked fairly simple, taken from a candid view not unlike paparazzi pictures.
It would be a stretch to call them incriminating evidence, however.
The girl in the photo seemed familiar, and if he only saw it in passing, he would’ve assumed it was Marinette. However, staring at the first picture made him pause, because when has Marinette ever worn her hair in twin braids? Nino’s face was mostly seen as the girl looked to be kissing him based on the picture’s angle, but upon closer inspection, it was a greeting kiss. Overall, a standard faire la bise. The longer he looked at the picture, he realized that the Marinette lookalike wore a dark blue oversized sweater — cashmere, maybe?
Still, he and Chloé gave each other greeting kisses, but that didn’t mean anything. Were people supposed to give a la bise to lovers then? Was that the implication? He might need to ask Nathalie for an in-depth lesson on social greetings, if that were the case… and since when did Marinette ever wear something other than pink, white, and black?
“First off, this is terrible quality for a picture, so did it ever cross your mind that it’s a faire la bise? And that friends can hug each other without it being weird?” Alix scoffed. “Secondly, you don’t even know who the hell you’re talking about!”
As Adrien looks at the next picture of Nino holding two tickets up for the girl. He squints at the image. And then, he stops. He stops and… stares.
Because Marinette doesn’t have brown eyes.
“That’s Bridgette Canh, genius! It’s not even Marinette — what a fucking joke. She’s Claude Sainté-Pierre’s girlfriend, but I bet you don’t even remember the guy even if he’s literally in the last picture! And, if you ever bothered to listen to Nino, you would know who the hell she is.”
Briefly, Adrien recalls hearing about the girl in question every once in a while. Nino talked about her once every blue moon, referring to her as a family friend — while Bridgette’s mom wasn’t as well-known as her father, her mom was a lawyer. Adrien was curious, but Nino never told him what the cases were about, and questioning it never came to Adrien’s mind, even now. He didn’t know much of Claude, but he recalls meeting Bridgette once in passing, and he vividly recalls that meeting because, from behind, he mistook her for… oh.
Oh.
He mistook her for Marinette back then.
Not only were their eyes different, but Bridgette’s hair went all the way down to her waist. She only ever wore varying shades of blue, but her default was her blue sweater. And always, without fail, she would end up hugging Claude’s arm even if she stops to hug someone she knows. Bridgette was incredibly attached to her boyfriend, and Nino had told Adrien that she had to be careful with her affection for other people because she didn’t want to invite misunderstandings, given that she was well-known in her community filled with gossiping aunts.
Upon seeing the two tickets, Adrien frowns as he remembers what those tickets were for. Nino mentioned that he asked for help filming a video for a summer competition from the couple and their friends found on his YT account. For Brie and Claude, he bought them two tickets to a Swan Lake ballet performance and this… must’ve been when he gave them the tickets.
In the last of the three pictures was a simple hug. There was a boy with brown hair and pale skin, with bright blue eyes, who was barely in the frame of the picture. Almost unnoticeable, but Adrien recognized the blurred person as Claude.
Chloé barked out a laugh, turning to Sabrina who, Adrien realized, has been recording on her ipad this whole time.
“Sabrina, forward the pictures to Marinette. And send her whatever you recorded,” she snickered, lips curling up in amusement. “Maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll get to see Marinette pissed off for once.”
Sabrina nodded eagerly, complying with Chloé’s request.
Marinette? Pissed off? Rather than their class president, Alix and Alya both were the ones who were gonna explode in a fit of rage.
“You don’t know that!” Alya gritted her teeth as she glared at Alix, looking the slightest bit doubtful at her own. “Lila said she saw them holding hands! That they shared more than a la bise! Marinette or not, this still proves he cheated on me!”
“Spare us the fucking charade,” Alix seethed, shoving past Ivan to jab Alya in the chest with her index finger, eyes darkening. “You’ve been dating Nino for over two goddam years. You really want to make this cheating allegation stick? Well good fucking luck with that!” Alix barked out a laugh, almost mocking. “Take a damn good look at those pictures, at your so-called evidence, at the girl you’re accusing to be a homewrecker, and then that last picture, where her fucking boyfriend is blurred out.”
“What do you—“ Alya blinked, eyes wide as she quickly pulled her phone back up.
“Just admit it,” Alix hissed. “You didn’t want to be with him anymore, so you made up this whole goddamn lie in your head. Otherwise, you’re just a complete dumbass.”
Alya opened her mouth, ready to retort when Alix gave a warning glare, eyes lit with anger. She was even angrier than she had been before.
“Don’t even try, Césaire. What do you know about Nino, huh? Are you telling me that nothing about his fucking family ever came up? Or how Marinette felt, for you to assume that she would hurt you like that, especially when she’s seen what cheating’s done to people? You don’t even realize how much you hurt them when you—!”
The door opens, cutting off Alix’s tirade.
Standing at the forefront was Marinette who stared down at her phone, with Kim holding the door open behind her as he was in a clear conversation with someone. Immediately, Adrien realized with a sinking feeling that, chances were, things were about to sour even further.
“Brie told me something a little interesting that happened last Sunday and I wanna hear more about it,” Nino asked, sounding incredibly amused.
“Oh god,” Kim groaned, face palming. “That little snitch.”
“Yeah, at that A-P-I Youths meeting. Maman mentioned something about it, since both of your moms got really worried,” Marinette responded idly, her eyes finally leaving her phone to observe everyone around them. “Something about how you shouldn’t be scared to come out to them? Why, Kim, I didn’t even know you were in the closet to begin with.”
“Man, all of you wish,” Kim stuck his tongue out and promptly flexed his arms, shooting a flirty grin at Nino who jokingly placed a hand over his heart in response. “A closet can’t contain my fine ass.”
“I’m sure Ondine appreciates it, bro,” Nino laughed, patting Kim’s back as Alix made a fake retching noise as she stepped away from Alya. “Now bring it down, Hercules, otherwise you’re gonna make Alix legit vomit in the classroom.”
“Hunk-ules,” Kim corrected with an impish grin, nudging Nino with his elbow. “And Alix is just jealous of me.”
“Yeah, cause Ondine’s too good for you,” Alix snapped back with a roll of her eyes.
Their fun little conversation quickly subsided as they all fully entered the classroom and finally took notice of the likely confrontation. Alix’s shoulders relax as she stands closer to Marinette’s side. Everyone was silent as Marinette glanced around the room, and Adrien shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He can see Rose fidgeting with the pink ribbon tied around her wrist from the corner of his eyes once again.
The joy that was in Nino’s eyes had immediately fallen as he looked… pained. He looked uncomfortable, clearly wanting to leave, and not for the first time, the guilt aches in Adrien’s chest. He doesn’t look away, forcing himself to remember that it’s his fault for Nino’s pain.
Marinette looked over to Chloé, who smiled almost deviously, twirling her fingers at her. “You can thank me later, Nettie.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose at Chloé’s blatant delight over the situation.
“Alix,” Marinette flatly said, not even bothering to acknowledge Lila, although her eyes did glance briefly over to Alya the most out of the small group before focusing on Alix.
While Alix didn’t seem regretful, she did wince, looking as if she was in for a scolding. Which, Adrien thinks, wouldn’t be too far fetched considering how protective Marinette’s been over Nino ever since the breakup.
“I snapped,” Alix admitted, almost proud of the fact if not for the narrowed look in Marinette’s eyes. “I tried not to, and I didn’t say anything out of line,” her eyes swept over to Nino, expression softening, her fists trembling. “And… I know you didn’t want me to, but I’m not gonna stand by and let her continue slandering your name. Both of you. Not anymore.”
Marinette’s eyes softened, but she crossed her arms, deferring to Nino as she looked over to him. There was a silent question, one that Adrien didn’t know how to interpret, but he had the faint impression that she was letting him have the final say on the matter. It was almost familiar, in her stance and in the way she held herself.
“…okay,” Nino slowly nodded, eyes warily glancing over to Alya who gritted her teeth and averted her gaze. Which, Adrien thinks, is a surprise because he felt almost certain that she was going to yell at him.
“Do you… wanna ditch?” Kim quietly asked, his expression dropping to something comforting as he placed a hand on Nino’s shoulder. It was more of a whisper, but in the silence of the classroom, he was heard clearly. “Nettie can talk to Bustier for us, or I can do it if you need to talk to Nettie about stuff.”
“No… no,” Nino hesitantly shook his head. “I’ll stay,” he took a deep breath. “Nettie, are you fine with sitting next to Jules or on your own? Kim and I wanted to share a desk to talk about something.”
“Sure thing,” Marinette finally smiled, warm and reassuring.
“How could you act like nothing happened?!” Alya seemed to burst, angered at being ignored as she marched over towards Nino. Kim and Marinette both moved, the two of them blocking Alya from taking another step closer towards him. “And how could you?!” She directed at Marinette, eyes flashing angrily as she stared at Marinette’s calm blue eyes. “How can you stand aside and let Nino cheat on me?!”
“Because Nino would never cheat on you,” Marinette stated, firm and confident and calm, and the slightest bit disappointed. “He has nothing to be ashamed of, no matter what you claim. If anyone should be ashamed, it’s you for making these accusations — where is your journalistic integrity? Where’s the further research? Did you even try to talk to him about the supposed evidence, tried to get an explanation and followed up on it? No, you just saw what you wanted to see, took it, and ran with it. You just assumed it was me, and now you’re just making assumptions of someone you barely know. I didn’t need to watch Chloé’s video to know what happened; the pictures alone are enough. You didn’t bother looking into things, you just made your assumptions and took it as fact, Alya.”
“…What are you talking about? What pictures? What’s this about a video?” Nino’s brows pinched, and Marinette wordlessly handed him her phone.
She didn’t say anything, and simply kept her guard up.
“Oh, isn’t that Brie?” Kim asked, glancing at the phone briefly.
“…I think this was around two weeks ago, since that was the last time I actually talked to her face to face,” Nino absentmindedly noted, swiping to the next picture. “Oh, this is after, when I gave her and Claude two tickets to that Swan Lake ballet performance as thanks for helping me film my video for the competition,” he noted, frowning as he stared at the pictures, swiping to the last one as he stopped to wonder. “Wait… why would anyone take a picture of…”
Eventually, he snapped his head up, looking at Marinette’s blank look and Alya’s desperate expression. Realization dawned on him.
“Wait… this is the so-called evidence? She—you— Alya thought…?” Nino frowned, his eyes darting back and forth from Marinette and Alya as he handed Marinette her phone back. Disbelief was clear on his face, offended by the now apparent reasoning. “You’re kidding me. I understood when you jumped to conclusions because it was Marinette, and everyone knew that I had a crush on her before. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been accusing me because of a misunderstanding, but you’re telling me that it didn’t actually matter who you were accusing me with?”
Adrien winced, watching as Nino’s eyes began to water despite the absolute hurt in his expression.
“Christ, you were right, Marinette,” Nino laughed, bitter and hurt and almost mocking. “She wouldn’t have believed me whether I was right or wrong, or if I actually told her everything!”
“Nino, that’s not what I meant,” Marinette softly stated, slow and careful as her eyes shifted to him, occasionally glancing back to Alya warily. “I said that telling her might make her reconsider her thoughts, but that it didn’t matter if she chose to not trust you in the end.”
“Tell me what?” Alya had asked, the question sounding more like a desperate demand.
“I don’t owe you anything, Alya,” Nino scoffed, looking away from her. “You can just keep making your assumptions about me, about everyone. What does it matter, anyway? You don’t trust me or Marinette, and clearly, you never did! It’s just — you don’t listen to me, and I don’t even think you ever actually cared about me.”
“Nino,” Marinette sharply said, something of a warning and a tone implying that it wasn’t true.
“Since our breakup is public news, we might as well bring up old news,” Nino shook his head. “Because guess what, Alya? It’s plain and clear, and it’s not even a secret: Bridgette’s mom is a divorce attorney. Let that sink in — why would my mom ever be in contact with a divorce attorney to begin with? You’re so hellbent on this cheating narrative, that you just assumed I’m fine with throwing it all away! I never cheated, and did you honestly think I’m okay with letting things end like that? Well, newsflash, Alya, I’m not okay! It’s on me for never telling you that my family got screwed over because Olivier fucked off and cheated and—” he cuts himself off, taking in a deep breath.
Marinette placed her hand on his back, her brows pinched in worry as she stared at Nino, seeming to look for something.
Nino, however, looks over to Chloé.
“Bourgeois.”
“What, Lahiffe,” Chloé flatly answered back, nonplussed at the mention of her name in the argument at hand. “This whole thing is none of my business.”
“Oh, but it is, Your Highness,” Nino wryly laughed, with a touch of frustration. “When my parents divorced, you made it everyone’s problem. You told everyone about what happened back then, that you thought that my family was screwed up to begin with, and exactly what you wanted to be done about my enrollment. So do me a favor and say it now. Say whatever you want, you have my permission.”
At this, Chloé skeptically raised a brow. “Whatever I want?”
“Whatever. You. Want.”
“Nino, are you sure?” Marinette asked, trying to be the voice of reason.
“You were right. I can’t prove my innocence to someone unwilling to believe me, Marinette,” Nino flatly answered back, ignoring the concern, ignoring the silent warning and just blazing ahead. “But what I can do is give everyone a damn good reason on why I swore to always be a good partner, why I would never cheat.”
He marches over to the steps between his and Chloé’s table, looking at Chloé dead in the eyes.
“Do it, Bourgeois. I dare you.”
“Nino Travere,” Chloé drawled, sneering at him and earning a sharp glare from Marinette. “Oh, pardon moi, it’s Lahiffe now, isn’t it?” she rolled her eyes. “How dare you address me so casually. Still, Ladybug says I need to be kinder, so I suppose I can kindly oblige,” her lips curled, her smile cold, callous, and cruel. “You did give me your permission, after all.”
It’s different from the Chloé he knows, the one Adrien’s so familiar with. He’s heard scathing words in fuming aggression, heard her pitch a fit and cry over what someone considers spilled milk, but for once, Chloé’s calm. She’s malicious about this — whatever it is — but overall, she’s calm and controlled with her words.
Adrien couldn’t bring himself to stand up, to try and protect Nino from… whatever he’s trying to do with this.
(Why, he wonders, is it so much easier to move when he’s Chat Noir?)
“I heard that your daddy abandoned you and your family for an actress. What was his name again? Olivier Travere, right? That famous actor who got caught in a cheating scandal due to his mistress several years ago — funny, isn’t it? Did you know that he’s remarried now? Three children with that homewrecker, all while ignoring you and your poor little brother. You had no place in his life, and you never did with Notre Dame, and if Dupont was anything like Notre Dame, I’d argue for you to be booted ages ago because you’re just not rich enough and up to snuff,” she sneered. “But you should be glad that you’re more talented than your deadbeat cheating dad, because at least you have some worth in your work—”
“That’s enough,” Marinette intervened, her voice firm and her eyes hardened, shifting to stand in front of Nino, blocking him from Chloé’s view now. Kim followed after, still being a guard against Alya, but he looked just as upset as Marinette. “Both of you. Nino, just because you’re upset doesn’t mean you should bring up something that hurts. Chloé, that is not what Ladybug meant by being nicer and you know it.”
“This is utterly ridiculous. I don’t know why you’re upset at me for saying what he wanted me to say,” Chloé scoffed. “He literally gave me permission—”
“Chloé. Zip it,” Marinette all but growled, glowering at the blonde who huffed.
Nino breathed, the anger slowly ebbing away as he tiredly closed his eyes, as if suddenly drained. Chloé crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, glancing at her nails as if she hadn’t just said anything horrible to Nino. The classroom is silent, with everyone watching with bated breath, but only for a moment.
“…Nino—“ Alya hesitantly spoke up, eyes wide as she looked back and forth between him and Chloé. Her hand twitched, as if wanting to reach out, as if wanting to do something.
“No,” Nino stated, voice flat as he stared at the floor, almost ashamed, but still upset.
“No?” Alya sputtered. “W-what do you mean no?”
“Whatever you have to say to me can wait until I’m in a better headspace,” Nino slowly shook his head, hands clenched into fists and Nino looked… frustrated. “And, I might as well be honest here since I’ve gone this far, but I don’t wanna hear whatever you have in mind. Berating me, apologizing, accusing, arguing — whatever it is, I don’t wanna hear it. Not now, not today or maybe not even tomorrow, but I’m… I’m tired of this, Alya. I… I’ve… I just…”
Nino was right next to him. Nino’s been standing next to him, and Adrien doesn’t know what to do. He knows how to behave in public, he normally knows what people want to hear, but none of that advice accounted for a friend going through heartbreak.
All Adrien does is reach his hand out, holding Nino’s clenched fist. His mind is blank, the words stuck in the lump in his throat.
Nino shoots Adrien a look with watery eyes and a weak smile, as if expressing his gratitude.
Not for the first time this week, another pang of guilt shoots through him. But Adrien can’t look away, not from this, not from an issue he’s contributed to. This is all he can do after being a bystander? Hold Nino’s hand and sit there while Nino himself is trying not to have a breakdown in the middle of the classroom?
Coward! Adrien’s mind screeches at him, and still, he can’t find any words to say.
(Adrien caused this. Him, doing nothing about Lila’s lies. How many of his friends have been hurt by Lila before it’s come to his attention? How many more will get hurt, if this is how far Lila would go to tear apart a relationship? How did it go unnoticed until now? Was it because Nino is his best friend, and that’s why he didn’t notice anything?
What was right? What was wrong?)
Nino breathes, again, calming himself despite clearly looking tense. He relaxes his hand, giving Adrien’s hand a squeeze.
“I… I don’t like who I am… when I’m with you, Alya,” Nino sounded exhausted in a way that reminded Adrien of wilted flowers, shoulders curling up like withered petals and eyes damp with unshed tears like overwatered soil, hiding in the dirt, but nearly ready to overflow. “And when you broke up with me, I just wanted to be left alone, but for the past several days, you’ve been making our breakup become everybody else’s problem. You talk to everyone else, listen to everybody else, and you might even follow their advice. Even when we were together up until now, you refuse to talk to me, to listen to me, to understand me. And, maybe, you only regret the things you said because you’re starting to finally believe that you were wrong, and I’m sick and tired of trying to be a good partner to you while keeping my friendships on the backburner.”
(The guilt is crushing, and heart wrenching. How much did Adrien really know about Nino, for this moment to come as a surprise to him?)
“So no,” Nino’s voice softens at this, something mournful, something sympathetic, understanding, hurt, and broken. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not anymore. Not right now. I’m sorry.”
The classroom is silent, and Alya starts crying before running out of the classroom. Nino takes a deep breath, and he finally slips his hand away from Adrien’s, looking at Marinette. Adrien follows his gaze, and Marinette’s eyes remain on the door, her brows pinched in worry, yet she remains standing where she is. Her fingers fidget, as if wanting to do something.
Nino lightly elbows her. She snaps her attention back to him, a silent question, a silent request, with her eyes filled with the utmost worry and concern. He breathes, then, he wordlessly gestures for her to go.
“I’ll be fine,” Nino reassures, a knowing look in his eyes. “Go check on her. You’re worried about her, too.”
And after a moment, Marinette’s eyes soften as she nods. Her gaze sweeps over Adrien, and he couldn’t help but wince when they made eye contact.
But then… as she passes him, she stares at Rose. And he sees Rose flinch, guilt and worry written all over her face as she moves her gaze down to the table. Whatever the case, Marinette rushes towards the door. She was running after Alya, from the looks of it.
Kim and Nino move to sit in the far back, and everyone remains quiet in the aftermath.
((And Rose… couldn’t help the guilt in the end.
Because this was her fault.))
——————————
Marinette finds Alya crying in the janitor’s closet by the lockers. She approaches the door that Alya is sobbing behind, and presses her hand on the wooden door.
She takes in a quiet breath, her mind racing with what to say.
It’s easy to reassure a friend, to comfort them, but it’s remarkably harder when it’s a friend you’ve had a falling out with. Marinette had been blessed to always have her friendships remain, fading only with time and neglect from when she stepped down as faction leader. Alya had always been an outlier, her first genuine friend outside of factions and cliques formed from élémentaire days.
“…Alya,” Marinette softly spoke, and Alya loudly sniffs, the sobbing forcibly being stopped with only an occasional sniff and wobbly noise.
“Leave me alone!” Alya cried, her voice booms, trembling and wobbling from the crying. “I-I bet you’re really happy, Marinette,” she angrily stuttered. “T-to know that I was wrong! F-for not listening to you!”
“How could I possibly be happy?” Marinette asked softly and sadly, her head lightly tapping the door. “Even if you say I’m not your friend anymore, I still care about you, Alya.”
Chloé always told her that her bleeding heart is what will let people take advantage of her. It was said at some point, back when Marinette decided to step down from her unwanted leadership, and Chloé had been angry and upset, trying to throw everything at Marinette to make her change her mind. And yet, it was moments like this that Marinette didn’t care about advantages and disadvantages. At the end of the day, she just… wanted her friends to be okay. She’s not a fault-finder like Félix, who nitpicks and keeps to himself, nor is she like Chloé, cruel and callous and uncaring.
“…look. I’m not here to fight you, and I’m not here to talk about anything. I just need to know something,” Marinette’s voice softens. “Do you need a hug?”
Alya doesn’t say anything, but Marinette can hear shuffling behind the closet. It clicks open, and behind it is Alya, with her hair messed up — she got frustrated again, Marinette notes, so Alya probably messed it up and tugged it out of place — and her cheeks stained bright with tears, and snot dripping down her nose.
She looked terrible.
Marinette wordlessly opened her arms, and Alya, with little hesitation, had taken her offer of a hug. Her breathing was ragged, and she further breaks down into Marinette’s shoulder as Marinette guides her back into the closet, hiding her away from any possible stranger from finding her in her state of distress.
Slowly, they both sit down, and Alya keeps sobbing into Marinette’s shoulder as she rubs Alya’s back in a comforting gesture.
It was a delicate process, this, Marinette knows. They weren’t going to let bygones be bygones once they moved past this, they weren’t going to be besties again all of a sudden, but this moment was enough. This moment told Marinette all she needed to know, and that was more precious to her than revealing Lila or immediately finding Papillon at this very second.
Despite their falling out, Alya still cared about Marinette, otherwise she wouldn’t be sitting here with her crying her heart out.