EDITED 1/5/20

Chapter 4: Groan

Alya unlocked her apartment door and walked inside, Nino one step behind her. Her sisters were at school and her parents were at work, so the two of them were by themselves. Normally she would go out with her friends for lunch to avoid this loneliness, but . . . it wouldn't have been the same without everyone there. That was okay, though; those few hours of school already managed to surpass her personal quota of daily interaction, and if she was going to get through the rest of this day, she needed to spend some time isolating her body and mind from all distractions. Besides Nino, that is.

"Your mom has everything in here," Nino remarked, holding open the refrigerator door. She hadn't noticed him move into the kitchen. "I guess I shouldn't expect anything less from a chef." He pulled out an apple and turned to her. "Do you want anything?"

Alya shook her head.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm not hungry."

He shrugged, closed the door and opened a nearby cabinet. "Suit yourself," he said, pulling out a large bag of potato chips.

Alya knew he was trying to sound indifferent, because he knew how much she hated being pushed, but his masked concern was poorly concealed from her trained eyes. She tried to mitigate his worry through teasing. "An apple and chips? Now that's what I call a balanced meal."

Nino glanced at her for a fleeting moment in shock, before his face melted into a mock-hurt expression. "Are you judging me?"

Alya leaned forward, against the counter. "Very much, yes."

"I can't believe this," he said, aghast. Alya snickered and he took a spiteful bite out of his apple. He looked down at the chips. "By the way, if I accidentally eat this entire bag, I apologize in advance."

Alya shoved him on the shoulder. "Ugh, you're such a pig."

Nino grinned at her. "But I'm your pig."

She stuck her tongue out at him, but Alya didn't try to wipe the smile off her face. She was relieved to know that, even now, Nino was still able to cheer her up, no matter how temporarily the mindless moment might've lasted.

And temporary it was. The two of them sat down at the counter, but they could no longer think of anything to say. And without talking to each other, there was no longer any excuse for them to ignore that giant elephant in the middle of the room. Alya was never one to dwell on her hurt, because that included discussing and dissecting the things that truly upset her, and quite frankly she doesn't have the time to unpack all of that.

However, this could not be one of those times. She knew that Nino was just avoiding bringing up yesterday so as to not hurt her feelings, but they both knew they would need to talk about sooner or later. She decided she needed to say something now, when she was feeling fractionally more capable of facing her problems than she had been before.

Alya took a deep breath, and softly said, "Thanks for walking me home yesterday."

Nino froze. ". . . Yeah, of course," was all he replied.

Her heart thrummed anxiously. She suddenly wasn't feeling very capable anymore. "I . . . uh . . ."

His voice was tight. "It's okay, Alya, you don't have to—"

"No!" she said quickly, and then, "I mean . . . I need to do this. I need to talk about . . . about it."

Nino looked like he wanted to protest, but he eventually nodded for her to continue.

Alya opened her mouth.

Then paused.

". . . What is that?"

Nino looked up. "Huh?"

But she wasn't staring at him. Nino followed her gaze out the window. At first he had no idea what she was talking about, but after a moment of searching, he saw it: a small, dark object was sitting outside on the windowsill.

She stood up. "How did that get there?"

"It's probably just trash or something," he guessed, but he stood up as well. Even if it was litter, the apartment was on the third floor, and the windowsill was moderately narrow. It would be very difficult—if even possible—for it to land there by accident.

Alya opened the window carefully and picked up the object. It was a box, and it wasn't very heavy, but it was surprisingly ornate. It was hexagon-shaped and wooden, with an intricate red design engraved on the top. She glanced out the window to the rickety fire escape. It was a bit of a stretch, but if someone was standing there, they could have been able to reach the window.

Who the hell would go through all that trouble to place some weird box on her windowsill?

She bit her lip. "Someone put this here. Deliberately."

Nino nodded his head in agreement. "It looks like a . . . jewelry box?"

Alya placed her hand on the lid, ready to open it, but at the last second she hesitated. This did not sit right with her. She didn't know why she was so scared of a little box, but there was something so antique and cryptic about it that she couldn't help but feel wary of its contents. The fact that someone had placed it, of all places, on the windowsill of her apartment did nothing to help satiate her concerns. Granted, even if it had arrived in a more practical delivery (like the mail), the mysterious, unlabeled box appearing at her house would not fail to perplex her any less.

Alya shook her head. What was happening to her? She was being way too paranoid, even if it wasn't entirely irrational. After all, Alya couldn't remember a time in her life when she vigorously contemplated such a simple decision—or any decision, really.

Alya was a doer. A go-getter. When she wanted something, she pursued it. When she questioned something, she investigated it. When she believed in something, she fought for it. And when she was presented with ominous boxes via very cryptic and questionable methods, she opened it.

Before she could waste any more time on doubt, she gripped the lid and flipped it open.

At first, all she saw were two ordinary earrings, which was baffling all on its own. But before she had any more time to inspect them, there was a startling explosion of pink light.

Alya dropped the box on the floor with a shriek and accidentally tripped backwards into Nino, causing the two of them to fall and slam into the base of the counter. Nino groaned and Alya quickly looked up, her heart pounding rapidly against her rib cage.

Sitting in the middle of the floor was a small, pink . . . creature, with a black dot on its forehead and two long antennae. It rubbed its head and groaned in a squeaky voice.

Alya felt her heart leap out the open window.

Nino choked and scrambled to hide behind his girlfriend. His glasses were crooked. "W-wh—what—?!"

Alya was feeling light headed. "I—I—I don't—"

The thing looked up at them and blinked, clearly dazed and weary. It had blue eyes.

Nino's eyes widened. "Is it a bug?"

"A ladybug," Alya breathed, her eyes widening as well.

The 'ladybug' stared at Alya confusedly. ". . . Alya?"

The two teenagers jerked back in shock at her voice. Nino nearly banged his head against the counter again and Alya stuttered. "H-how do you—you know me?"

Those words seemed to trigger something in the ladybug, because she let out a gasp and suddenly flew up in panic. She quickly spun around, analyzing in the unexciting apartment before she looked back on the speechless teenagers.

The weariness that laid in her eyes only seconds prior was now replaced by horror. Then they started growing glassy as they filled with tears.

And then she started to cry.

Nino and Alya looked at each other in disbelief. With the initial panic dissipating, they were more confused now than scared, but Alya was slowly connecting her thoughts. She . . . she could've just been thinking too far into it, but . . .

Alya reached out a timid hand, and touched the ladybug's small head. The bug looked up as the contact, her tears glistening in the light. She wrapped her arms around her body. "She really left me here," she whimpered to herself.

Alya slowly leaned closer, still feeling apprehensive. She stumbled over her words some more. "Are you—do y—what are you?"

The ladybug rubbed her eye with a tiny paw, and tried to compose herself. She sniffled. "My name is Tikki." Tikki paused, trying to choose her words carefully. "I . . ." Her shoulders slumped, suddenly, as if the weight of the world had been placed there. Her voice returned tired, dejected, resigned. ". . . I'm what allowed Marinette to . . . transform into Ladybug."

Those few words grabbed their attention in a death grip. Nino leaned forward too, pointing at her. "W-wait—you know Marinette?"

Tikki bowed her head. "I did."

"Did?" Alya asked, her voice slowly growing more anxious. "What do you mean did? Where is she? Did something happen to her? Is she okay? I-is she still—"

"She's alive," Tikki assured quietly. "But she's . . ."

"What?" Alya pressed.

Tikki's lip quivered. "She's in trouble."

...

. . .

Eighteen Hours Earlier

. . .

Ladybug hadn't been running for very long before her earrings began to beep, but she had certainly run far. Not wanting to keep Tikki waiting any longer, she took this as her cue to find someplace to hide.

She darted down a few more blocks, quickly calculating her surroundings, before finding the perfect place: a small alley in between two closed buildings. It was dark, narrow, and cluttered with trash cans, but it was easy to miss if you weren't looking for it, which was the type of concealment she needed. Ladybug looked over her shoulder one last time, and when she saw that she was once again not being watched, she swung into the shadows.

She landed unsteadily on her feet. The yo-yo slipped from her fingers and rolled across the dirty asphalt until it hit a trash can. Ladybug collapsed against the brick wall behind her, fighting hard to stop herself from puking. The adrenaline that got her here was fading rapidly, and she could no longer ignore the agony consuming her nerves. She curled her sore limbs to herself and gasped for air, trying to remain as still as possible to attenuate as much of the pain as she could.

Her earrings gave a final beep before Tikki flew out, dizzy and limp, nearly exhausted to the point of passing out. Marinette had to force her arm to grab her purse, and she shakily passed the bag to the tired kwami, who almost cried at the sight of her favorite treats before diving into the cookies head first.

After a minute, Tikki poked her head out. With her hunger satisfied and her strength mostly restored, she refocused all of her attention back on her chosen. "How bad is it?" she asked worriedly.

Marinette curled up tighter. "Bad." To put it lightly.

Tikki exited the bag entirely. "What hurts?"

She quietly moaned and clenched her eyes shut. It was too painful to talk. "Everything."

"Can you tell me the worst parts?"

Marinette shook her head, but instantly regretted the motion. The needles were stabbing her brain again, but this time they felt more like knives, slicing through her head all the way to the hilt. The sudden onset of pain made her head spin vigorously, and this time Marinette couldn't stop the bile from rising up her throat. She quickly leaned to the side and puked out her stomach.

Fortunately enough, it didn't take very long for her stomach to empty its contents, and Marinette tiredly leaned back into a sitting position against the wall, blatantly ignoring the puddle of vomit off to the side. Tikki wiped Marinette's messy hair out of her face and placed a tiny hand on her forehead. Her voice was heavy as she informed her, "You're already burning up."

Marinette shifted away from the kwami's touch, too tired to respond. She curled up again and leaned her head against the wall, fighting to ignore the terribly unpalatable taste left in her mouth. That, along with her dry throat and rising temperature, was more than enough reason for her to long for a glass of water, especially after exerting as much energy as she did.

(Focusing on such a relatively small problem didn't completely distract her from the entire iceberg of dilemmas sitting underneath it, but it helped her from going any deeper. Marinette needed to do everything in her immediate power to stay on the surface, because if she let herself go under again, she didn't think she would've been capable of pulling herself out a second time.)

The weary girl was revived from her thoughts by Tikki's voice. "I-I think I recognize this place. There should be a hospital around here. I don't think it's very far—"

"No," Marinette quickly cut in. Her throat burned and her voice was raspy. "No one can know where I am."

"I'm sure if you asked them to treat you secretly—"

"We can't trust them." Marinette's arm shifted on her torso, and she stifled a scream. She still hadn't gathered the courage to look at the burns that resided beneath her shirt.

Tikki paced anxiously midair. She tugged on her antenna before she turned back to Marinette, eyes bright with a new idea. "What about Master Fu? It's perfect! He's a healer, and he already knows your identi—"

"No," she snapped, ignoring the pain in her throat. "I can't go! Don't you understand?"

Tikki flinched, but she didn't cower back. She stayed in place for a moment before she slowly lowered herself down towards Marinette's face. "Understand what?"

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair, trying to control her breathing. She swallowed thickly. "I can't go back. Ever."

"Of course you can," Tikki assured gently. "What makes you think—"

"They know, Tikki," she said desperately. "They all know. My parents, Alya, Adrien, the whole school—and Chat . . ." Marinette sagged against the wall. "I . . . Oh, they must be so angry."

"They must be so scared," corrected Tikki. "No one could ever be angry at you, Marinette. It's not possible."

Marinette didn't seem to hear her. "They were never supposed to know. I never wanted to hurt them. But now they know what a big fraud I am." She tugged on her hair. "They'll never trust me again. They hate me. I can't go back."

Tikki was aghast. "No, no, they would never hate you—!"

Marinette didn't seem to hear her. "They won't want to see me," she said vacantly. "They'll be so disappointed. Disgusted."

"It's just a mask, Marinette!" the kwami insisted, her voice growing more and more desperate. "Ladybug is you! Everything she does, everything she is—it's all you."

"It doesn't matter. Don't you understand?" Marinette felt an obscene weight of exhaustion lower over herself. "They don't want her to be me."

"What on Earth—"

"Ladybug is everything!" she cried, unable to contain herself. She clenched her eyes shut. "She's courageous and intelligent and ethereal, and look at me!" Marinette opened her eyes, landing on the large patch of blood on her once white shirt. "I . . . I'm . . . nothing."

Tikki floated there, her body stiff and still. For the first time, she was completely speechless.

Marinette closed her eyes again, trying and failing to slow down her breathing. She dug her fingers into her skull, ignoring the pain. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I can't do this anymore."

Tikki was shaking. "S-stop. Stop—"

"Don't you understand? Don't you—" Marinette swallowed her tears. She couldn't let herself cry. "Just let me go."

"Marinette—"

"Please," she begged. She looked up and met Tikki's horrified expression. "I need you to understand."

Tikki violently shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "No! No! You need to understand! You are my Ladybug! No one else! Only you can do this."

With a deep breath, Marinette braced herself against the wall, and she slowly hauled herself to her feet. Her legs shook, and most of her weight was being supported by the wall, but she managed to turn around and face Tikki with a stony face that broke the kwami's heart in two. She lowered her head. "I'm sorry."

Tears fell down her face. "N—no."

"I'm sorry."

"Wh—Stop!"

"Please forgive me."

"Marinette—"

...

"Spots on."

...

...

Ladybug couldn't go inside the apartment building. Even though it was late at night, there was still a risk someone would see her, and that one person could be all it took was for her to get tracked down. So, rather than going through the building itself, Ladybug landed on the sidewalk and used the fire escape to ascend up the side of the structure, until she was on the same level as Alya's apartment.

The heroine exhaled and sat down to catch her breath. It had taken her nearly three hours to get here, even with her enhanced speed and endurance. She'd had to push herself to move quickly on the way here, and had to stop several times to let herself rest. She also had to make a quick detour to her house, where she snuck into her room via her balcony and retrieved a few things. One of those things being the small box in her hands.

She shakily placed the box inside her bag and stood up. There was one last thing Ladybug had to do for Paris before she left.

Tossing her yo-yo in the air, her throat closing up, she called out, "Miraculous Ladybug!"

Ladybug watched as the pink ladybugs lit up the sky and cast themselves across the city, repairing what had been damaged for far too long. However, Ladybug still felt the same. She'd been expecting it, but that didn't stop the pang in her chest.

This was it. This was the end. Ladybug had done her best, but it would never be enough. After everything she had accomplished, she still stood here, quitting. She . . . she was a failure.

But that was fine. It was better this way. It should have been Alya from the beginning—Alya was so strong and smart and so deserving. This was her correcting a mistake, not making one.

Ladybug pulled out the first earring, and that was all it took for the suit to be ripped off of her. With shaking fingers, Marinette quickly removed the second earring before picking up the box. She could feel Tikki's ghost hovering behind her, breathing down her neck, radiating with disapproval and heartache, but she shut the lid before she could let it change her mind.

Marinette reached over the railing, placed the miraculous on the windowsill, and let her arm fall limply to her side. She stood there staring for seconds, minutes, hours, years, before she forced herself to tear her eyes away. Then, she began her descent down the fire escape, ignoring the pain in her heart that begged her to return.

When she reached the last step, the begging finally died away, and she was finally free. But instead of feeling free, she felt hollow. Empty. Incomplete.

She stepped forward.

Her footsteps were off kilter. Her breathing was ragged, her body numb and tired. She could feel the timer ticking on her consciousness, every tick in sync with each step across the street.

With one last step, she slipped out of sight, and disappeared into the shadows.

...

. . .

Present

. . .

". . . I was forced back into the earrings after she resigned," Tikki explained dolefully, after summarizing what happened in the alley, "so I don't know what happened afterwards. She must've gone back to her house to get the box, and then . . . left me with you."

"Why would she do that?" Alya whispered, her voice choked. She nor Nino had spoken the entire time, too busy processing the meaning of Tikki's words to interrupt for questions or clarification. Now, her own voice sounded foreign to her ears.

Tikki's shoulders slumped. "Back when Marinette first got the miraculous, she sincerely thought she wasn't meant to be a hero. When she failed to purify Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, it cemented everything she believed, and she thought she was foolish to even try." Her expression turned more sour as she reminisced further. "Marinette gave up the miraculous then, too, and passed it to someone she believed was more deserving of it." Tikki looked directly at Alya. "She gave it to you."

"What?" she spluttered. "She—she never did that! This is the first time I've ever—"

"Marinette said she slipped the box into your backpack when you weren't looking," Tikki explained. "But then you ran off without your bag to chase after Stoneheart, so she chased after you, but then you got trapped by a car, and Chat couldn't do anything because he was trapped in the akuma's clutches, and—well," Tikki shrugged, a sort of melancholy smile on her lips, "morally speaking, she didn't have much of a choice."

Alya could only stare at her incredulously. "But—why me? Why would she—she barely even knew me! We only knew each other for, like, a day. She couldn't have seriously trusted me more than herself."

Nino bit his lip. Tikki shifted uncomfortably. They had mirrored expressions.

Alya got a sick feeling. "What is it?" she asked nervously.

Nino cleared his throat. His posture was tense, and he clearly struggled to find the right way to phrase his explanation. ". . . Marinette . . . was . . . she was a lot different, before you came here."

She frowned at him. "What do you mean? Different how?"

"Quieter. Shier. Taciturn. Unconfident." He listed them hesitantly, pausing between each word. "She never made an effort to branch out or . . . stand up for herself. She was still friendly, and thoughtful, and she would always humor people when they tried to talk to her, but it was kind of like . . . she had her own little 'Marinette' world that nobody else was allowed to enter. To some people it came off as kind of stuck-up, but I know she never intended for it to be like that. It was more like she was trying to guard herself."

Alya was silent. "Why would she . . . try to guard herself?"

Nino shrugged. "Introversion, I guess. It's not really something that can be explained. You're just . . . happy to be alone? Or you don't mind dealing with it." His voice dropped, and Alya was getting the feeling that he wasn't just referring to Marinette anymore. "Sometimes it's easier when you only have to look after yourself."

Alya knew she was the living definition of an extrovert. That was the main reason she didn't have many friends until she came to Dupont—her boldness had been strong enough to scare off any and all potential companions. But just because she was bold didn't mean she couldn't understand a person wanting to keep to oneself. She'd seen those characteristics of shyness and doubt arise in Marinette before—especially when it came to Adrien—but between her battles against Chloé, her long, overexaggerating rants, and her general leadership role in the class, somehow the words 'Marinette' and 'introvert' never crossed Alya's mind side by side.

"But, something changed," Nino continued. "I don't know what caused it. It was probably a mixture of things, between Ladybug, and Adrien, and you," he smiled, "but, she started standing up for herself, and for others. She became opinionated and proud, while still preserving her kindness. She became . . . well, she became the Marinette you know now." His eyes seemed to brighten. "She started this chain reaction. When she changed, everyone changed. Now our classmates are happier and more confident in themselves. She's just . . ."

"Inspiring," Alya whispered.

The brightness snuffed. "Yeah."

"Marinette has really grown," Tikki noted, finally speaking up. "But that doesn't mean she doesn't still have moments of discouragement. She's just gotten better at containing them."

"What do you mean?" Alya asked.

Tikki looked uncomfortable. "She's so optimistic. She never lets her negative thoughts control her. But, now . . ."

Alya's eyes widened with realization. "She's vulnerable to an akuma."

"And Hawk Moth knows who she is," Nino drawled quietly, "so he's already searching for her anyway." He sagged against the counter. "Oh, shit."

"Wh-what do we do?" Alya looked to Tikki desperately. "Tikki, what—"

Tikki paced back and forth midair, contemplating their next course of action. Suddenly, she stopped and turned to them, and Alya could practically see the light bulb buzzing over her head. "We need to find Chat Noir."

Alya's face lit up. Her heart grew heavy with something that felt awfully close to hope. "That's perfect! He's her best friend. I mean, after me." She shook her head. "The point is, he cares about her. Also, he has superpowers. That's probably helpful."

"Probably," Nino mocked.

Alya hauled herself to her feet, Nino one beat behind her. They looked down at Tikki. "Let's go right now. What's his address?" Alya asked.

Tikki bit her lip.

Her face slowly fell. ". . . Tikki?"

". . . I don't know who he is, Alya."

The words hit Alya like a punch in the gut. She grasped the counter to steady herself. Her burst of energy died out as soon as it had come.

"They don't know each other's identities?" Nino asked incredulously. "How did they—"

"They trust each other as much as the city trusts them," Tikki declared. "It's too dangerous for anyone to know their identities, even each other."

"So this is news to him, too?" Alya asked. "He didn't know?"

"No, he didn't."

Nino leaned against the counter beside Alya. "So now what?"

Tikki was silent for a moment, contemplating. Finally, she offered, "You can leave him a message on the Ladyblog. It's bound to get back to him. Keep it short, but urgent. Only say as much as necessary."

Alya took a deep breath before standing up straight. She walked around the counter, and started her way towards her room, motioning for them to follow. "Tell me what to write."

...

Chat Noir,

We have some very important information regarding the whereabouts of Ladybug.

If you wish to hear it, meet us in front of Collège Françoise Dupont at 15:00.

Please come.

—Alya

...

...

and then everything got so, so much worse.