Alya is resolved to help Marinette.
The situation is serious. Far, far too serious for her to sit back and do nothing. Admittedly, Marinette's bruises are so light that it's probably more of an arm help a bit too hard rather than a blow. But that's already too much. WAY too much. The young blogger barely tolerates the violence, but now, if she were to get her hands on the one hurting her friend, she wouldn't hesitate to return to him one-hundredfold what he had inflicts on her.
Alya is resolved to help Marinette. No matter whether the latter agrees or not.
But alas, that's much easier said than done.
She ignores up to the lack of a name of this mysterious stranger that has captured the heart of her friend, but without further information, she is stuck. A brief conversation with Marinette's parents confirms that they don't know anything about their daughter's love situation, and she can hardly continue her investigation without attracting their suspicions.
For a moment, she had even considered talking to Tom and Sabine about Marinette and the violence that the latter seemed to be facing.
Alas, she knows her friend only all too well. Marinette is the most adorable girl in the world, but you don't mess with her love life. Alya knows full well that if she decides to let her parents in on the secret, she will immediately incur her wrath.
If she deems it necessary, she will speak to them without the slightest hesitation.
But for now, she thinks she still has time.
Marinette hardly seemed to be in a critical situation and, on the contrary, without those worrying marks dotting her skin, Alya would have even said her friend was more fulfilled than ever. As for her parents, she'll see about them later. Her priority right now is to try to get Marinette out of this toxic relationship that she's in.
"Marinette," she says innocently. "What did you tell me your boyfriend's name is again?"
Quickly, her friend shoots her a look of suspicion.
"I never told you," she eventually replies.
"But whyyyyy," Alya groans. "Marinette, you don't tell me anything about him. You don't show me photos, you won't even give me his age… We are friends, right? Why won't you tell me more about him?"
"I told you," Marinette sighs, clearly deciding to ignore all of her complaints. "It's complicated…"
"Why is it so complicated?" Alya insists, leaning towards her. "Marinette, you know that you can trust me. You can tell me everything, I swear I'll keep to myself."
"I know, I know," Marinette replies with a mechanical shrug of the shoulders, "It's just… Alya, I'm sorry."
Comfortably seated on top of a roof, Ladybug absentmindedly contemplates the city that spans out at her feet.
The sun sets lazily over the capital, the golden reflections giving the buildings on the horizon the appearance of a sparkling crown. A few meters below the girl, the streets are still full of activity. The roar of engines rises in the air and the pedestrians walk the streets in a hurried step, never suspecting for a moment that their heroine is so close to them.
But even if they raised their heads, they wouldn't be able to see her. Ladybug had chosen her perch wisely, opting for a place where she could watch the surroundings, all while staying quietly out of sight.
Ladybug lets out a stifled sigh as she drums her fingers on her legs without thinking. She's tired of lying to Alya. Tired of evading her ceaseless questions, tired of the tension that has reigned between them for some time now. She would love to be able to talk freely about her love life with her, as any other girl would.
But she's not just any girl, and the person she's dating is just as out of the ordinary.
Suddenly, Ladybug picks her head up. She hears something behind her. The light sound of someone landing landing softly on the slate, followed by footsteps slowly approaching her. Then, all of a sudden, a gloved hand appears in her field of vision to gently brush her cheek.
Ladybug couldn't help but smile at the tender contact that she had missed so much during her long day.
"Good evening, my Lady," Chat Noir purrs sweetly.
"Good evening Chat," she replies as she raises her head in his direction.
Chat Noir leans toward her to place a gentle kiss on her lips, then sits himself by her side. With a gesture made fluid by the force of habit, he slides an arms around her waist and pulls her tightly against him. Ladybug rests her head against Chat Noir's shoulder, wriggling a little to better curl up to him, and lets out a small sigh of contentment.
It's already been months since this physical affection became nothing unusual between them, but each time, Ladybug still feels a delicious chill run down her spine. It took some time for her to give her partner a chance, but she doesn't regret it in the least.
Chat Noir is everything she could wish for, and then some.
He's her teammate and her best friend. The one that she can trust absolutely, the one who knows her by heart, even if he doesn't know her name.
The one who makes her laugh. Smile.
The one she could kiss until she's out of breath, and then ask for more.
For better or for worse, this boy has definitely become the center of her world. Little by little, he's slipped into her heart, despite all the fears or reservations she might have had. But Ladybug doesn't doubt for an instant that her relationship with Chat Noir is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to her. He gives her the feeling of belonging to something bigger than herself, of having found her place in the universe.
He makes her happy. Plain and simple.
"Did you have a good day?" Chat Noir asks her, leaning into her to kiss her sweetly on the head.
"Meh," Ladybug replies tiredly.
Chat Noir flinches almost imperceptibly, and immediately, Ladybug feels an extraordinary burst of affection for her partner swelling up inside of her.
Beneath his boastful exterior, this boy is without a doubt the most considerate person. He never fails to notice when she feels low - despite the efforts she sometimes makes to hide it from him, and he never lets her mope around without trying to make her smile again by any means.
Ladybug knows with the deepest certainty that he will always be there for her. To help her, to encourage her, to support her in her moments of weakness.
"But it's much better now that you're here," she resumes with a tender smile.
Chat Noir seems to relax immediately. His expression lights up, and his electric green eyes suddenly seem to sparkle with joy.
"And you?" Ladybug continues.
Chat Noir hesitates for a moment.
"'Meh' too," he finally responds. "But it's much better now that you're here," he concludes with a mischievous wink.
Ladybug lets out a little laugh, and the crystalline sound seems to delight her partner. A big smile on her lips, she turns slightly to face Chat Noir, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him against her to kiss him tenderly.
All of her worries fly away immediately, forgotten for a time.
Ladybug will have plenty of free time to think about her difficulties with Alya later. For now, she enjoys the current moment, savoring Chat Noir's sweet kisses atop the roofs of Paris.
The days pass and Alya desperately tries to learn more about the mysterious boy that Marinette is seeing.
But it's in vain.
To her annoyance, her best friend is as determined to keep her secrets as she is to try to pull them out. Marinette evades the smallest of her questions, pretends not to understand, runs away when her interrogations become too pressing.
And worst of all, Alya unwillingly sees new collections of bruises added to her friend's arms. Each time, she tries to squeeze clear and precise explanations from Marinette about the presence of these bruises. And each time, her friend gives her more and more absurd excuses.
One day, she slipped on a sandwich.
Another, she bumped her arms against a coffee table.
Another still, a sick pigeon had fallen on her. Twice.
It's too much for Alya. Tired of approaching the problem from behind in vain, she decides to directly confront her friend.
"Marinette, is your boyfriend hitting you?" she asks her without any sort of preamble.
Marinette jumps. The surprise on her face could not be more evident, but quickly, it disappears to make way for another expression. Marinette frowns, flushes, then aims her eyes sparkling with anger at Alya.
"What are you talking about?" she growls in a low voice.
"Marinette," Alya levels, softly placing her hand on her arm. "I'm not blind… The boy that you refuse to tell me about, these bruises that you have no explanation for… You may be in love with him, but that doesn't justify in any way if he's-"
"He isn't hitting me!" Marinette exclaims, exasperated.
Alya holds in a deep sigh.
Denial, of course.
She should have expected it, especially since she is her best friend.
Marinette is too stubborn, too charitable, and too optimistic. And worst of all, she has an unfortunate tendency to lose all sense when she's in love.
A dangerous cocktail. Dangerous for her.
Alright. Marinette can hide her face as much as she wishes, she'll have to open her eyes to the situation one day. And to do that, Alya has a plan.
Adrien can't help but admire Alya's tenacity.
Almost every day, he heard her interrogating Marinette about the boy she's seeing. Sometimes, she asks direct questions, clearly demanding his name or his age. Other times, she proves to be more cunning - or more subtle, as she preferred to call it-, trying to extract information from her in a roundabout way, to chance upon it in a conversation that had nothing to do with it.
"Hey, nice color on the history teacher," he hears her say in a tone a bit too enthusiastic to be natural. "I've always loved red hair, don't you, Marinette?"
Adrien doesn't even need to turn around to figure out what's happening behind him. Hearing the silence that Marinette answers with, he has no trouble imagining her shooting a look at her best friend.
"Nice try, Alya," his neighbor behind him finally replies flatly. "I'm not going to tell you if he's red-headed or not."
Throughout the following week, Adrien notices new patterns in Marinette. The latter is no longer chatting face-to-face with her best friend, instead always arranging for a third person to be with them.
This strategy is certainly to avoid having to face new interrogations and innumerable complaints. Marinette probably hopes that Alya will avoid discussing her mysterious boyfriend in front of their other classmates.
But clearly, that is underestimating the young blogger.
One noon, as Nino and Adrien ate lunch in the company of their two friends, Alya turns toward Marinette.
"Listen," she says to her, "I know you don't like to talk about the subject, but I think we need to talk about your boyfriend."
Instantly, Marinette flushes violently. Of embarrassment? Of anger? Adrien cannot say. However, given the incisive look she shoots at Alya, she clearly has no doubt as to what turn the conversation is about to take.
And she obviously does not want it to continue further.
"Well, I don't think there's anything particular to talk about it," she she retorts almost aggressively. "And plus, I'm sure that it would annoy Nino and Adrien," she continued, gesturing to the two boys with a hand motion.
"Not at all," Alya replies before her friends even have the time to open their mouths. "And plus, I've already discussed it with them."
"Alya!" Marinette cries indignantly, blushing even more.
"Marinette," her friend starts calmly, "I know - WE know - that we need to-"
"Alya," Marinette groans, "Now is not the time."
"I know that you refuse to admit it," Alya continues, unperturbed, "but you're in a toxic relationship. You can't let someone hurt you and not-"
Marinette clenches her fists and, instinctively, Adrien recoils slightly. Usually, his classmate is a concentrated shot of cheerfulness and optimism. A girl perpetually smiling, whose joy of living is contagious.
But here, her big azure eyes have taken the look of a stormy sky. They darken, sparkle with rage, threatening to strike Alya down on the spot if she dares say one more word. Jaw tight, chin aggressively raised forward, Marinette seems ready to turn into true fury.
"Alya," she rumbles out in a voice that vibrates with anger, "NOBODY is hurting me. Especially not HIM. This is a misunderstanding."
"So why?" her friend immediately replies. "Why all these bruises?"
"I told you," Marinette sighs. "I'm just…"
"Clumsy?" Alya finished, raising a cautious eyebrow.
"VERY clumsy!" Marinette adds, clearly exasperated by the situation. "Honestly, Alya, have a little trust in me!"
Alya pauses for a moment and then lets out a sigh.
"I would love to," she finally began, a pained expression on her face. "But Marinette… Why don't you ever tell me exactly where all these bruises come from? And why don't you talk to me about your boyfriend if there's nothing weird between you two?"
Obviously running out of arguments, Marinette opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again, and closes it again, without pronouncing a single word.
Adrien remains silent in stupor. He has never seen such an altercation between the two girls, and to be honest, he hardly wants to experience it once. On the other hand, he begins to seriously wonder if it would be better or not for him to intervene immediately to try to calm things down.
In search of an endorsement, he casts a brief glance to Nino and raises a questioning eyebrow at him. A distraught expression is immediately painted on his best friend's features. Clearly understanding Adrien's message, Nino quickly shakes his head from side to side, silently urging him to stay out of this quarrel.
So as Adrien prepares to follow their conversation from the sidelines once again with grimaces and other brow gestures, Alya begins to speak again.
"Marinette," she insists, leaning toward her friend. "You need help…"
"I. Don't. Need. Help," Marinette hisses through her teeth. "And my boyfriend would NEVER hurt me," she continues, her gaze sparkling with anger. "On the contrary! If only you knew, Alya… He's… He's the most kind person. The most courageous, the most extraordinary… He's… I admire him a lot, you know. He's my hero, in some way," she continues with a tender smile. "I'm afraid he'll be hurt one day from wanting to protect me," she adds in a more somber voice. "Well, not like I need the protection! I really don't!" she carries on earnestly. "But he's not hurting me, I swear."
"Marinette," Alya starts again in a worried voice.
"Well, I'm not hungry anymore!" her friend abruptly exclaims, clearly desiring to cut the conversation short.
Marinette gets up quickly and grabs her backpack to swing it over her shoulder.
"I'm going to take this opportunity to finish my math exercises, I didn't have time to finish them yesterday," she continues with a sorry excuse for a smile that convinces nobody. "See you later!"
Gaze fixed on Marinette's empty seat, Alya mechanically turns her pencil in her fingers. The bell announcing the end of classes has just finished ringing in the building and her friend is probably already far away. She had jumped out of her seat like a starting block, and ran the few meters she had to cross to get out of the classroom before Alya had the time to say even a word to her.
In the young blogger's place, anyone else probably would have given up. Especially after the fiasco at lunch.
But Alya is a stubborn person. And very, very, very tenacious.
Marinette may not want to hear the voice of reason, but she refuses to let her be stuck in a potentially dangerous relationship without doing anything. Throughout the afternoon, Alya thought long and hard. About her best friend, about the person she's seeing, about this situation that is much more alarming than Marinette wants to admit.
She has to open her friend's eyes. To make her understand that it's crucial she break up with this boy before things take a dramatic turn. For that, she has a plan, again. But this time, she absolutely needs some outside help.
"Hey," she suddenly says to her two neighbors in front of her. "Do you have a few free minutes? I need your help for something."