The sun had just risen over Paris and Marinette is tired.
Tired of having to ceaselessly justify herself to Alya. Tired of lying to her. Tired of hiding this love life from her that she wished she could talk to her about. Tired of having to reschedule her meetings with Chat Noir out of fear being caught by her best friend - Alya had already tried to follow her, she knows this. Her friend thinks she's being discreet, but for the young heroine, checking her surroundings in search of any unwanted witnesses is second-nature. Alya did her best, but Marinette never had trouble spotting her.
But most of all, Marinette is tired of this almost omnipresent tension that had between Alya and her.
Three days earlier, the altercation that they had that noon had inflicted another blow to her morale that was already well worn by the weeks of discord and misunderstandings. Since then, Marinette couldn't help but to feel a certain apprehension each time she spoke to Alya. Not knowing if their conversations would turn into a storm. No longer able to spend a moment in the company of her best friend without her guard being constantly gnawed at.
If she were to listen to herself, Marinette would have transformed to skip class.
Just for today. Just to breathe a little.
But alas for her, she is a serious student, coupled with a heroine who already accumulates far too many hours of absence to allow herself to add more without a viable reason. Her parents have already punished her enough times for not being where she should be, when she should be, and she does not want to incur more problems.
Heart heavy, Marinette prepares to leave for class.
On her journey, her thoughts wander. She dreams of seeing Chat Noir. To curl up in his arms and forget all these worries, to listen to his absurd puns that amuse her more than she wants to let on. To be with him, plain and simply.
She misses him.
She sees him near every day, and yet, she misses him in a way almost physical.
Marinette wants to feel the warmth of his hand in hers, to hear his laughter, to marvel at the way his eyes shine when he looks at her. She wants movie dates, picnics in the park, reunions with him right after school, romantic walks along the Seine.
She wants a normal emotional life.
Everything that a teenager like her should be able to experience.
Everything that the two superheroes can't have.
Perhaps it would be time for Marinette to stop running. To finally make the decision to entrust her true identity to her partner, and let him reveal his own.
She's just… scared.
Not of the reaction Chat Noir might have at discovering who she is, no. Their relationship is now far too strong, far too deep for that topic to be her main concern.
No. She's scared for Chat Noir.
Scared of the way his behavior might change if they crossed this crucial line in their relationship. Scared to find out just how far he would be willing to go for her.
Because Marinette knows her partner far too well. She knows too well to what point he never hesitates to put himself in danger to help her, and how much he prioritizes the safety of his partner above all else. As soon as Ladybug is threatened, Chat Noir never hesitates to put himself on the front line. To take hits in her place, to even risk his own life if he deems it necessary.
All that when he doesn't even know who she really is.
To share their identities, it wouldn't just be putting a name and a face to the person behind the mask. It would mean uncovering entire parts of their lives that they had hidden until then. Discovering family. Friends. Hopes, dreams, doubts. Thousands of little everyday things that would bring them together more than ever and make their story all the more concrete. More real.
More precious.
Marinette wants to share her identity with Chat Noir. But she's terrified at the idea that he'll take twice as much risk once he knows who she really is, wanting to protect both the heroine and the girl behind the mask.
If something ever happened to him because of her, she would never get over it, that was certain.
She loves him.
She may have taken her time to realize that, but she loves him. With all of her heart, with all of her soul.
Marinette is scared, but she doesn't want to have to choose between her duties and her friends. She wouldn't stop being Ladybug, but if she knew who Chat Noir was, she could talk freely about him with Alya. Better still, she would have the opportunity to introduce them to one another. Let them talk together, give them the chance to get to know each other.
And then Alya would finally understand that her partner is incapable of doing the least bit of harm to her.
Lost in her thoughts, Marinette hardly notices that she's now standing in front of her classroom door. It's not until Rose greets her cheerfully when she arrives that she abruptly comes back into contact with reality. She jumps, shakes her head to clear her mind, smiles at her friend, and enters the room.
Once at her desk, Marinette lets out a small sigh. She has no idea what Alya has in store for her but she hopes with all her heart that for once, her day will be peaceful.
Marinette's day is strange. Definitely strange. And paradoxically, it begins in a relatively normal manner.
To Marinette's great relief, Alya doesn't seem to be in the mood to start up with the endless reproaches that she typically makes regarding her mysterious love life. On the contrary, she chats as if nothing had happened, pleasantly enjoying the last few minutes before the last students settle into their seats.
While Marinette enjoys this more than welcome moment of relaxation, Chloé arrive, Sabrina on her heels. Instead of going directly to her place, the mayor's daughter takes a step in Marinette's direction. She glances at her, a haughty grin on her lips, before letting out a contemptuous sigh.
"I can't even believe you're so stupid," she blurts out suddenly. "Even you deserve better," she concludes before briskly turning on her heels to go sit down.
"Exactly," Sabrina quickly adds.
Without another word, she in turn pivots herself around in a perfect imitation of her best friend, leaving one dumbfounded Marinette in the wake of this unexpected confrontation.
For a few minutes, the girls tries to make sense of the curious attitude of her classmates. And she gives up quickly. Who knows what goes on in Chloé's mind - and who would really like to know? Certainly not her. The petulant daughter of the mayor surely just felt the need to let off some steam after being annoyed by something of critical importance in her eyes. Like a mark on her face or a rebellious lock among the impeccable styling of her hair.
Whatever.
Marinette has other subjects to preoccupy her, starting with her problems with Alya.
When the break bell rang, Marinette rose with a sigh. Alya had been strangely calm throughout the start of the morning, which is far from being a good sign lately. But to the great surprise of the young heroine, her friend doesn't start on one of those long and painful interrogations in which she has secrets. On the contrary, she waves cheerfully before leaving to chat with Nino and Adrien.
Marinette doesn't have time to ask any questions, as Rose and Juleka approach to keep her company. Talking about everything and nothing, the three girls are heading toward the courtyard in unison and settle a little away from their classmates.
At first, Marinette simply enjoys this moment of relaxation spent with her friends. But rapidly, the conversation takes a strange turn. Right in the middle of a passionate discussion of the chances of having a test in history next week, Rose begins to tout about the merits of a healthy relationship. With the silent agreement from Juleka, she insists on the importance of mutual respect between a couple, and is ecstatic about the fact that nothing is more beautiful than two people who love and support each other without the slightest reserve.
Normally, Marinette would not have questioned it. Rose is a steadfast romantic, go on at length about love at the slightest opportunity.
But here, in light of the circumstances and the insistent glances that her friends shoot at her, she starts to seriously wonder if something isn't being plotted behind her back.
The sudden arrival of Kim and Alix barely a minute later only confirms her suspicions.
"Listen, Marinette," Kim starts at her. "If you ever need protection from anything…"
"...or against anyone…" Alix adds.
"...you can count on us," her friend concludes. "I don't like violence, but I'm intimidating enough if you ever want to have someone with you to feel reassured."
"Yes, violence is bad" Alix approves with a vigorous nod. "And I may be less impressive than Kim - PHYSICALLY less impressive," she corrects, catching her classmate's smile, "But regardless, I'm wherever you want, whenever you want, for any challenge you want," she continues at the attention of the young man. "But in short," she starts again, turning back to Marinette. "If you need us to go with you, to play bodyguards… We're here for you."
"Did Alya ask you two to talk to me?" Marinette mutters, shooting a suspicious glance to her friend.
A few meters away, the latter catches her gaze and responds with the most innocent of smiles.
"Alya?" Kim exclaims in a voice that is anything but convincing. "I don't see what Alya has to do with this."
"Yeah," Alix agrees vigorously. "It's just… An initiative. A purely friendly and spontaneous initiative. Nothing to do with Alya."
Before Marinette has the time to say anything, the ringing to announce the end of the break sounded through the courtyard. Giving up on continuing the conversation any further, the girl shrugs and walks away from her friends, grumbling.
As she heads to her classroom, Marinette runs through all of the recent events of the start of her morning. Rose. Juleka. Kim. Alix. Not to mention Chloé and her strange insults. All of this does not bode well.
Marinette sits on her bench, where she's quickly joined by her best friend.
"Alya… I hope that you didn't do what I think you did," she huffs out at her with a creaking voice.
"I don't know at all what you're talking about," her friend replies, acting falsely scandalized. "Oh, look, the teacher is here," she starts, gesturing theatrically to the entrance of the room. "I would love to continue this conversation, but I don't want to be punished. Sorry," she concludes in a voice far too satisfied, before pointedly plunging her nose into her book.
Marinette stifles a frustrated grunt. Whatever twisted plan Alya has clearly decided to carry out, it's hardly likely to please her.
The noon meal arrives and Marinette's suspicions are confirmed. Apparently believing that only strength in numbers would persuade her best friend, Alya has clearly rallied their class in her crusade.
As Marinette ate, wondering with a certain worry if a new strange incident wasn't going to take place, a voice suddenly rose over the hubbub of the crowd. Sitting a few meters from her, Max, who was, until then, in deep conversation with Kim, suddenly rose his tone.
"I don't know if you know," he says to his friend in a concise voice, "But a large percentage of victims of domestic violence are women. It often starts with a simple slap or a small hit somewhere, so people sometimes tend to think it's not that bad," he continues, digging in his pocket to get out a sheet full of numbers and graphs of all kinds, before holding it conspicuously to be in plain view. "But statistically, the chances of the situation becoming serious quickly are…"
Stunned, Marinette stops paying attention to Max's speech to take a frightened look around. But apparently, she is the only one to be surprised by the young man's strange intervention.
Worse still, far from being taken aback by Max's behavior, all of her classmates are watching her out of the corner of their eye. Absolutely all of them.
"I'm not hungry anymore!" she exclaims, rising abruptly from the table and walking away in a fast step.
Once back in her classroom, Marinette falls heavily onto her bench and holds her head in her hands. She would love to find Alya to have her explain her thought process, but her friend has very conveniently been absent since the end of their previous class. Perhaps she went back home to eat, or perhaps she's just nibbling on a sandwich somewhere else in the school.
Whatever the case, she's clearly doing her best to avoid Marinette and all of the questions she could ask her. Like "What just happened exactly?", "Do you plan to leave me alone for one day?" or "Who else is going to ruin my day?", for example.
The minutes roll by and the students begin, little by little, to return to their places.
Passing by Marinette, Nathaniel slows down, blushing lightly and setting a paper on her desk, murmuring a shy "For you". Surprised, the girl lifts her eyes toward her classmate, but she barely has time to open her mouth before he's already moving away. Abandoning to pursue Nathaniel, Marinette shrugs absent-mindedly. She finally lowers her eyes to the paper, to discover a portrait of herself, written on it "Courage, we are all with you."
Marinette barely has time to take in the drawing when Ivan arrives in turn and discreetly slips a business card in front of her. Furrowing her brows slightly, the girl picks up the rectangle of cardstock. She quickly deciphers the few lines written on it and lets out a hiccup of surprise that she can't manage to hold back. Under her dumbfounded gaze are the contact details for a helpline to support victims of violence.
Marinette feels a flash of deceptive warmth rise from within her. She clenches her fists instinctively and has to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from screaming. Because it is no longer a legitimate annoyance that creeps within her, raising her pulse and boiling her blood. No, this is anger. A dull, tenacious fury that needs to be let out. Her classmates' behaviors are clearly out of good intention, but her patience is at its end.
And as if by chance, Alya still isn't back from the noontime break.
The young blogger is almost certainly waiting until the last second to avoid heated explanations and in all honesty, Marinette has to admit that, for once, her friend is showing common sense. She is currently in such a state of anger mixed with shame that she feels about ready to explode in rage.
Alya only reappears with the arrival of their teacher, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. She sits next to Marinette, pretending not to noticed the outraged looks that her friend is throwing at her, the same way she ignores the notes she passes to her throughout the afternoon.
When the bell for the end of classes finally rings, Marinette turns to Alya, dead set on getting a solid explanation from her. But before she has the time to say anything, she is interrupted by an authoritative voice.
"Okay, I ask that you all stay seated in your places for a few moments," their teacher says from his desk. "A few of your classmates have informed me that they would like to make a presentation at the end of class. I don't see any objections, so I give then the floor and I ask that you respect their work and listen carefully to what they have to say to you all. And if any of you think about leaving before they're finished, I will know, do not doubt that," he concludes in a menacing voice. "Nino, Mylène, it's all yours."
True to his words, the teacher moves aside to make room for his two students, before discreetly exiting the classroom. Plagued with a bad feeling, Marinette sees Mylène and Nino exchange a knowing glance, nod quickly, and step forward to face their classmates. Standing in front of the desk. They clear their voices and start talking.
And immediately, Marinette has the impression of falling into a strange dream. Or rather, into an incredible nightmare. Speechless, she sees her friends begin to give a presentation that has clearly taken them hours of work, and on a subject none other than toxic relationships. How to recognize them. How to avoid them. How to get out of them. All that, along with a number of mentions on physical violence within couples and diverse and varied legal advice.
Marinette has the unpleasant feeling of hallucinating, so much that the situation seems unreal.
She doesn't know what's worse.
That Nino and Mylène are clearly addressing her.
That all, absolutely ALL of her classmates have their eyes on her, looking at her sympathetically.
That all, absolutely ALL of her classmates are obviously convinced that the one she loves is beating her.
The simple thought that they could accuse Chat Noir of being capable of such a horror revolts Marinette. If her friends knew, if only they knew to what point her partner never hesitates to put himself in danger for her… How many times he had barely escaped catastrophe to protect her, how much she lives in terror that he takes too many hits…
A deep feeling of injustice mixes with the relentless fury in the heart of the girl, the taste such that it makes her nauseous.
Paralysed by a tempest of emotions whose intensity is increasing by the second, Marinette doesn't even notice when Nino and Mylène finish their presentation. A muffled buzzed resonates in her ears, stifling the outside noise, as her heart is now beating so forcefully that she feels it pulsing in every part of her being.
Marinette has the sudden feeling of her vision being clouded in red. Not the warm red of Ladybug, but the glowing red of a river of lava, announcing the most volcanic of angers.
She is within seconds of cracking.
In a desperate attempt to keep calm, Marinette instinctively grips her desk, closes her eyes with all her might, and takes a deep breath.
Stay calm.
Stay calm.
Stay. Calm.
When she finally opens her eyelids, Marinette catches the cautious look that Adrien gives Alya. But whatever little disagreement silently takes place between her two friends, the battle seems to be quickly won by Alya.
Adrien gives a slight nod, lets out a little sigh, then turns to Marinette and slides a card on her desk.
"Here, if… If you ever need help, here's the number of my father's lawyer," he starts hesitantly. "If you just say you're calling on my behalf and-"
It's too much for Marinette.
The rage and frustration that has accumulated during her long day swirls around her like a flood of rage, taking with it the last of her reserves.
She cracks.