Under Oath | Ladynoir ✓

19 | apartimenter

THE STUDENT COUNCIL MEETING ENDED just as a bout of rain stopped.

Alya and Marinette skipped down the front stairs of Francois Dupont. Aside from other students doing extracurricular activities, the school was empty. The student council meeting had been draining and ‌ unproductive—Principal Damocles had again commandeered the discussion—so Alya needed caffeine if she was to have any hope of doing homework tonight.

A notification chimed on Marinette's phone, and she checked her screen while walking. That she halted and turned her torso towards the nearest stone wall told Alya that the notification was superhero-related. There was no need to hide civilian messages.

"Clever, clever kitty."

"Pardon?"

"Look what Chat Noir found," she whispered, beckoning Alya to glance at the obscured phone. She pressed her side into Marinette's, effectively surrounding the screen within two bodies and a wall.

Chat Noir: 5J/38 Rue de la Moyenne Ronde. Nathalie's hideout.

"Oh, my God," Alya gasped, gleeful. "Why has he not been working recon all this time?"

Marinette stiffened and Alya sheepishly touched her fingers to her mouth.

How could she forget the two months that nearly sent Marinette off the rails? Scratch that, she did go off the rails, just a tad. Pinned photographs and post-its connected with red strings on her pull-down screen, anxious brain tangents and never-ending paranoia.

"Stupid question," Alya chuckled tightly, too high-pitched. "Ignore me."

Thankfully, Marinette was too excited by the recent development to be dragged down by painful memories.

"This is fantastic. I'll check it out ASAP," she whispered, slipping her phone back into the purse at her hip. "If we find the Peacock Miraculous there, tha‌t proves Nathalie's guilt and absolves Adrien."

Though the wind was cold and biting, forcing Alya to wind her scarf over her mouth and nose, the rain stayed away. Water dripped from awnings and street lamps as they walked to their favourite café. The bistro tables that usually sat outside had been in storage for weeks now, making rare appearances on sunny-enough days. The waitress at the register knew their orders by memory, and ten minutes later, they were walking out.

Alya cast her eyes around the quiet streets. Most people were rightly staying inside, the working day nearly over. It was okay to talk.

"Is it still weird being around Adrien?" she wondered, pressed both palms into the burning sides of the takeaway cup. "In those interviews?" Yesterday was their seventh, marking seven weeks of mental fracturing on Marinette's part. Of all the people fifteen-year-old Alya would have picked to be a good liar, Marinette was one of the last. She was too good a person to lie.

But lying wasn't about morality, Alya had since realised. It was about conviction. Marinette knew her purpose as deeply as her own name. Her convictions ran deep.

"Not as much as the beginning. I couldn't figure out how to switch off my Marinette-brain and switch on my Ladybug-brain. But now that we've met so many times, I know how to fumble through without making an idiot of myself." Marinette heaved a soft, self-deprecating laugh onto herself, shoulders rising, and took a sip of her latte.

"And, after this, you'll just switch your Marinette-brain back on?" Alya questioned.

"Yes. No. I mean, not immediately."

"Mm."

Marinette hadn't been able to switch her Ladybug-brain off while her partner was gone.

Chat Noir's absence had left Alya with painful memories, too, but they were of what her best friend went through. She didn't know Chat Noir well, didn't know about his personal life and civilian commitments—plus he'd generously helped her overcome issues in her relationship—so she would reserve her anger for the circumstances instead of the individual.