Work Text:
Up until about three minutes ago, Alya Cesaire was having an ordinary day.
She had just arrived home from the standard akuma (this one had something to do with how no one knew how to read analog clocks anymore- seriously?) and had gotten some great footage for the Ladyblog.
Of course, it helped when your best friend was secretly Ladybug, the superhero responsible for saving Paris daily. Alya still couldn’t believe that her bestie, out of all people, had managed to keep it a secret for so long. All this time, the superhero Alya had idolized was right underneath her nose, and she had no idea.
It brought up some interesting questions, including Lila claiming to know Ladybug so well when Marinette despised her with a burning passion…
But she would get to that later. Right now, she had some posting to do.
Alya uploaded her latest video to the Ladyblog, the views and comments coming in almost immediately as people speculated on the latest battle. She smiled fondly, reading through a few. They seemed to mainly be some of the standard fare, the wow, Ladybug is so awesome and wish I had a miraculous comments pouring in.
Alya laughed and shook her head. If only they knew. Marinette handled it well, but Alya had a first-hand view of everything that went down, and it was a lot of work. She doubted people realized just how much was happening behind the scenes.
Alya was about to close out of the Ladyblog- much as she loved reading the comments, she did have homework to do- when a comment caught her eye. Alya paused, then re-read it.
It was short, only two sentences, posted by a guest user. Why doesn’t Ladybug just follow back the akuma to where it came from? Seems like it could have saved her a lot of work.
Alya frowned. That… was a good point, actually. As far as she knew, Marinette hadn’t thought of that yet.
And yet, it seemed so simple. Could it really work?
Alya reached for her phone, not taking her eyes off the screen as she typed out a message.
Can you come over? I have something to talk to you about. It’s “Miraculous”, if you know what I mean 😉
Alya sent it, then looked down and immediately wished she hadn’t. She had been so absorbed in the possibilities this new theory presented that she hadn’t bothered to look at who she was texting.
Sent to: Adrien Agreste silently mocked her from the screen as Alya froze in terror, before frantically typing out a “sorry, wrong person”, an excuse, anything.
But before she could tap the send button, three dots briefly appeared before two messages popped up in quick succession.
Uhh, okay, didn't know you knew?
Coming now! 😸
Alya blinked. That… wasn’t what she was expecting. She debated still sending the message, then erased it. Something here was off.
Before she could think on it too deeply, her doorbell rang. Alya flung it open, revealing…
A guilty Adrien, staring at her with trepidation.
“Hey Alya,” he said, running a hand through his hair as he looked away sheepishly. “So… how long have you known that I’m Chat Noir?”
Alya’s brain exploded.