Prison Yard

Chapter thirteen - The Aftermath

Three years had passed since Marinette's suicide. 1,224 days to be exact, Alya had kept count. The last few years had gone in a blur. Everything Adrien had said the day of Marinette's death had come true. Marinette's parents ended up moving to Canada and they hadn't heard much from them since. Nino bottled up his pain and tried to keep it together but he eventually broke. He turned to alcohol for support. He had been sober for almost two years now but he had been a mess in the beginning. Adrien did his best to pry him away from his habits but he was dealing with his own grief and could only do so much.

Adrien and Nino were still friends but Alya had done exactly what Adrien had predicted she would have. She forced her family and friends away. She broke things off with Nino after a month of him coming home slobbering drunk. The break up only made Nino's habits worsen. It took some convincing but Adrien got Nino into rehab. Adrien stuck by Nino through the occasional relapse but eventually Nino came to terms with Marinette's death, and so did Adrien.

Adrien struggled for some time with the loss of his partner but he went though the five stages and eventually accepted that Marinette wasn't going to come home. He still thought about her a lot, but life goes on. Alya, on the other hand, never accepted the death of her best friend.

She obsessed over it day and night. She kept count of the days that had passed since her death. She had collected police reports and forensic studies trying to find some loophole where Marinette wasn't dead. She had also found pictures of what appears to be Ladybug in different locations around the world over the past three years. But every photograph was a blur of red. There was no proof that it was her. But Alya had convinced herself that Marinette was still alive, somewhere. Small sightings of a woman in red would send Alya into a panic, hoping, praying that it was her friend, but the thread of clues would always end with questions unanswered. Alya was the only person who cared if Marinette was alive.

The world saw her as a threat and her death was seen as good news to them. Ladybug had been removed from Paris's history as a hero and had been written in as a killer. Cat Noir was still around though. He had defeated Hawkmoth some time ago. Gabriel had been imprisoned and most of the Agreste fortune had gone to fixing the damage his akumas caused over the years. Without Ladybug but to fix everything, Paris was a mess. Repairs are still being made to this day, and the whereabouts of the Ladybug Miraculous were unknown.

Over the years Alya had managed to get a hold of most of Marinette's belongings as well as the jacket she had died in. Adrien had given it to her. It still had blood stains etched into the fabric. Inside the left hand pocket was a note that Adrien was supposed to deliver to Cat Noir. Adrien swore that he had given it to him and that Car Noir had handed it back to him after he had read it, then left. The note was brief and sloppily written. Not like Marinette's usual neat handwriting. Alya suspected that her hands were shaking while writing. It killed Alya to think about how afraid Marinette must have felt and how alone she was.

Alya had read the note countless times. But today was different. Alya sat in her black leather chair, wrapping Adrien's blood stained jacket around her. Boxes of old newspapers and articles about Marinette's suicide surrounded her. The walls of her studio apartment were covered in pictures, documents, and files. Alya's unhealthy obsession with Marinette's death cost her her job as a reporter. She relied on her siblings for rent and food. But just because she lost her job didn't mean she lost her skill. Over time Alya started to come to terms with her friend being gone but she would never be alright with Marinette being called a murderer. She had investigated every inch of 10th street but nothing helped her in her fight to prove Marinette innocents. She had lost all hope of Marinette being alive and just wanted to see her friend's name clear, then she finally sleep knowing Marinette didn't die in vain. After three years of searching she had still found nothing.

Alya pulled her knees to her chest and pulled the note out of the jacket's pocket. The edges of the paper where wrinkled form age and the ink was starting to fade. The way the note was written indicated that she was in a rush, her grammar and unkempt writing all showed she was in a hurry. Alya gently unfolded the small paper and read it line for line.

"Dear Cat, I'm sorry. I really am. You are the new guardian of the miracle box. I have left it at our meeting stop, you know the place. I don't want you using the wish to bring me back so I have hidden the ladybug miraculous away until someone more worthy than I can wield it. Until then chaton, you have to fight akumas alone. I'm sorry, I love you. Goodbye."

Alya had read over those words so many times, wondering what would have been if she could have just spoken to Marinette one last time. Alya remembered crying when Marinette was arrested and nearly passing out when she saw Lila on her computer screen, telling the world that her best friend was Ladybug. Alya had been kicking herself for years over that. How could she not see it. Marinette was the perfect Ladybug, how could she be so naïve.

Alya was dreading the thought of going outside. She had spent the last few weeks, curled up alone in her mess of papers and what remained of Marinette's things. But she needed to get some food and stop starving herself. Her stomach was eating away at itself. She was basically a walking corpse. She hadn't slept in days and ate little. Her skin was dry and her hair thin. The light in her eyes had been snuffed out. She was a broken version of herself.

She picked herself up from her chair, showered, and put on some clean clothes. She tossed the coat and the small letter on a stack of files and papers and left her apartment. Not knowing what was waiting for her when she came back.

When Alya returned she noticed the door was slightly ajar. She remembered locking as she left. She slowly creeped near the door and listened patiently. Alya heard paper rustling and footsteps walk across the floor boards. Her heartbeat quickened. In one swift motion she flung the door open.

Alya was greeted with a warm smile. "Hello Alya." 

 "Mari?"

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Word count: 1164 (Not counting this)