A relatively quiet week passed—school, the bakery, his French slowly improving at a steady pace, and a watch that pulsed with its faint light every night without any noticeable development.
Things were peaceful.
Except for Alya.
Leo noticed it on Tuesday—the way Alya looked at him during class was slightly different.
It lasted longer than mere curiosity, closer to an evaluation.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he finally asked during lunch break as he sat across from her.
Alya pulled out her phone and placed it on the table with deliberate dramatic flair.
The screen displayed notes organized under headings and dates.
“What is that?” Leo asked with genuine curiosity, leaning forward to look.
“A file.” she said proudly.
“Your file.”
Leo stared at the screen.
“My file.” he repeated.
“You have a file on me.”
“Of course I have a file on you!
You’re the most mysterious person I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some seriously strange people in this city.
Trust me.”
Alya read from her notes in the voice of a professional journalist:
“One: You appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the school year, with no clear previous school records.
Two: You live with the Dupain-Cheng family despite having no known relation to them.
Three: You speak French with an accent I can’t identify, even though I’ve tried, and trust me, I’m pretty good at this.
Four—”
“Does this go on for much longer?” Lio interrupted with an amused smile.
“About fifteen points.”
“Great.” he said sincerely.
“I’m more interesting than I thought.” Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Alya looked at him in confusion.
“Most people get annoyed when I do this.”
“I’m not most people.” he said with a wide smile.
“I’m actually impressed.
This is some good investigative work.
If you keep this up, you’ll be a terrifying journalist when you grow up.”
Alya paused, unsure how to respond to genuine admiration instead of the defensive reaction she usually received.
“…Thank you?” she finally said cautiously.
Marinette sat down beside them at that moment, her immediate tension obvious as soon as she saw the phone on the table.
“What’s that?” she asked, slightly louder than she intended.
“Alya’s file on me.” Leo said calmly, clearly enjoying himself.
“Fifteen suspicious points.”
“Alya!” Marinette scolded, half-seriously.
“You can’t investigate your friends!”
“I absolutely can.” Alya said confidently, “Especially when said friend is this suspicious.”
“I’m not suspicious.” Leo said.
“I’m interesting.
There’s a subtle but important difference.”
“The difference doesn’t exist as far as I’m concerned.” Alya said as she quickly wrote down another note.
Lio looked at the phone again, then at Alya.
A small idea began forming in his mind.
“Deal.” he finally said.
Alya looked at him curiously.
“What kind of deal?”
“I’ll give you one small fact about me every week.” Leo said with mock seriousness.
He had thought about it carefully; a real fact, but one that wouldn’t be enough to solve the mystery completely.
That way, she’d stay occupied without getting anything dangerous.
Alya considered the offer with clear seriousness.
“I’m a very fair person.”
“What’s this week’s fact?”
Leo looked around theatrically, as though making sure no one was listening.
“I don’t like tomatoes.” he finally said with complete seriousness.
Silence.
“That—that’s not a mystery, Leo.”
“I never said it was a mystery.
You asked for a fact.
And that’s one hundred percent true.”
Marinette looked at him and burst into laughter she couldn’t hold back.
Alya looked between the two of them, frustrated but laughing despite herself.
“I’ll get something better next week.” she finally said, closing her phone decisively.
“Maybe.” Leo replied with a mysterious smile.
“Maybe not.”
After school—while they were walking back toward the bakery—Marinette turned to Lio with a new look of curiosity.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“I mean the agreement with Alia?”
Leo thought for a moment, his answer quieter than his usual jokes.
“Because curious people like Alya don’t stop searching.” he said.
“It’s better to give her a little on my terms than let her find out too much on hers.”
Marinette looked at him with a new appreciation for this side of his thinking.
“That’s…
actually pretty smart planning.”
“I told you.” he said, his usual playful smile returning.
“I’m a genius.”
Marinette nudged him with her elbow as she laughed, and they continued toward the bakery, the golden glow in Lio’s pocket pulsing quietly as usual, unaware that it had become the subject of a small school investigation that was beginning to get a little too close.
End of Chapter Twenty-One