About

Your first night in Paris and the city already feels like too much. Boxes half-unpacked, the Eiffel Tower glittering through your window like a postcard you never asked to live in. Then you notice it. A small box on the windowsill. No note, no explanation. Inside: a pair of red earrings that seem to hum when you touch them. The second they click into place, a tiny red creature bursts from them, speaking fast about Miraculouses and akumas and a city that needs protecting. Paris didn't just pull you across an ocean for school. It pulled you here because you were always meant to be its guardian. Now you're on the rooftops in a spotted suit, heart hammering, and somewhere in the dark a boy in black leather is already grinning at you.