The scent of fresh bread drifted through the early Paris morning as Kai Nakamura stepped off the Metro, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his sketchpad held tightly in the other. The sky was painted in hues of pale orange, warming the city's rooftops as Françoise Dupont High School loomed in the distance.
Kai wasn't nervous—at least not outwardly. His posture was relaxed, his face unreadable, his dark hoodie casting shadows over sharp, almond-shaped eyes. But inside? His stomach knotted with the unease of new beginnings.
He had transferred before. Countries, languages, customs—none of it stuck to him. His mother's job as a textiles designer meant constant motion. This time, Paris was supposed to be "home" for longer than a year. That's what she said.
And for the first time, Kai kind of wanted it to be true.
His fingers idly traced a sketch on the paper pad—a stylized bird engulfed in swirling flames. It was something he'd been drawing since he was little. Always that same bird. A phoenix. He never knew why.
As he turned a corner near a quiet alleyway, a flash of motion caught his eye. A man—old, hunched, cloaked in a brown coat—was struggling with a group of teenagers surrounding him, shouting about "a dumb antique" and "easy money."
Kai's brow furrowed.
He sighed, muttering, "Why does this always happen to me?"
Without hesitation, he stepped in.
"Back off," Kai said, stepping between the man and the group. "Find a more original hobby."
One of the teens—clearly the leader—snorted. "Who are you supposed to be? The 'Hoodie Avenger'?"
Kai didn't answer. He simply stared, calm and quiet. The leader's smirk faltered. Kai had learned long ago how to make people uncomfortable just by existing.
A minute later, the group scattered with muttered curses, leaving Kai alone with the old man.
"You alright?" Kai asked, offering a hand.
The man looked up, his green eyes sharp despite his age. "Yes. Thanks to you, young man. That was very brave."
Kai shrugged. "Didn't want to get stabbed in the news first week of school."
The man chuckled. "Still. Most would have walked away."
He reached into his coat and handed Kai a curious wooden box. It was small, carved with swirling symbols that seemed to shimmer in the morning light.
"This is yours," he said.
Kai blinked. "Wait. What?"
"I've been looking for someone. You may be him."
Kai hesitated. "Look, I don't really—"
But when his fingers touched the box, warmth flooded his hand. His sketchpad fluttered in the breeze, a faint shimmer of golden light flickering over the pages. The firebird he had drawn for years began to glow faintly.
The man smiled. "Come find me when it calls to you."
And before Kai could ask anything more, the man was gone. Just like that. As if he'd vanished into the alley's walls.
"...Seriously?"
Kai looked down at the box again. It was warm, like it had been sitting in sunlight for hours. A faint chirping came from inside.
He opened it.
Inside was a glowing red-orange jewel, shaped like a phoenix feather. And floating above it—
"Whoa."
A small creature, no bigger than his palm, hovered with flickering wings of fire. Its body glowed like smoldering embers, with a mischievous, yet noble aura.
"Hello!" the creature chirped, its voice a fiery soprano. "I'm Fiero, the Kwami of Rebirth!"
Kai dropped the box.
"Holy—what are you?!"
Fiero caught himself mid-air, snickering. "Well, that's a rude way to treat someone who lives in a flaming jewelry box."
Kai stared, stunned. The creature floated closer.
"You've been chosen by the Phoenix Miraculous. That means you get to be a superhero."
Kai blinked again.
"...Yeah, no," he muttered, turning around. "I don't do superhero stuff."
Fiero zipped in front of him. "You already did, back in the alley. You stood up, even though it wasn't your fight."
"That was just instinct."
"Exactly. Instinct says a lot. Besides, the Miraculous doesn't choose wrong."
Kai looked away. He didn't want this. He just wanted to go to school, sketch in peace, maybe make one friend who didn't ask him a thousand questions about where he came from.
And yet...
That strange warmth in his chest hadn't faded. And the phoenix jewel pulsed gently in his hand like a second heartbeat.
Fiero looked into his eyes, serious now.
"Paris is going to need you. So will someone else."
"Someone else?"
"You'll see."
Kai didn't respond. But he didn't throw the box away either.
He stuffed it into his backpack, zipped it shut, and started walking toward the school gates.
He didn't see the figure standing on the rooftop above—a young girl with blue-black hair tied in twin tails, watching him with quiet curiosity. Marinette had sensed the flicker of magic earlier. Now, she felt something else:
A new light had arrived in Paris.
And change was coming with it.