Miraculous; Tales of Grey Wolf

How it all began, I guess.

         Hello. If you're reading this, it probably means that you have found my journal which I store important information, or it fell into enemy hands. Names Yao, Xavier Yao. I am 13 years old, have Japanese heritage, have a younger brother named Lance, a mom with a metal prosthetic arm that looks incredibly life like, and a dao sword for practice. I had recently moved to Paris, France from Houston, Texas, and let's just say I wasn't happy about leaving home.

       First off, I severely struggle with speaking French, I only know English and Japanese. I can somewhat read French, and moving meant leaving my Overwatch bros, (sure, we could still play, but it wasn't going to be the same since I wouldn't see them at school). My dad was going to be nearby since his job moved him to France, but in another city. My mom kept telling me how I might find some people with common interests and that I could finally crush on a nice girl since Paris was "The City of Love", but let's be real. Who finds love that fast? What is this, La La Land? I knew it wouldn't always be Another day of sun!

      Dad's job granted us a pretty nice house, three stories, a balcony on top of the roof, and three separate bedrooms cause my dad would live in a hotel. My brother ran to each room, his eyes practically beaming with excitement. He was 11 and always had a smile on his face. I hope he never changes, cause I can not allow that sweet ray of sunshine to turn into a nightmare.

I walked around my new room, its dark blue walls and dark grey carpet. The entrance reminded me of a disabled trapped door, the way you had to climb up a ladder and lift the top. The movers had got here before us, so I sat on my galaxy themed bed and stared at the long rectangular mirror I had hanging on one of my closet doors.

My black, spiky bangs covered the right side of my face, as if they were the areas where broken mirror shards use to exist. My wine colored eyes stared back at me, a piercing, critical gaze at the moment. I was the only one in my family with different colored eyes, never bothered me though. I came to enjoy it, reminded me of the homunculus Greed. I brought my gaze down to my Stranger Things shirt, wondering what my friends who watched it were doing. Did they miss me? Were they still debating over who would win in a fight, the Demogorgon or the Demodogs. Ahh, I missed listening to that silly debate.

"Xavier! Lunch is ready!" My mom yelled from downstairs.

"Coming!" I yelled back as I slid off my bed, glanced at my drawing book filled with my obsessions, and went down the ladder.

My brother was eating the sandwich my mom had made, his soft brown eyes still full of excitement. I got the plate from my mom and sat next to him.

"Thanks Mom," I said.

"You're welcome Xavier," she responded as she sat down in front of us with her own sandwich.

After praying, I took a bite, enjoying the taste of something not from a restaurant. We've been having fast food for a while when the furniture was put in the moving truck, and I started to somehow resent Whataburger.

"Hey, Xavier," my brother asked as he finished his third bite. "What was your favorite Harry Potter movie again? I keep forgetting."

Swallowing my mouthful, I replied, "The third one. Prisoner of Azkaban was the best!"

"I beg to disagree," my mom piped up. "I think Triwizard Tournament is better."

"Wait what?! Why? Prisoner had a great storyline with excellent plot twists!" I exclaimed.

"Don't forget cringy acting, Triwizard has a multiple of exciting scenes," she added, taking a bite.

"Seeing a sparkly vampire is better than boggarts? No way," I said when an idea came to me. "Lance, which do you prefer? And remember, you can't be biased. Honesty only."

He swallowed another mouthful, then said, "Actually, I like Chamber of Secrets better."

"...You do? What happened to Half-blood Prince?" I questioned my little bro.

"Well, Chamber has a cool bad guy, and I liked Gilderoy Lockheart," He said.

     "Huh, I did not know that," I admitted.

       "Neither did I," Mom said. "Changing the subject, I enrolled you two in Françoise Dupont High School."

     "Woah woah woah, we're middle schoolers. Not high schoolers," I questioned.

    "In French it's called Collège Françoise Dupont, and the word Collège is used for the grades between sixth and ninth," she explained.

     "So it's pretty much extended middle school," I summarized.

     "Yup," she agreed.

     "Can I be homeschooled? I can barely read  French and can't speak it. Tell me to write a book in Japanese and say it out loud fluently and I can, but French? No way," I said, practically begging my mom.

     "Xaive," she said, using my nickname as she always did when she was being sympathetic. "I know you struggle, but it's the closest school and I'm sure you will find a way. You're extremely clever." She reached over the table and took my hand. I didn't pull back. Instead, I gave hers a soft squeeze.

    "You are a Slytherin, and they're known to be cunning," my brother piped up. "And I can help with deciphering homework, I can read French!"

    I smiled at him, "Thanks bro, you're the best."

   "I already have the supplies you two will need...I'm going to miss having you guys at home," she said sadly.

"We'll miss you too," I told her, giving her hand another squeeze. I had been counting down the days till school, we had two more days. Monday was expected to be horrible, but boy, was it a day to remember.