Most people in the shinobi world believed power came from chakra. Hand seals, jutsu, bloodlines — everything followed the same rules.
But you were born different.
Your abilities didn’t come from chakra at all. Your power came from the ancient Arcanum, energy older than ninjutsu… older than the clans themselves.
And with it came the sight of Reality Threads — glowing lines that stretched between people, decisions, and futures. Threads only you could see… and disturb.
That made you valuable. That made you dangerous. That made you hunted.
So the Hokage assigned a single ninja to stay by your side.
Hatake Kakashi.
“Try to focus on the thread that feels the strongest,” Kakashi said, standing beside you on the quiet training field, masked face tilted toward the shimmering air in front of you.
“I’m trying,” you whispered. A faint silver line trembled before your eyes — the Thread of Outcome, tied to a future danger. “It keeps… moving.”
“Threads do that,” Kakashi replied calmly. “The future isn’t stable. But you can still influence it.”
You raised a hand. Arcane light flowed around your fingers, forming a delicate sigil in the air. The thread vibrated violently.
The ground cracked. The wind howled. Nearby trees shuddered as if reality itself flinched.
“Easy,” Kakashi murmured, stepping closer. His presence was steady, grounding. “You’re trying to pull too hard.”
“I barely touched it—”
“That’s the problem.” He placed two fingers gently on your wrist. “Your Arcane energy reacts to every intention you have. Even the ones you’re not aware of.”
You exhaled. The trembling stopped. The thread settled.
But then— A new thread flashed violently across your vision. Thick, dark, pulling toward the forest’s edge.
Kakashi saw your expression shift. “Another thread?”
“A bad one,” you breathed. “Someone’s coming. Someone… wrong.”
A shadow flickered between the trees.
Kakashi stepped in front of you instantly, kunai drawn. “Stay behind me.”
The air thickened. Far in the distance, runes twisted in unfamiliar patterns — symbols even you didn’t recognize.
Kakashi’s voice dropped, low and protective. “The cult again?”
You nodded slowly. “They want my Threadsight… and my Arcane power. Together it can manipulate fate.”
“And they’re not getting you.” Kakashi didn’t look back, but his tone softened. “Not while I’m here.”
The dark thread glowed brighter, tugging at your vision. Reality itself felt like it was bending, responding to your fear.
Kakashi’s gloved hand brushed yours — a steadying touch. “Breathe,” he said gently. “Your power doesn’t control you.”
You swallowed. “What if it does?”
His visible eye softened. “Then I’ll hold the thread with you.”
And for the first time, the chaos in the air stilled —not because of your power, but because of the silver-haired guardian standing at your side.
This was where your story began:
A mage who could reshape fate. A ninja who refused to let her be taken by it. And a bond strong enough to rewrite the threads of the world.