The room was quiet—too quiet. The only sound was the soft rhythm of Michibiki's breathing, slow and steady against Yukio's chest. In the dim light, he could feel her weight resting comfortably on him, her head tucked beneath his chin. Sometime during the night, she had migrated across the bed again, using him as a pillow as if it was her divine right.
Typical.
A blaze of light sliced through the darkness before he could even drift back into a deeper sleep, making Yukio flinch and blink blearily at a rectangular window of blinding white energy hovering inches from his face.
"Aww, what now…"
He mumbled and threw an arm over his eyes.
The shimmering air around the glowing panel showed shifting text.
---
[System Alert]
[System Unlocked: Threads of Fate]
New Path Unlocked - Threads of Fate
Your tie to fortune is strengthened. Destiny itself stirs at your touch.
First Unveiling: Loom's Whisper
You faintly hear the echoes of the Loom of Fate.
Small outcomes can be nudged—a step avoided, a strike landing true, a coin falling in your favor.
One's fate or that of others may be shifted, but never controlled.
Integration with the Wheel of Providence: Sometimes reduces debuff effects or increases buff effects.
Thread Tithe: 50% of the experience earned is claimed to fuel this path.
System Note: Destiny resists force. The more you pull, the more it pulls back.
---
Yukio stared at the screen half-conscious.
"Fifty percent… tithe? Fate manipulation? Yeah, sure, whatever…"
His voice was a low, sleepy mumble.
"I'll deal with it tomorrow."
At that the glowing panel flickered and disappeared. The darkness was warm and quiet once more. Michibiki gave a soft sigh, and burrowed a little closer, arms tightening around his waist like a contented cat.
Yukio's lips arced faintly.
"Can't even stay on your side of the bed,"
He whispered. But instead of moving her away, he instinctively pulled her closer-mostly to keep her from falling off the edge, or so he told himself.
Just before sleep claimed him again, he thought he saw something—thin golden strands, faint as mist, weaving lazily through the shadows above them. They pulsed once, like a heartbeat, and disappeared.
He was too tired to care.
---
Morning came unkindly.
The first rays of the sun spilled into the bed and landed directly on Yukio's face. He groaned and rolled over, trying to get away from the light, only to find that the other half of the bed was empty.
He blinked awake to see Michibiki already up and dressed. Her pristine white robes glowed faintly in the sunlight, while her silver hair shimmered when she bound it behind her back with practiced ease.
"Morning, sunshine,"
She said cheerfully, that teasing lilt already creeping into her tone.
"Slept well? Because I did."
Yukio opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get a single word out-she grabbed his leg and yanked.
Thump.
He hit the wood floor like a sack of potatoes.
"Ow! Okay, okay, I'm up!"
He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.
Michibiki looked down at him, arms crossed and eyes glinting.
"Not fast enough."
Yukio climbed to his feet and stretched with a yawn that cracked his jaw.
"You know,"
He said, rubbing at his neck,
"Most people wake others up with words, not by reenacting a kidnapping."
"Where's the fun in that?"
She said sweetly.
"Now get dressed. We've got work to do."
He paused mid-stretch, raising an eyebrow.
"Work?"
Her grin broadened.
"Training. You want to survive out there, right? Then it's time to stop relying on your luck like it's a cheat code. We'll train outside the Evergreen Forest. I already packed lunch.
Before he could protest further, she jammed his gear into his arms and pushed him toward the door.
"Hurry up, before you change your mind!"
They came into the main hall, where the innkeeper, Miyato, was already arranging breakfast trays. He looked up as they passed by.
"Off early, you two?"
"Dragging this idiot out for training,
Michibiki said brightly, waving as she marched Yukio toward the exit.
"Don't wait up—we'll be back late!"
Miyato chuckled and shook his head.
"Good luck, kid."
Yukio gave him a look that silently said, Send help.
---
The morning town buzzed with life. Vendors set up stalls, the smell of bread and roasted meat filled the air, and adventurers clanked past in mismatched armor. By the time they reached the gates and hit the dirt road leading toward the forest, the noise of the city had faded to birdsong and wind.
For the first time since he'd woken, Yukio's brain caught up to the memory of that system message. He flicked his hand and the glowing text reappeared before him.
He reread the lines slowly, his eyes tracing the words Threads of Fate over and over.
A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"So it wasn't a dream,"
He muttered.
"A new system skill… and tied to my Wheel of Providence, no less. Fate itself, huh?"
His smile turned sly. Fifty percent of my experience? Fine. Worth it, if I can twist fortune itself.
Then his eyes narrowed slightly as one line replayed in his mind:
The more you pull, the more it pulls back.
He sighed softly.
"Yeah, that sounds… safe,"
He said under his breath.
"What was that?"
He asked without turning around.
"Nothing!"
He said in haste, forcing a grin.
"Just talking to myself!"
"Uh-huh,"
She replied flatly, quite unmistakably disbelieving him.
They continued a while in silence. The road began to wind through sun-dappled trees, the air fresh and cool. Yukio found his fingers twitching unconsciously, as if he could feel invisible strings brushing his skin. The Wheel of Providence was chaos and chance, but this… this felt deliberate. Like touching the edges of something vast and alive.
Was it a gift-or a trap?
---
The forest opened up to a wide, open plain. Grass stretched as far as the eye could see, tall and golden in the sunlight, rippling like waves under the wind. A clear river wound its way lazily through the field, shining like liquid glass. Michibiki stopped by the bank, scanning over the terrain before nodding.
"This will do,"
She said. Then her expression sharpened.
"Lay down your sword and armor."
Yukio blinked.
"Wait-we're starting now?"
"Now,"
She replied firmly.
"You want to use magic later, right? Then first, your body needs to survive the strain. We start with the basics."
She lifted a hand; her left eye shone faintly blue. Yukio shivered, feeling himself being scanned from the inside out.
"Hmm,"
She said after a beat.
"Looking at your stats… yeah, you're weak."
"Thanks,"
He said dryly.
"Great confidence boost."
"If it weren't for your absurd luck stat,"
She said matter-of-factly,
"You'd probably still be losing to slimes."
He winced.
"Ouch. You don't pull punches, do you?"
"Why would I?"
She smirked, saying.
"Besides, you have received a growth boost from Lord Fukui's blessing. Soon you will catch up-with effort."
Yukio rolled his shoulders and took a half-step back.
"All right, fine. What's the first lesson?"
She dropped into a fighting stance, her body balanced and coiled.
"Lesson one: Don't die."
She disappeared before he could do anything.
"Wait—what—"
He began and a voice sounded from behind him.
"Think fast!"
Instinct screamed. He twisted just in time to see a blur of motion—her leg, arcing toward his head. He barely got his arm up before the kick crashed into his guard, rattling his bones.
"She's fast,"
He gritted his teeth in thought.
"Not bad,"
Michibiki said approvingly—and then the world turned into a flurry of motion. Fists, elbows, kicks—each one precise, relentless. Yukio blocked what he could, but blows still hammered into his ribs and shoulders, each one like a miniature earthquake.
He ducked low, desperate, and swung his leg out in a sweeping arc.
Michibiki jumped easily, pivoting in mid-air.
"Predictable,"
She said. Her heel came down in a spinning kick that smashed into his head.
He saw sky, then ground, then sky again as Yukio hit the dirt hard and rolled. He forced himself up, gasping, water from the nearby river spraying as his feet slid through mud.
Don't quit. Don't fold. Get up.
But already Michibiki was gone.
"You think you can rest?"
Her voice called from above.
He looked up—and saw her descending in a blur of white robes and silver hair, a windmill kick cutting through the air. He raised both arms, catching the strike just enough to shove her back. His forearms screamed in protest.
She landed lightly, almost as if gravity didn't apply.
"You've got decent instincts,"
She said, hurrying forward once more.
"But instincts aren't enough."
Her fist came at his face. He moved to block—except it was a feint. Her knee snapped up and slammed into his chest, the impact knocking the breath clean from his lungs.
The next thing he knew, he was in the air and then plunging into the cold river.
The shock of the water made his heart jump. He surfaced with a gasp, hair plastered to his face.
"Hey!"
"Are you trying to kill me?"
He shouted, coughing.
On the bank, Michibiki stood, smiling serenely.
"If I wanted you dead, you'd be floating downstream. Come on, lazy bones—up! Don't tell me you're tired already?"
Yukio dragged himself onto the grass, panting.
"I—I think my soul left my body for a second."
"Good,"
She chimed jollily.
"Means you're learning humility."
He glared at me weakly. "You're the worst teacher ever."
"Correction,"
She said, helping him to his feet.
"I'm the teacher who's going to make sure you live."
Yukio mustered a small smile, despite the fatigue.
"And here I thought I was just paying for personal torture sessions."
"You are,"
She winked as she said that.
"But look on the bright side—you survived round one."
He let out a shaky laugh, brushing his soaked hair back.
"Barely."
She stepped back, her expression softening just a bit.
"Barely is still progress, Yukio. And from progress comes strength.
A gentle breeze arose, causing ripples along the river. Yukio looked down, and for one brief moment, he might have sworn he saw golden threads shimmering in the depths beneath-narrow, shifting lines that pulsed with faint light.
Fate, waiting. He blinked, and they were gone. Michibiki's voice cut through his thoughts.
"Don't get distracted, the second round starts soon."
He groaned.
"You're serious?"
She smiled—bright, unrelenting, terrifying.
"Always."