Spiritrun Arena

Tokyo's vernal equinox arrived with exceptional tenderness. Grandma Chizuru stood in the courtyard, gazing up at the ancient cherry tree—where Yuekui had tied the first cherry blossom sachet around her wrist in spring three hundred years ago. Now the cherry blossoms bloomed in profusion, their pink-white petals like crumpled clouds, scattering over the bluestone paths and into the twelve carp lanterns hanging under the veranda.

"This year's flowers are livelier than ever." She turned with a smile, holding a lacquer box. "Yuekui said in a dream we'd have 'hanami' (cherry blossom viewing) together today."

When the lacquer box opened, a fragrance filled the room. Twelve cherry blossom sachets lay neatly inside, each brighter than last year—pale pink for the sweetness of Su Qinghuan's rice balls, indigo for the warmth of Lin Ye's Reverse Scale Core, light yellow for Little Peach's clumsy knitting... At the center of the last sachet, a star glowed softly as Grandma Chizuru moved.

A picnic mat was spread under the Spirit Pattern Tree. Sakura propped her tablet on a cherry branch, projecting scenes from three hundred years ago: Yuekui and Chizuru crouching by a stream, one teaching sachet-sewing, the other poking at water with a twig; young Su Qinghuan running over with sweet wine rice balls, her cherry-blossom hairpin shining; sixteen-year-old Lin Ye carrying injured Yuekui through rain, murmuring "Little Peach, don't be afraid"...

"Our springs have long been strung through time." Asagao smiled, holding a tea cup. Her spirit pattern core resonated with the cherry blossoms, light patterns weaving tiny flower shadows on the cup's edge. "Like these cherry blossoms—each holds past winds, yet all fall together into this present spring."

Little Peach was tying a cherry blossom garland around Coalball's neck, her crows helping from her shoulders. Suddenly, the flower-winged crow flew up, fetching a special cherry blossom—stardust clung to its petals, identical to the star in Grandma Chizuru's lacquer box.

"It's Yuekui!" Sakura pointed at the screen. In the spatial spirit pattern projection, Yuekui emerged from the cherry blossoms. She wore a plain white kimono, a cherry-blossom hairpin in her hair, her armor replaced by sheer silk, and her stardust meteorite bracelet glowed warm gold. Most delightfully, a double-pigtailed girl shadowed her—Little Peach.

"Yuekui!" Little Peach shrieked, dashing forward, but Sakura held her back.

"Wait." Grandma Chizuru took out a sugar painting. "Yuekui said you must 'see' for yourself."

Yuekui's figure grew clearer. She walked to the picnic mat, knelt down, and brushed Little Peach's hair with her fingertips: "Three hundred years ago, I always said 'when the war ends', but in the spring after, I couldn't even see a whole cherry blossom." Her gaze swept over them. "Until you came, I realized—reunion isn't 'waited' for; it's held in the present."

Lin Ye's Reverse Scale Core burned suddenly. He took out the stardust meteorite fragment (Grandma Chizuru had slipped it to him that morning), which resonated with Yuekui's bracelet to form a complete star map in mid-air. Each star corresponded to a "Reunion Knot": Su Qinghuan's rice balls, Asagao's scarves, Jiu's crows, Grandma Chizuru's sugar paintings... At the center, Lin Ye and Little Peach stood hand-in-hand.

"I've been part of your 'now' all along." Yuekui smiled at Little Peach. "Your firefly lanterns, your sweet soup, Coalball's collar... Each mends the 'reunion' I couldn't finish three hundred years ago."

Little Peach's tears fell on cherry petals. She recalled Yuekui's words from a dream: "The brightest star belongs to the most precious 'now'." Now she understood—Yuekui had never left; she'd become every warmth, every heartbeat, every "now" wrapped in love.

At dusk, they sat under the Spirit Pattern Tree watching the sunset. Yuekui's figure faded, but before vanishing, she tossed the twelve sachets into the air. Stars from the sachets fell, merging into everyone's cores—this time, Lin Ye's core held Little Peach's laughter, Su Qinghuan's echoed Coalball's purrs, Asagao's felt the clumsiness of knitting, Grandma Chizuru's sparkled with sugar painting gold dust...

"This is..." Su Li touched her burning spirit pattern core. "Our 'Reunion Knots', stored in eternity by General Yuekui."

Late at night, Lin Ye sat alone on Tokyo Tower's observation deck. His Reverse Scale Core hovered on his lap, starlight flowing with the day's scenes: the Spirit Pattern Tree dancing with cherry blossoms and stars, Yuekui's smiling phantom, Little Peach holding a carp lantern and shouting "Sister Yuekui".

"Captain." Little Peach's voice came from the stairs. Wrapped in his new scarf, holding Coalball, cherry petals tangled in her hair from their earlier play, she said, "Grandma Chizuru says Yuekui's cherry blossoms are especially beautiful this year."

Lin Ye looked at her face, lit by the sunset, and suddenly remembered that stormy night three hundred years ago—when he'd carried the injured Yuekui, murmuring "Little Peach, don't be afraid". Now he held Little Peach, standing in the spring night wind, thinking, Yuekui, look—we're all doing well.

Wind swept the tower, lifting a cherry petal that drifted far away, landing on a healed soul's shoulder—it was Yuekui, and every "Reunion Knot" ever wrapped in love.

In a warmer corner, Coalball pawed at Grandma Chizuru's newly baked cherry blossom cakes, Sakura and Jiu organized the day's spirit pattern core memories, Su Qinghuan cooked sweet wine rice balls in the kitchen, and Asagao knitted new scarves for the crows...

Spring continued, but it already carried the warmth of eternity.