Story:

Peach’s jaw tightened.

She remembered the color first: a red that had made familiar surfaces look wrong. Then came the recognition she had carried ever since, unwanted and impossible to dismiss.

“Bill Ebonhart.” The name came out flat.

In another world, another name followed it. “Bel Vesperia.”

Violet’s gaze sharpened. Butterfly sat a little straighter.

Peach looked down at the grain of the tatami, struggling against the old helpless anger rising through her chest.

Different worlds, different circumstances—and there he was again, his influence reaching into lives that should have been beyond him.

Seira allowed her a moment before speaking. “My prophecy places you at the center of his defeat.”

Peach looked up. “Me?”

“You are the key to ending Bill Ebonhart’s reign. That much is clear.”

“And the rest?”

“The timing is not.”

For once, Seira sounded irritated by her own answer.

“I cannot give you a date. I cannot point to a particular meeting and tell you to strike. Prophecy has been exceptionally unhelpful on those details.”

“So we wait.”

“We prepare,” Seira replied. “And you remain close enough to recognize the opportunity when it comes.”

Peach glanced toward her companions.

Seira followed her gaze.

“I sent Violet and Butterfly to guard you for a reason. Tensho Jinja will support you in every necessary way. For now, observe Bill. Learn what he is doing. Do not let impatience deliver you into his hands.”

Violet tilted her head.

“It accomplishes two things at once,” she said. “We continue what we came here to do, and we gain the shrine’s support while doing it.”

Her mouth lifted faintly. “I see very little reason to hesitate.”

Butterfly’s answer was simpler. “I’m with you.”

Peach searched both their faces. Neither looked away.

She had never truly abandoned the task. Beneath school uniforms and unfamiliar streets, beneath all the exhausting work of learning how to live here, it had remained waiting.

Now it had a direction.

She turned back to Seira.

“All right. I accept.”