The early sun cast gold across the Mitsuyo estate, reflecting off glass towers, interdimensional bridges, and the quiet gardens where cherry blossoms still lingered in soft clusters.
Kyuroto Mitsuyo stood beside Wixing Yixia, his dual-toned hair catching the light, eyes calm yet piercing. For a moment, neither spoke. The world—half neon, half ancient shrine, blending Tokyo and Beijing into one surreal harmony—paused around them.
Then Kyuroto spoke, his voice low, unwavering.
"Yixia… I love you."
She blinked, startled by the simplicity and the weight of his words. "…I know," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I… I feel it too."
Kyuroto took her hands gently, holding them as if the threads of all realities were tied to this single moment.
"I will not let anyone abuse you," he said. "Not your family, not relatives, not strangers, not even fate itself. I promise you this on the memory of my parents, on the lives they gave and lost. You… will never suffer while I can prevent it."
Tears glimmered in her eyes. "Kyuroto… you don't have to—"
"I do," he interrupted softly, a quiet steel underlying the calm. "Because love is action, not words. And I have the means—more than any human or mortal could imagine. Resources, influence, concepts… all of it is yours if you wish. Not as charity. Not as a gift. As a choice."
Kyuroto gestured subtly. Around them, the estate shimmered, revealing glimpses of the Mitsuyo Clan's hidden wealth, not only physical gold or technological marvels, but conceptual threads—infrastructure, probability threads, even possibilities themselves bending to his will.
"You can choose my love," he said, pulling her close. He hugged her tightly, a rare display of physical warmth. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "And you always will have it. Always."
Wixing Yixia felt herself trembling in his arms—not fear, not awe, but an overwhelming sense of safety, of being cherished in a way that spanned worlds and realities.
Kyuroto pulled back slightly, smiling faintly. "I must go to the office now. Even as heir of the Mitsuyo Clan, there are threads that require tending. But know this: from now on… I live here, with you. Japan and China, together. Our worlds… our reality… our lives. All of it, we navigate as one."
She looked at him, heart full. "I… I trust you. Completely."
Kyuroto's gaze softened. "Then our paths are aligned. Nothing can sever them—not time, not distance, not even infinity itself."
He turned, walking toward the office that shimmered with layers of space, time, and probability, a silent king among realities. Behind him, Wixing Yixia watched, her hand still glowing faintly from the warmth of his touch.
In that moment, it was not the Mitsuyo Clan, nor the empire of shadows, nor omniversal power that defined him. It was the simple, human truth: a man choosing to love, to protect, and to act.
Cherry blossoms drifted around them, neither summoned nor controlled. Just as life, just as love—freely, silently, endlessly.
And somewhere, far beyond the estate, in the silence before infinity, a presence observed. Not with judgment, not with expectation, only acknowledgment.
The promise had been made.
And for the first time in countless millennia, even infinity felt… quietly, steadily reassured.