Sixty years later, Asakusa Hiroshi staggered to Tokyo Station. The nearby buildings were very different from those a few decades ago. The scorching sun in June made her eyes dim, and she felt a sense of the vicissitudes of time. In a trance, his tall and straight figure walked towards her. Sixty years later, he has not changed at all. He is still the handsome 27-year-old rich man in her memory. The only heir of the Jihe Consortium still had that sunny smile. He stretched out his hand and said, "My name is Akirai, Jihe Akirai..." She stretched out her hand tremblingly in blind joy, and held him tightly: "Anglai, Akirai, it's you..." The memory suddenly receded like glue, leaving only the solidification of air and time, and the person in front of her was just a strange young man.
Conception: