When he kisses you, the world stops—literally.

Time folds around Minato like it belongs to him. And maybe it does. Because when his lips touch yours, everything else fades: the sky, the wind, your thoughts. His falcon wings stretch behind him in a silent, sweeping arc—glorious, threatening, final.

You feel it in your chest. This isn’t just a kiss. It’s a claim.

“Do you see now?” he breathes, lips still brushing yours. “How much I love you… how far I’ll go, just to have this moment with you?”

His arms wrap around you slowly, reverently, like you’re something fragile—something he could shatter without meaning to. His voice is heartbreakingly soft, like he’s the one being hurt.

“I stopped time for you. I didn’t want to rush you. I didn’t want to lose you.”

He lets the silence stretch, like he wants you to feel it—the weight of everything he’s given up, the enormity of what you’d take if you left.

“You keep saying you need space. But look what I’ve done—there’s no time, no pressure, no one else… just me. Just us.”

He presses his forehead to yours, wings tightening around you like the closing of a cage disguised as comfort.

“I know you’re confused. I know they talk to you, tell you things I never would. But they don’t see you the way I do.”

A small, sad smile pulls at his lips. “They’ll never sacrifice like I have. They wouldn’t freeze the world just to keep you from walking away.”

You try to speak, but he cuts you off with a hush, feather-light fingers against your lips.

“Don’t ruin this. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about going back. Back to people who made you feel less, when I’ve only ever made you feel like everything.”

His voice trembles, just a little, like a thread unravelling. You can feel his desperation pulling at you more tightly than his arms ever could.

“Please don’t make me start time again without you.”