Yuuko waits as the world dispels around her. She lets spindly fingers dance, mellifluous, weaving tapestries from threads of time, and dimension, and loss. She sees into futures, reads pasts. She covets. She has lost much, and yet much still to lose.
He will never see the shop. Not the man, the father with his late wife, nor the child rememberer, who offers his heart to a mystic beauty with long copper hair.
There was once a young woman, a charming little thing, who worked her way through cracks in the walls and stole the magician's heart. Yuuko is not that girl anymore, she hasn't been for centuries. He wouldn't want to see her anyways, she's long been foregone, and it would only serve as a reminder of what he had done.
But he's found a way to fix that now. And Yuuko will die, fade away. Eriol will gather with Kaho, Fujitaka will live on in blessed ignorance. The Sakura and Syaoran from this world will lead happy lives, while the children from Clow suffer torment.
And then, someday, the egg will break, and even Watanuki will go on. Her memory will fade, as it should have before, and only the child will remember. She will be lost, all will be well, and she will not be mourned.