彼女が抱く本は、彼女の過去。そして、彼女自身。

The 29-year-old Asian woman, a librarian, was clad in a sheer black satin dress with a thin veil that fluttered in the breeze. Her skin was an inorganic white, as if she had inhaled the cold night air, completely pale. Her long, jet-black hair glistened wetly, and when the tips of her hair touched a book that had fallen to the floor, words appeared. Her eyes reflected everything like a mirror, but what she saw was no one's face—just a swirl of countless letters. Her expression was one of quiet determination, a mixture of despair and relief, as if she had just read the last page of a book. In both hands, she gently supported the huge, open book floating in the air, as if cradling a child. There were no words on the pages; instead, memories of her childhood flowed like a video. A pale amber light radiated from the center of the book, gently illuminating her figure, casting an upside-down shadow toward the ceiling. The angle is from the front and slightly behind, capturing both her back and the world of book memories unfolding behind her. The background is not a bookshelf, but countless book pages floating in the air, each one containing its own little world and rotating quietly. The style is a fantastical portrait, but the atmosphere is like a fragment of someone's final dream.