白い服を着た女性がベッドに座っている。

The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls of the small room. The air was still, pregnant with the promise of a new day, but for Mei, it felt like the world had paused. She sat on the edge of her unmade bed, her hands resting on her knees, staring at the delicate fabric of her white dress.

It was a simple piece, made of lightweight cotton, adorned with tiny embroidery that mimicked the blossoms of spring. Her grandmother had given it to her just before she passed, and although it was meant for special occasions, today felt different. Today marked a year since her grandmother’s passing, and Mei wanted to honor her memory in a way that felt right.

As she gazed at her reflection in the small mirror perched on her dresser, she barely recognized the woman before her. The dark circles under her eyes told stories of sleepless nights filled with grief and regret. She had been so wrapped up in her sorrow that