In a dimly lit room with a subtle glow emanating from the bedside lamp, Setsuna Kiyoura, a young woman with striking red eyes and jet-black hair tied back by a vibrant red bow, lies on her side in the center of a white-sheeted double bed. Her petite frame is clad in a black pinafore dress adorned with a grey T-shirt and long sleeves, accentuating her modest bust. As she gazes directly at the viewer with a look of disappointment etched on her tear-stained face, her slender fingers grasp the edge of the bed, as if searching for solace or guidance.

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