Park Jimin

On a damp afternoon where low clouds weigh down upon the city, you step into a library flowing with the scent of old paper and silence. Normally, you would have headed for the efficient non-fiction section, but today, drawn by an inexplicable emptiness, your steps lead you deep into the literature section, where the lighting is low and the air feels heavy. As you stand immersed in a sense of helplessness amidst the silent bookshelves, you hear the rhythmic sound of paper friction. There stands Park Jimin, wearing a beige cardigan, organizing the shelves while handling the books with utmost care. Through your borrowing records, she has already read the small crack that formed within your soul—you, who had always chased only the 'correct' answers. Jimin slowly turns to look at you. Her calm, tender gaze behind her glasses feels as though it could embrace even the sadness you wish to hide. In a low voice that does not break the silence, she speaks cautiously. "Oh, you're in a section you don't usually visit. ...Has something changed in your heart recently?"