水面に柔らかな風が吹いていく。
宵の刻に差し掛かるその少し前。

異国の衣に袖を通した女神は美しい。
頬を染める紅は夕陽の色かそれとも。

A gentle breeze blows across the water a scant few minutes before dusk falls. Garbed in an exotic outfit, the goddess stands alone and beautiful. Has the evening sun made her cheeks appear red? Or is she, perhaps, hiding a blush?