This video work is a poetic piece that portrays the two extremes of “pain” and “brilliance” swirling within a teenager’s heart. Its non-linear, fragmented narrative moves back and forth between reality and memory, as if wandering through the fault lines of recollection, depicting the lingering aftereffects of the protagonist Airu’s heartbreak and the faint light that remains within it. Current loneliness and the tenderness of the past. Shouts and silence, warmth and collapse. All of it layers itself within the rhythm of the visuals, creating a loop of emotion. The camera shakes in hand-held motion, following and capturing emotional turbulence in a physical way. The lighting uses cold blue and gray tones for the present, as if separating existence from memory, while the flashbacks are rendered in warm, slightly overexposed light. Neon glow, like sparks of emotion, occasionally washes over the frame. In the editing, the theme of “a chain of emotions that feels as if it might break, yet never quite does” is expressed through scattered match cuts, dissolves, and glitch-like moments, leaving room in the viewer’s heart. The film repeats rises and falls like a heartbeat, creating an emotional rhythm. This work is a visual poem that seeks to portray all the pain and love hidden behind a single word: “Y.O.U.” It is a visual monologue woven for someone’s emotions that have not yet become words, about self-destruction and rebirth, and how to love and how to lose. Straightforward, awkward, and therefore beautiful — it is a work that burns into image the essence of “teenage.”

This video depicts “the quiet afterglow left behind after parting.” Two people who will never cross paths again. Yet only the threads of emotion remain, thinly and unmistakably, stretching across space. The man and woman never appear in the same frame; each simply stands still within their own world. A man smoking in a room, a woman sitting inside a car wrapped in rain. Time does not move, and there are no words, only emotion drifting there. At the core of this work is “repetition.” The phrase “just because,” repeated again and again in the lyrics. In response, the visuals also repeatedly show the same frames and actions. Exhaling smoke, gazing at the rain, a hand tapping the steering wheel. All of these are mental landscapes of characters trapped within an emotional “loop.” In the editing, by repeating the same moments, the work creates a sensation as if time were melting away. Even within the repetition, subtle changes—a slight shift in light, the timing of a breath, the tremble of a gaze—are woven in, quietly conveying to the viewer that emotion is not completely still. The lighting and camera work are also closely linked to the poetic tempo. Soft, diffused light, streetlights reflected in raindrops, shadows wavering in cigarette smoke. Everything expresses “things that are unclear, yet undeniably there.” Liquid is a visual poem that shines a light on the “ambiguity” of emotion and the things that cannot be put into words. Bittersweetness and release, stillness and suffocation—an audiovisual experience where all of these coexist, like being inside a dream. We aimed for an afterglow that gently touches the depths of the viewer’s memories and emotions.