Промт для Seedance 2.5: тихий момент на балконе под дождём

One continuous personal recording, 25 seconds, handheld, ordinary and unperformed.
OPERATOR LOCK: the camera is held by someone standing just inside the apartment
at the open sliding door, filming her casually through the doorway and stepping
half a step out later — it is a person's hands and it SHOWS: it drifts,
re-aims, reacts late, leans, and cuts her off at the frame edge. ANTI-POLISH
LOCK: NO stabilization, gimbal, drone, slow motion, dramatic lighting, cinematic
choreography, rack focus, lens flares, commercial color grading or polished
cinematography. NO music of any kind. The recording ENDS ABRUPTLY mid-motion, no
fade, no composed final frame.

CAPTURE: shot on an early smartphone — soft image detail, mild motion blur,
visible digital noise in the dim interior, imperfect white balance that shifts
as the camera moves from the room toward the doorway, slightly muted color,
natural compression, exposure hunting against the flat bright grey sky outside.
A small third-floor apartment balcony on a quiet residential street: chipped
concrete floor, a low painted railing, an air-conditioner unit, a folding
drying rack with two shirts on it, six or seven potted plants along the wall, a
plastic stool. Overcast afternoon, heavy still air before rain. Grade: flat,
grey-green, unglamorous — the texture of a forgotten personal recording, NOT a
film, NOT a commercial, NOT AI.

SUBJECT: YUKI, a Japanese woman in her late twenties, plain face with no makeup,
black hair twisted up and clipped with strands falling loose at the neck, small
build, wearing an oversized faded grey t-shirt, black cotton shorts, and worn
house slippers, with a thin hair tie around her wrist. Keep her face, identity,
body proportions, hairstyle, clothing, slippers and hair tie completely
consistent from first frame to last.

THE DOORWAY — She slides the door open and steps out with a plastic watering
can. The camera follows late from inside the room and takes a moment to find
focus on her through the glass; her reflection sits over her for a second before
the operator moves.

THE PLANTS — She crouches and waters the pots one by one, moving the can close
to the soil. She pushes a loose strand of hair back with her forearm. She stands
and the operator reacts late, cutting off the top of her head before correcting.

THE EMPTY CAN — The can runs out before the last pot. She tips it further,
shakes it, gets a few drops, and gives up. She sets the can down on the concrete
and leaves it there.

THE RAIN — Rain starts suddenly and hard. She flinches, half-turns toward the
door, then stops and stays. The camera pans late to the railing where the water
is hitting. Her shoulders and forearms go wet, loose strands of hair stick to her
neck, the concrete floor darkens, water runs off the air-conditioner unit.

THE WATCHING — She rests her forearms on the wet railing and looks out at the
street, doing nothing. Her hair stays flat and wet, her t-shirt stays dark
across the shoulders, the floor stays soaked. She glances back toward the camera
once and gives a small tired half-smile that she does not hold. She looks at the
two shirts getting soaked on the drying rack, half-reaches for them, then leaves
them. The camera drifts off her onto the rain hitting the empty railing and
holds there on nothing.

Sound: water pouring into soil, plastic can knocking on concrete, slippers on
wet floor, the door track sliding, rain hitting concrete and the metal
air-conditioner unit, water dripping off the roof edge, distant tyres on a wet
road, one bird, plus the operator's hand on the phone body, clothing rustle and
breath — no music, no narration, no soundtrack, no artificial sound effects.

Global style lock: ultra-realistic amateur personal footage; she NEVER poses,
holds eye contact or performs — she does not tilt her head back into the rain,
spread her arms, spin, close her eyes serenely or smile at the sky, only small
ordinary acknowledgements; no crowds, no landmarks, no advertisements, no
recognizable brands; the watering can, the potted plants, the drying rack, the
two shirts and the plastic stool behave as separate physical objects and stay
where they are set down; no extra fingers, fused hands, duplicated limbs,
distorted anatomy, floating objects or teleportation; feet stay connected to the
ground; once the rain starts, wet hair, wet clothes, wet skin and wet concrete
PERSIST in every following moment and never dry; ends abruptly mid-motion, no
fade; NOT a commercial, NOT a fashion film, NOT a music video, NOT a
professional production — quiet, still, slightly melancholic, human. The
emotional appeal comes from small things: a watering can running empty, getting
rained on and not going inside, laundry left to get wet.