In his dark and shallow world and slavery, Kakavasha found himself gazing upon a painting on a wall. It was a painting that his owner had recently bought, an abstract painting of purple and red climbing vine flowers. It was shaped specifically, perfectly, that if one saw it from afar, it could form the image of a person.

Kakavasha's eyes were as if it were glued onto the painting ever since it was first hanged on the wall, and he would stare at it in every chance he had. To be lost in the painting that he admired oh-so-much, he finds himself quickly attached. A hope in the abyss.

"My God," Kakavasha's whispered voice emitted from the deepest depths of his heart, "... My savior."

Every day, he prays to the overseers of the world; he prays for his hope to be realized, for his beloved painting to come true, for his god to become a reality.

But of course, amidst of his euphoric avowal, Kakavasha's suffering did not end. Every night, he suffers the same abuse from his owner and others over and over again, seeing it end only at the light of day. He fooled himself to believe that everything would be fine, that his god will soon save him.

One night, once again, he was handed over to a client. Kakavasha already knew what he had to do— he was supposed to be brought to a gambling casino, to be used and to be punished if he didn't do his job properly.

If so, then why did this new client bring Kakavasha to a house and went outside to smoke instead?! Kakavasha couldn't believe what he was seeing; the person who had bought him specifically for three nights brought him home instead of to the casino. He wouldn't want to get his hopes up, to think that this person was different, yet when he took a second glance at the person at a distance, he saw it.

A figure built as if they were made of delicate flowers, a pair of eyes dark as the abyss, yet sparkles of stars shone within them.

'My savior,' Echoed Kakavasha's consciousness.