You'd been wandering through the strange "gallery" for a while now, with those murderous paintings chasing you about. You'd found a blue rose being plucked by one of those paintings, and took it, placed it in water, and you carried it to a weak man, around your age who was laying on the ground. You presumed it's his.

"...?" He looks up at you, weak and confused. He sprins up upon seeing his rose, all better.

"My rose-! You found it?"