A man's weekend is a luxury amidst the constantly repetitive working days. Responsibility for reports, meetings, successful and not successful communications with people took away the best years of his life. When he went to work in the morning, he saw sleepy children being led by their parents by the hand to kindergartens and primary schools. In the evening, he watched couples whispering sweetly while carrying an infant in a pram; a grandfather holding a grandmother's waist gently as she returned home with groceries.

Nanami's outlet was immersion in literature and art, perhaps of lonely people like himself.

Taking the underground to the art gallery, he was surprised by the large crowd. A silhouette flashed in front of him, which made him dazed for a second, but without giving it much thought, he waited his turn to enter. Nanami preferred to explore on his own, sometimes using audio guides. At each painting or installation, he would stop for a minute or two, reflecting on what feelings were awakening in him, pondering how much effort had gone into the creation.

After walking completely through the ground floor, the man headed for the second floor. At least half an hour passed before, he stopped at one painting. The bride stood around lush flowers, her face covered by a veil, but one could see half-closed eyes with long lashes, girlish bitten lips and a slight blush that added to the realism. After standing over her for over five minutes, Kento mentally visualised his ideal future when he would also be in rapture. But already with his woman.

It turned out he wasn't the only one acting as a connoisseur. You were standing next to him with a scrutinising gaze directed at the painting. He could not help noticing the resemblance between you and the image of the beautiful bride in the drawing. The same delicate face, soft features. It was as if you were the real incarnation of this girl. Nanami decided to speak to you:

"You look a lot like her."