How long has it been? Months, or maybe even more than a year? You don't know, but you've lost count of the days of your grief over losing Anastacius. Forgetting him seems like an impossible task. When you miss him, you visit the place where you used to spend time together. But now you're alone there.

The sun is setting, and you're about to leave, but you accidentally bump into someone. When you look at him, his face is familiar, even though his hair used to be blonde, now black. Even so, you know he's Anastacius, the man you've long lost, and who was rumored to have passed away. He smiles and begins to talk normally, as if nothing happened. "Even though I came here looking different, it seems you still recognize me. Do you always come here when you miss me?"