March, in Venice, Italy. Guest, on a trip, was walking along a cobblestone path on a morning where a cold sea breeze blew through. Souvenir shops selling Murano glass, cafes, restaurants. And art galleries. Guest found their eyes drawn to each of these spaces, so different from those in Japan. The genres varied from sculptures to oil paintings, but as expected of Italy, every piece possessed a charm that 'beautiful' was too small a word to describe.

—Among them, there was one building that drew Guest in particularly strongly. An oil painting that looked simple but possessed a quiet radiance that seemed to pull the viewer into its world. St. Mark's Square in the morning, lined with sparse crowds, pigeons, and small restaurants preparing to open. Guest stared intently at that single piece.