IB: Art (for the one with the blue rose)

Friendship!Garry x Ib // Contains spoilers to 'A Promise of Reunion.' // Mai first IB fanart thingy.

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Ib pressed the tip of her blue crayon towards her cheek before it traced her jawlines. She was currently in thought of what to praise her 'brotherly' friend with. He must like the color blue if it matched his rose. The same rose where life and the flower made a pact with her as well. It was amazing how fragile life could be when your 'heart' was held out in a tight fist.

It wasn't often when she spoke, but she often did when the choice was necessary. She preferred to express herself through the stories in the gallery, but her fateful visit made her more or less cautious about the place itself. It was Garry who provided her with some hope flickering about - perhaps that was where he joked about this 'Pandora's Box' item when they were so close to escaping. Yet, it gave her a new story to tie together although she vaguely remembered the horrors within.

It was just Garry whom her memories would never forget. He promised they would meet again because of a blood-stained handkerchief.

She still had another few hours to come up with an idea. Her crayon in her small hand rubbed against the whiteness of plain paper, and the lines were slowly crafted to form intricate designs. It first formed a scribble of a blue rose - though halfway while the stem and leaves were whole. The red rose was made halfway and sewn together with the other person's life gauge. She took the drawing of the rose quite seriously as if the petals would wilt and they would fall unconscious.

Next, she grabbed a purplish crayon - lilac like Garry's own hair - and outlined the tall adult himself. The proportions were slightly off, but she didn't know that. She was too pleased with her current work in progress to even care. The body and legs were rectangular, but it formed an idea it was someone's body. She added his stylish clothes with a grin as she flickered in thought of the time he complimented her own fashion sense. She created her face with a circular look and then colored in, linelessly, his wavy hair and a hidden violet eye.

Once she had finished, she moved on to her own replication of herself with a shorter appearance and softer lines in burgundy. She added her outfit as well as Garry's jacket just to remind him of her respect for his own attire and the appreciation for what he had provided to her from his own pockets. She fluffed out her maroon dress which matched her own reddish-brown eyes and the lineless hair began to form a straight-haired brunette.

She held it up with eyes twinkling and fantasies of Garry's reaction.

...

Ib went to see Garry shortly after she finished. Her parents drove her there, to the gallery, but she only added she wanted to go offer a friend a gift. She knew they would get overprotective if she mentioned many more about the eighteen-year-old, but she owed him enough to live in a blissful reunion. She moved around in the gallery while her parents explored themselves and she descended into the stairway where the rose statue was - there she found him.

The purple-haired man turned his gaze, which was once neutral, until his jaw dropped. "Ib?!" He cried out.

Ib smiled and ran towards him, wrapping him in a sudden hug. She didn't say much, but they exchanged gifts afterwards. Garry inspected the drawing: him and Ib holding two colorful parts of one rose. It gave him notice it was the same roses which acted as their life source and the adventure they had in the frightening art world.

"I love it." He finally said and Ib held close the handkerchief he returned to her.

"Ib! It's time to go home." Ib's mother rang out.

Ib turned her gaze and blinked, wondering if she was hallucinating again or not. She looked to Garry for confirmation and he nodded, indicating she should go back upstairs. They locked eyes for a moment before she nodded silently and sprinted back where the shadows of two parents awaited her.

Garry stared at the picture once more and grinned. He loved the effort she placed into her work and assumed she was an artist. He wondered how she managed to keep coming back here. It was her idea, after all, to return and exchange at this same spot. He was openly hesitant on returning, but she insisted and it was hard for him to turn down a nine-year-old girl's place after all they had been through. Perhaps she wanted to confront the fears which brought forth emotions. He needed to let go of the past too and ignored the painting of the blonde girl in green as he went upstairs.