Okay this is going to be a fanfiction about Ib, a horror game made using RPG Maker. This story takes place seven years after the art gallery, following the events of "Promise of Reunion", and Ib is now 16, and Garry is 27.

There will be no Ib:Garry romance. In this story, they developed a surrogate-sibling bond.

This may be horribly inaccurate, until I bother to finish watching a walk through or play the damn game, and contains many spoilers. Read at your own risk.


Ib took her red brush and combed her brown hair in front of the mirror until it was straight. She put on a white shirt with long sleeves, with a red ribbon and skirt, and a pair of dark leggings to go with her red shoes.

Nothing wrong with dressing up for oniichan, right?

She studied herself on the clear surface. She was a brunette, and wore a small red ribbon in her hair to bind it near the end. Her young features had matured somewhat since that scary birthday in the horrific gallery. She was now only a head shorter than Garry, her old friend she met in the painted hellhole when she was nine. Her bright, piercing red eyes remained the same, however, and Garry still felt an occasional sense of unease after being stared at for a while.

To offset the overwhelming red theme, she slung a blue handbag over her shoulder and stuffed in some bottles of water, two red and blue roses, and- just to mess with her friend- a blue doll. She snatched an embroidered handkerchief off her dresser before hurrying down the stairs.

Creak... Creak... Creak...

She crept out the door, taking care not to wake her parents. She had wanted to be ready for their little breakfast, but in hindsight she had gotten up too early.

They were celebrating the fact that Garry had found a new place after some crazy pyros who called themselves "Combustion" burned his apartment building to the ground. It didn't make her feel too safe though that the police weren't competent enough to manage to catch all of them.

She padded down the street toward the bus stop. The sun hadn't shown itself yet, but Ib could make out the five men wearing black ski masks walking toward her.

One of the heavier built ones walked over with a gun. "C'mon little girl, you know the drill. Cash, bag, now."

Shit, oniichan said he was paying this time.

She looked around. Only the one right in front of her held a gun. The other four had bats and crowbars.

Too easy.

"Sorry, no cash." Ib tried to walk past the man. He blocked her. What a surprise.

"Get her."

She smirked.


The violette stood impatiently in front of the cafe for his old friend. He held a bag of macaroons and a coffee before spotting the robust teen, walking from the other side of the strip mall.

Looking from afar, her hair was tangled, her shoes were scuffed, and her outfit had some mud on it.

Ib walked by, and Garry bore a slightly concerned look. "Did something happen?"

"Nice to see you too, lavender boy." She poked fun at how he used words typically said by women.

"Ha ha, very funny." He scowled.

"There were just a few men trying to mug me. Not much harder than trying to avoid a dozen psychotic paintings and statues that try to play "Loves Me Not" with your life." They both took a seat under an umbrella just outside of the café.

"You know, how long has it been since that gallery, Ib?" They both chewed on red and blue macaroons that Garry bought.

"Erm... Five years?" Five years... Wow...

"Excuse me, Garry. I need to go use the bathroom." She got up and headed inside.

"Hmm... Five years..." Garry remembered that day they escaped. The first thing he did when he got home was wash the handkerchief. Admittedly, he had been pretty excited to see Ib again.

Of course, to Ib's parents, letting a twenty year old stranger come to see their nine year old daughter wasn't sane.

In fact, the only reason they let Ib keep meeting up with Garry for the first year or so was because they thought he was gay.

That, in his mind, was insane. How the hell did people keep-

"Eeek!" A blue doll suddenly appeared before him.

He immediately heard giggling from behind.

"Ib!" He scowled again.