It has been ten years since Ib has been to Guertena's museum. She is now a nineteen-year-old living alone in an apartment found nearby the shopping mall of the city. Like any other nineteen-year-old, she goes to university, with her parents paying for her tuition. To show her gratitude to her parents, Ib works at her mother's tailor shop as the clerk. Sometimes she would help sew the clothing as her mother taught her how to sew her own clothing.
Along with this new life, every night when she's sleeping, Ib dreams of the art museum as she runs around on a horrific journey through it, being chased by its paintings and sculptures, but what bothered her the most about her dreams was how she was accompanied by two people: one whom she knows to be a crazy blonde who wishes for her stay in her world forever while the other was another painting she remembers from the gallery. To her, it was frankly disturbing but also an enjoyable thought that her mind would conjure these people in her head, considering she has not even met them. Save it for the painting as she has met him. However, the idea that they could speak to her and also their own personalities slightly frightens her since she never really saw herself as the creative type.
After the many dreams that continue to bother her every few nights, she decided to head back to the art gallery to, perhaps, get rid of the dreams forever. When she enters Guertena's gallery, a sense of nostalgia ran through her with memories filling her head of walking around, looking at the different, abstract paintings and sculptures that decor the halls of this building. After paying for her ticket at the lobby, Ib walked on with her shoulder bag and proceeded through the gallery. As most people, she walked straight to where the canvas named the "Abyss of the Deep" lie upon the floor. She remembered how her mother was excited for this very painting, however to her, it was rather scary with the big old fish with sharp teeth was three times the size of her when she was little. Now, she wasn't all that scared, more like it, she felt as if in a trance by it, as if the water in the canvas was real and that she would fall into the waters without knowing. Shaking her head, Ib walked away from the floor painting and decided to look at the other paintings.
Walking around aimlessly, she left the ground floor to the stairs. As she walked up the stairs behind a tour group of students who yearn to become artists, she noted how the museum did not change a bit from when she was last here. Reaching the second floor landing, she made a sharp turn to see the headless statues that were so interesting to her. When she was younger, this was also something that scared her. Not only that, she is still scared of them due to those dreams that she has been receiving of them chasing after her and her companion. Slowly, she etched herself away from the exhibit and carried on to the upcoming exhibit. She was not very interested in the couch, so she moved on to the next room, which held a sculpture of a rose. She studied this one carefully as this was something significant in her recurring dreams. After those nights of visions, Ib knew that they were to represent a person's life whereas if something went wrong with the rose, the person too will be hurt.
'Well, I guess I didn't have to be that young to understand what Guertena was getting at…' Ib read the description of "Embodiment of Spirit" before leaving off to the other paintings. As she passed to the other room, Ib felt an odd sensation go through her, as if something was missing. From her dream, there was supposed to be a long hallway before reaching the other end of the building.
'Maybe they really did some renovations,' Ib dismissed the thought without a second thought. She walked on to see the rest of the museum.
After studying the paintings upstairs, Ib realized that she forgot a large section of the art museum on the ground floor. With this mind, she headed off quickly towards the stairs until her eye picked up a familiar face. Before taking a step down the tiers, she turned around to find the painting she was yearning to see once more. The painting depicted a young man sitting on the ground asleep. The male was rather odd looking, with his curly and fluffy-looking purple hair along with his ragged dark blue cloak. It was the man in her dream, the man who saved her from the nightmare but yet a part of the dream as well. She studied the painting carefully, recalling facts about this painting, from her research to her dream, one fact being that it was one of her mother's favorite painting.
'Forgotten Portrait,' she placed a finger on her own lips in thought, 'If I correctly read somewhere, you were one of the greatest paintings of Guertena since he hardly illustrates people. The only thing is that I just can't figure out who forgot you.' Everywhere Ib read about this exact painting, it never explained the meaning behind its title. Perhaps she was just reading the wrong books…? In any case, she hardly knew anything about this painting, except it seemed she felt contrast deep inside, with the dream in mind.
'I can't seem to remember your name from the dream…' Ib sighed silently to herself to not disturb anyone else around her. 'You helped me though, but why did my mind choose you to dream about? You were nice though, like a big brother. I just wish that Guertena was alive so I could ask about you. What was your name? Were you real? Who were you to Guertena? What are you supposed to be?' Questions after questions ran through her mind, and it pained Ib a bit that she will not be able to get the answers. She continued to look at the painting with eagerness as if each little detail in the painting may give her the answer she is looking for. She closed her eyes for a bit as she stood there, thinking back to her adventures in her dream with the forgotten male. In her dream, she remembered saving his life by retrieving his blue rose and giving it to the man without being afraid to approach him. As other dreams occurred, she also found that the man, in return, saved her life by sacrificing his own. However, Ib didn't really dwell upon these dreams for long since the truth about this painting, she believed, would not come from her imagination but from the mastermind of the piece. 'Were you forgotten by Guertena?'
She continued to stand there for a bit as she looked at the details upon the canvas. The painting filled her sadness and an unknown longing that she couldn't explain. She felt sorry for the fellow in the painting but also mournful as if she had lost a friend beyond the canvas.
'What if the man had died…?' Ib thought to herself as she leaned on one leg. This thought, unlike a few others she had, filled her with some new puzzle pieces of her dream.
The duo heaved, trying to catch their breath after running from the dreadful room. The brown-haired little girl looked over to the older figure bending over, who was screaming while running over to the place they stand now. He breathed heavily before speaking.
"That was another close call. Man, I'm so sick of this place!" The purple-haired male straightened his back while looking at Ib. "Well, shall we go then, Ib?" Ib nodded with the male before they placed their hands into each other's then proceeded to go through the long, winding hallway decked out in blue crayon. It was not too long until Ib and the mysterious man stumbled upon recurring things that trailed throughout the hall.
Blue petals of a rose were left behind by the blonde girl in a green dress as the duo could still hear her voice echo from afar. The man picked up the pace as he walked quickly to try to get to the end of the hall, but pain increased drastically after each petal they saw. At last, when they were nearing the end of the hall, the man had stopped in his tracks. Still holding onto the man's hand, Ib turned around to him, worries filling her red, dull eyes. She spoke his name with a worried tone.
"Garry…?" Ib squeezed his hand, fearing that the said man has reached his limit. The man was drenched over and breathing weakly as if they had ran for so long.
"Ib…umm," Garry tried to stand up straight but he went back to his lower position as if he were going to collapse any time now. His hand felt limp in Ib's own as Ib remained quiet for the older to speak, "Sorry, but … Could you go ahead?"
With shock, Ib's eyes widened but later dwindled to the point where it seemed she was going to cry. She bit her lip slightly but not noticeably as she squeezed Garry's hand.
"Garry, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Ib tried to look in Garry's eyes, but he averted his gaze before speaking.
"I'm..uh… I'm sorry… I don't really know what to say…" Garry gave a weak smile before looking down sadly, "I don't want to lie to you…But I…don't want to tell the truth either…" Garry's grasp loosen around Ib's tiny hands. Confused, afraid, and sad, Ib took a step towards Garry, trying to grab at his hand again to pull him along. However, he stopped Ib with what little power he had left.
"Ib… no… I can't…" the little girl let go of his hand as he spoke on, "If you… need help… I'll… come running… alright?" No response.
"Just.. go on ahead," Hesitating, the girl took a step back and turned around to follow the elder's order.
"I-I'll come back for you, Garry. I promise..!" Ib quickly turned her head back to the man. After the man had given her a weak smile, the nine-year-old ran off quickly to get Garry's rose.
"Garry…" Ib opened her eyes to meet the purple-haired male, sitting in the painting. The museum had been quiet but when Ib spoke, the silence was broken. 'So that was your name? Garry…' She smiled at the sad painting of the blue man. She looked around to make sure no one was around her. Seeing that there was hardly anyone there, Ib turned back to the painting.
"Hey, Garry…" she whispered softly, "You were in my dreams lately, and I know you didn't really do anything. After all, you are a painting, but even so, I just want to thank you for saving me. It was a nightmare at first, but when you came along, the dream got better… So thank-̋̋̋ Ib stopped herself from talking further to the painting as she heard her cellphone ring. Slowly, she took her phone out from her bag, but when she saw that the contact was her mother, she flipped open the phone and walked off leaving the painting and all together, the museum.
A couple minutes later after Ib's leave, a mother and a boy came upon this painting. The mother studied the painting and was about to explain it to her dearest son, however, the boy was the first to speak up.
"Mommy, I don't like this painting…" he mumbled, fidgeting in place.
"Hm?" the boy startled her train of thought. She changed her attention from the painting to the boy and asked, "Why is that?"
"Because the man is crying while he's sleeping," The mother looked carefully at the painted man's only eye that showed. Sure enough, there was what looked like tears beading out of his closed eyes.