Author's Note - Before we begin

Hey, guys, sorry for putting this author's note up here, I'll try to make this as short as possible. So, this is my first story, and I decided to make it a crossover between Ib and To the Moon. You will only see one game referenced here, but later on, you'll see... Well, enjoy, rate, and review!

Also, I'm not actually... confident in this piece and my skills as a writer, so constructive criticism is appreciated!

Ib's Last Ending

Prologue

"Loves me…" Garry, a man in his mid-20s with purple hair and an old coat, clutched his side as he felt a petal being torn out of his rose, which opened a wound inside him.

"Loves me not…" Ib, a nine-year-old girl with red eyes that wore a standard school uniform and a red skirt, looked at Garry in worry as he suffered. He simply gave her a stern glare in reply and said, "There's no need to worry about me. I'm okay. Just keep going and get Mary quick- agh!" Ib stared at him even more, but eventually she nodded and ran to the exit.

"Loves me…" The ominous voice of Mary, a blonde girl in a green dress who came from a painting, came from upstairs, getting louder as she waited for the result of the last petal. Ib had to hurry. There were only four petals left.

"Loves me not…" Three petals were left. Ib ran faster.

"Loves me…" Two petals left.

"Loves me not…"One petal.

Ib ran up the stairs at last… only to see in horror Mary triumphantly pluck the last petal from Garry's rose. "Loves me! YES!" And with that ecstatic cry, Mary ran out the door.

Ib, after standing there to register what just happened, ran to the remaining stem of Garry's rose, literally his life in this twisted world of art. "Oh no…" She grabbed it and fell to her knees. "No… It… it's a lie! No! NO! NOOOOOOOOOO!" Hugging what was left of Garry's life force, she cried hysterically alone, frustrated and miserable at how she was too slow to stop his death.

Minutes later, Ib was trudging her way back to Garry… or what was left of Garry. She found him in a sitting position, his right hand outstretched. On his cold, pale palm… was his lighter and a piece of paper. Possibly being what could be her last memory of Garry, she took it and went back upstairs. While walking she read the scribbled message left for her.

"Hey, Ib. Well, I guess I couldn't make it after all. It doesn't matter, though. I'll die happy knowing I got to save you instead of abandoning you in this world. I want you to escape now. If possible, and I know it's ridiculous… but please, I recommend you take Mary with you. I know, it sounds weird, but if you don't like it, then... don't go after Mary. She's not worth killing and it's a waste of time on your part. Just go ahead and escape without me. Please, Ib. Go and use the Pink Key while you have it. I'm sorry for dying on you, but hey. Everyone dies at some point. I want to make sure you don't until you reach the old years. I wish you the be-"

The note cut off there. Ib put away the paper. She was already soaked in her own bitter tears, and still she couldn't stop crying. She looked around the room when she reached it. Where the toy box used to be now had crayon-drawn vines of yellow roses blocking a set of stairs. After examining it, Ib found she could burn it, and did so with the lighter, watching crayon-drawn flames consume the blockage. The thought of Garry's body swept over her again, leaving her wracked with emotional pain. Struggling to stay sane, she walked up the stairs to see what was there. During her crying fit, she had completely missed the postscript.

It was an empty room. Well, empty everywhere except for the last 5 feet, that is. There, she saw a mess of… what looked like failed projects. She saw an imperfect blue doll to her left as she walked by, a shattered mannequin head further up. As she turned right, she saw a diary, also drawn in crayon. In contrast to the book itself, however, the words written on it were properly handwritten. She picked it up.

Mary's Diary

"…I like the visitors coming in to live with me, but… I want to leave this place myself and live outside!... But unless someone takes my place, it seems I can't do that…

Won't somebody come soon?

…

Won't somebody come soon?"

Ib, after slowly registering what it said, shook her head harshly and slammed the diary shut. Jerking her head away from the diary, she saw it. Mary's painting. The middle was all cracked, which she guessed it was because that was where Mary had come out, born. Garry's body flashed into Ib's mind once more. Shaking in rage and hatred, she crumpled Garry's letter with the hand holding it, and took out the lighter. "I'm sorry, Garry, but Mary has to go."

"…Ib? Wait, what are you doing here?" Ib turned around to see Mary herself standing at the entrance, holding the palette knife. "Why are you holding a lighter near my painting? And why the look… Oh no. Ib, don't! Please! DON'T!" Ib glowered at Mary contemptuously.

"This is for my friend Garry… Go join him in hell you evil psychopath."

"NO!" Mary ran at Ib with the palette knife, but stopped abruptly midway when she saw the fire. Ib took a deep breath, and thrust the lighter… halfway to the painting and stopped. Their hands shaking uncontrollably, both girls waited there for a tense moment before Ib dropped her weapon.

"…Garry was right." Mary flinched at Ib's tense voice. "I don't have to kill you. You're just not worth it." Mary's face changed from anxiety to shock. "You're dangerous, and act like it. And you still are. But I see now that you're also just an annoying brat that is nothing of value, in any meaning. We should never have taken you. You're a failure made by Guertena."

Mary took time to register what Ib had said, the word "failure", the phrase "nothing of value." "I'M NOT A FAILURE!" she cried out. "My daddy made sure that he made me perfect in every last detail! He… he would never make his last painting the worst!"

Ib shook her head. "He was dying when he painted you, Mary. He was desperate to finish it, and yes, he finished you. But I read in a diary of his before we met you that he would impart his spirit within his artwork. From what I see, it went wrong here. It all went wrong here. The Ladies on Colors, the headless mannequins… You… are all failed experiments of his... um... hypothesis? Hypothesis, yeah, during his last day. Why? He probably forgot to put his moral values into them, any sort of human qualities into them. They became monsters. You, though… you were the biggest failure of his works. It's because he imparted only a bit more of his spirit than others you were the worst. You had the smarts of a human… but still a monster without common sense. Because of that, you blindly planned a way to take Garry's place or my place. I just read your diary, and it looks like you can't get out on your own. So, you tricked us and killed Garry because of that. You could have helped us out instead. Guertena would've been disappointed in you. You could've been better than this, but…"

"SHUT UP!" Mary swung her knife at Ib, but missed completely, an embarrassing move. "I'M NOT A FAILURE! I AM NOT A MONSTER! I AM NOT…!" She breathed heavily in frustration and helplessness and dropped her knife. "I…"

But Ib was on a roll. "You know what the worst part was? You had the chance to escape with both of us when we went in. Because there weren't two of us that went in… there were three. The third one that came in here was the ant. He was also a living being with a mind, but unlike me and Garry, he didn't mind staying. You could have used him as a replacement instead. He had a really nice painting, too. But now, you murdered Garry, and I'll make you live with the guilt of your own stupidity. I'll never forgive you for it." Both girls were in tears now, one from grief, the other from realization and guilt. Ib clenched her fists. "I'm going. I've had enough of this place." Standing up and strong, she walked past Mary, who stood there, paralyzed in shock. A while after Ib reached the stairs, Mary suddenly fell to her knees… and bent down crying. Ib, willing herself not to look back, exited Mary's house and moved on to the pink building. As she walked, she could hear a hysterical storm of loud apologies and self-destructive words all the way across the crayon-drawn town. Ib tried her best not to feel compassion for the poor girl she left behind.

She proceeded down what looked like a black hallway, and what she found was a surprise. It was the museum. Where her whole journey started. Knowing where to go, she walked towards "? World," or as Garry called it: "Fabricated World." Looking at the painting, she realized she was looking at the gallery, at the time before all the troubles started. "Could this be it…?"

Suddenly, the painting lost its frame, and took on a LCD appearance. It was like it was beckoning Ib to jump in. Ib looked back, then looked at the painting. She had gone this far… she would do this for Garry. Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she jumped in…

Ib herself standing next to the painting of the "? World," with no memory whatsoever. She rubbed her eyes and found them wet. "Huh? What… happened?" Shrugging, she walked off. Looking at a clock, she was already-

"There you are, sister!" An odd blonde girl in a green dress exclaimed when Ib came to sight. "We looked everywhere for you! Where were you?"

Ib didn't remember having a sister… but seeing how her memory was spotty in some places, she shrugged. "Sorry, got too interested in looking at some painting called… something World."

Mary crossed her arms and made a confused look. "Something World? I looked everywhere and didn't see any work of art with the word 'World' in it. Well, let's go! Mom's gonna be angry if she found out you've been gone for too long!"

She grabbed Ib's hand and ran towards the stairs, but Ib shook it off when she saw an interesting painting. It depicted a sleeping man with purple hair and modern clothes. He was holding a blue rose… and a piece of candy wrapped in a yellow wrapper. "Wow, it looks really modern... and familiar…" Ib put her hands into her pockets, then felt something hard. Taking it out, she saw it was a piece of candy... in the same yellow wrapper as the painting. "Wait… oh no." Tears welled up in Ib's eyes. "I remember everything now. The other gallery… Garry… I'm sorry…" She fell to her knees, mind shrouded in grief. She was causing quite a commotion for the other people. Suddenly, Mary came and grabbed her. "Come on! Mom's mad! Let's go!"

Ib looked at her and shook her hand off, anger blazing in her eyes. "Tell me again why I didn't kill you…"

Mary turned her face away from Ib and lowered her head. Ib remembered. "… I was an idiot. I shouldn't ever have done that. You won't forgive me; I know it, but… I'll be the nicest sister you could have. That's the best I can do for Garry's sake… I'm sorry."

Ib, looking around and seeing the annoyed crowd, whispered, "We'll take this outside," and both girls walked outside.

They continued where they had left off. After a brief pause, Ib slapped Mary. "YOU KILLED GARRY! NOTHING IS GOING TO MAKE UP FOR THAT!" Ib yelled right into her face. "…Not your death, not a memory-wipe... nothing." She raised her hand for another slap, but dropped it. "No... nothing will ever... bring Garry back."

Mary welled up with tears. She thought she could make it up for Garry, cheer Ib up. It seems the only thing she got from this was a hand print to her right cheek. "I'm sorry, Ib. I guess… I'll just leave, then. I'll return your memories as they were before I came into this world. I thought we could… be together forever, that I wouldn't disappoint Garry in the end." She walked back to the gallery.

When Ib came back to her wits and managed to register what Mary had just said, she suddenly felt like she got slapped in the face herself. She realized she was being ungrateful, no matter how badly off she was. Here Mary was, trying to be nice to Ib and actually honoring Garry for a change, but all Ib had done was give her a slap to the face. "Wait… Mary." She ran and caught up with Mary within seconds. The once painted girl turned to Ib when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Listen, I…" Ib paused. "I… Maybe I should've been a better… Maybe this is what Garry meant. Maybe… he cared more about others than he cared about himself… cared so much that he let himself go. To save me, and possibly help you out, too. I'm just being an idiot not taking you up as a sister because he let himself go to save me and avoid any more hate. Listen, I… Nah. I'm just thinking of words that aren't there." With a sad smile, she led Mary towards her - no, their - parents' car. Mother was getting impatient inside.

"Come on, Mary. My - no, our - mom must be pissed and we gotta go."

END: Forgiveness of Guilt, Together Forever

-End of Prologue

Last Words: Don't worry, you won't see author's notes this often anymore, but...

Well, that's it for now. I hope I didn't do too bad. Again, enjoy, rate, and review! Don't worry, the "Crossover" part of this story is coming!