cure:
noun
1) A substance or treatment that cures a disease or condition
2) Restoration to health
3) A solution to a problem
synonyms: remedy, treatment, medicine, healing...
~Prologue~
Over the following years, she never completely forgotten that nightmare she had in the Guertena art gallery.
After that nightmare she woke up in front of the rose statue she liked, clutching a single fresh rose in her hands. A lot of things didn't bother her, but at that time she felt really scared and disoriented—like she had forgotten something really important. The rose in her hands only served to worsen that feeling.
She also remembered her meeting with this purple-haired guy. He had been standing by the rose statue as if in a trance, and noticed her frantic state. He talked to her calmly, soothing her after she had that nightmare. She felt at ease immediately, like it wasn't the first time he'd comforted her. She saw a glimpse of a blue rose in his pockets and she inquired about it.
"Oh, this?" he muttered, "It's a rose that I—" he stopped, forgetting. "I don't remember when exactly, but I just have it." A troubled frown etched his friendly face.
That's when she knew that they were connected somehow. It had been a mysterious hunch from out of nowhere.
She extended him her red rose. Showing it to him might trigger something, but he only looked at it curiously.
"Just like this statue here, huh?" He didn't mention it, but she saw his eyes glance at her with certain remembrance.
A second after that her parents came running after her, claiming that she had been gone for more than thirty minutes and that they were worried she'd run off. The purple-haired guy smiled sweetly, charming up to her parents, and telling them he'd just shown her around the museum. It was an obvious lie of course, but this guy played it so smoothly her parents soaked it all up and thanked him for looking after their precious Ib.
"It was nothing really, she was a good girl," he assured, to which her mother was pleased about. She looked up at him thoughtfully and he winked at her. She clutched her mother's hands, blushing slightly.
"Take care Ib…" were his parting words with her as her mother led her away from him. She had felt troubled as he grew further and further away from her, anxious even.
"You too…Garry," she whispered, and that's when she saw his eyes spark up like a flame. He didn't move or flinch though, just as cold and unmoving as the statue next to him, looking out after her longingly until she disappeared in the museum's exit.
~1~
That incident had occurred seven years ago...and yet that nightmare still haunts her and follows her around like a disease—gnawing and eating up her brain. She even told her mom that they had to move out of Tokyo in order for her to be at rest. They did, and they were now residing with her grandparents in Kyoto.
It made things a bit more bearable at best, for at least she knew she was miles apart from that museum, but it still didn't mean that her worries would magically erase. Part of it was frustrating over the fact that she never remembered what the nightmare was, and part of it was of her being frightened at what the hell the nightmare had been. It contrasted and contradicted harshly—being scared of something you don't remember—and it endlessly spun around in her mind that it drove her sleepless at night to the point of insomnia.
In time she learned how to deal with it, growing more quiet and withdrawn as she focused on silencing her sleepless mind. Her parents had tried everything they could possibly do and had given up at some point. Her grandparents left her alone most of the time, while at the same time tried to be supportive…
She loved them, really she did, but there's nothing they could do about it. They didn't know how to cure her; they weren't there with her when she had the nightmare. Nor could she claim she knew how to fix her loose screw. She's cried herself to sleep, taken medication, went to psychiatrists much loonier than she, and cried some more... She simply didn't know what to do anymore.
What she did know was Garry, the guy connected to her nightmare. The only happy bit in her memories was of her meeting him, that was it. Her rose garden contained red, blue, and yellow roses—the blue was a tribute to him, the red for her, and the yellow grew of its own accord one day. She had the garden as a side habit to distract her from the nightmare, and ironically it only made her think about it more.
Plucking a blue rose one day, that's when it hit her: Garry. She needed to find him. A crazy idea had struck her, what if he knew what her nightmare had been? What if…what if he actually had the same nightmare as her that day? That hunch… He could possibly hold all these missing pieces to the puzzle and cure her of this disease. Or maybe she's just really crazy and imagining all this stuff up.
If nothing works, she could at least tell herself that she tried… She could hold on for a couple more days until she find Garry…
She hastily plunked the single blue rose onto a clear vase, filled a quarter full with water. Maybe it would serve as a lucky charm to finding him successfully… She smiled, how pretty… She remembered her grandmother mentioning that the blue rose signified 'impossible miracle'—it fits her situation nicely, because that's exactly what she needs.
~2~
Her plan has been set into motion.
Ib scribbled four personal notes; one for her mother, another for her father, grandma, and grandpa.
To dearest mother,
I'll be gone for awhile. Don't try to look for me. I can't fully promise that I'll be back. Just know that I'm really grateful for your love and support, and I couldn't have gotten this far without you.
Your daughter,
Ib
To dearest father,
I know you'll be mad at me for doing this. But I feel that I have no other choice. Dad, could you not be angry at me just this once? I know you try your best to keep the family as normal as possible, but I'm not normal, dad. You have to let me go. I love you.
Your daughter,
Ib
To dearest grandma,
Grandma, I never told you this but I looked up to you every day. I watched how you tend and magically create beautiful and exotic flowers in your garden. It's what inspired me to have my own rose garden, and I never forgot the day you taught me how to grow blue roses. It really helped, and thank you for everything else.
Your granddaughter,
Ib
P.S. could you please look after my rose garden, grandma?
P.S.S. those yellow roses are really pretty, were you the one that grew them?
To dearest grandfather,
Your tea always helped me to calm down grandfather, thank you. I find that I like your company the most. I could think and think without having to talk to you for hours. It must be hard not being able to talk though…I'm sorry if it seemed that I am praising your disability. I know you probably didn't mind though, I remember you smiled so brightly when we had a game of 'who can stay quiet the longest?' You won, though I think you cheated a little. I love you always.
Your granddaughter,
Ib
She placed the notes neatly on top of the old cabinet drawer by the door, not taking a look back at the home she was leaving behind. There was nothing to look back on, none that could help her anyway.
Garry's the only one she could look up to now. He's her last hope.
With only her backpack, and a little bit of cash, Ib stepped onto the night, lit by the cool luminescence of the full moon. She took a deep breath, feeling the breeze brush past her face in refreshing waves.
Oh how she relished the taste of her first real freedom!
The only time that she did looked back was to bolt their door shut, making sure it's secure and locked.
~3~
She hitchhiked for the first time.
It was a kindly lady at first, sizing her up as a lost kid and even giving her some money for her trip back home. Yeah right, Ib thought.
Then it was a couple who was on their way to their honeymoon. "Tokyo should be pretty close now…" The man muttered. His breath's perpetually minty fresh as he chewed strip after strip of gum that never ran out, while his wife kept looking at her with spiteful looks; it was obvious she wanted to kick her out on the highway the moment she clambered in. Eventually the woman convinced her husband to drop her off at the nearest gas station. Not that Ib particularly minded.
"It's only a couple minutes walk to Tokyo now. See the skyscrapers? It shouldn't be too hard for you. Take care." He spoke through a sticky wad of gum in his teeth.
"Thank you for the ride." Ib bowed respectfully.
"No problem" and the couple drove off, leaving behind dust for her to choke on. The woman's probably dancing now.
Ib decided to buy a couple of gas station food first before setting off to Tokyo. She entered the grimy shop and walked quietly over the snack aisle. She was addicted to the stuff now, back at home junk food was a big never.
She stashed over a dozen Pocky boxes, Pinky candies, Pucca Chocolate, skipped over the chewing gum (it was too soon), and bought lots and lots of pre-packaged onigiri—her new favorite! After buying the stuff she sat outside the shop and brought her backpack to her lap.
Let's see… What should I eat first? She looked through her black backpack beneath the dim lighting of a single lamp post. It was flooded with the food she just bought, and yet the thing that captured her attention was her roses wilting away in the bottom. Oh no! Ib mentally gasped. The roses!
She went inside the shop in a mad dash and grabbed for the nearest water bottle in the cooler, slapping a couple of yen in the counter and going back outside. Ib twisted the cap off and poured the excess water onto the ground.
Gently, gently she held the roses (one blue, one red) and placed them inside the water bottle. The blue has considerably wilted more than the red one. It was her good luck charm! Was this a sign from above telling her that this mission was hopeless? Ib shook her head, cupping her hands around the cold water bottle. She trailed her fingers across the soft and browning petals, breathing deeply.
Impossible miracle
She'll find it soon…in Tokyo, in the art gallery.
~4~
It turned out that it took her thirty-minutes by foot to reach Tokyo from the gas station. She held out her map which she conveniently marked before setting out. The art gallery was another twenty-minute walk from where she is right now.
She watched as her brown leather shoes swung one after another, swimming across the pale gray concrete. Many people bumped at her and strolled past her, not caring at the people surrounding them, concentrating so intently on their own bubble and destination.
She wondered if he was just here, walking amongst these endless sea of people.
She walked and walked, realizing that she never did liked growing up in Tokyo. It was too distant and impersonal. It was a good thing they moved when they did; the prospects of her ever liking her hometown aren't looking too good, and she probably will never be able to.
Walking head-on carelessly, Ib didn't notice the man obstructing her path. She crashed onto him, sending her falling on the ground…hard.
~5~
Her eyes refocused, bleary nicks of lights piercing into her vision… She saw him, Garry, extending out his hand to her…just like when she woke up from her nightmare as a kid.
"Miss… Miss… Miss…"
She held out her hand for him to take, only to realize it wasn't Garry.
"Miss, I'm so sorry. I did not see you walking in front of me. We need to get you to the hospital…" The man fidgeted nervously on his jacket pocket and pulled out a cell phone, his sweaty fingers ready to type the emergency line. Ib stopped him.
"No hospital, it's alright, just a slight bump." Ib looked around, and realized the sea of bodies merely parted around her and the man, skittering heedlessly without stop.
Roaches, Ib bitterly thought.
"B-But you're bleeding!" The man bit his lip and pulled out a thick wad of tissue from the other pocket of his jacket. He pressed it carefully on the back of Ib's head.
"You should at least rest a moment. My name's Daniel." The man held her shoulders, leading her away from the art gallery.
"I shouldn't. I need to go; I'm looking for someone…" Ib muttered, stepping away from his grip.
"Not in this condition. Look maybe I can help you."
Ib felt something snap in her brain… How dare he?
"How can you? You don't know what I've been through… I have this stupid fear, I haven't slept in days, I'm looking for someone who might possibly be my last hope, and I don't know where he is! How? Tell me how you can help me, huh?!" Ib had never lost it like this. No one had irritated her as much as this guy has, ever. This emotion…is she finally at the end of her rope? Is she cracking now after years and years of being weighed down under this pressure? Why? When she finally thought she could help herself…
Daniel stood motionless on the sidewalk, his face a mixture of shock and anger. Look, he was just trying to help! What's with her?
"I-I didn't mean to sound as if I wanted to solve all your problems, I—"
"I'm sorry. Forget what I said," Ib replied blankly.
At that moment the bus came, stopped, and a whole bunch of monotone bodies flooded around its open door.
Daniel refused to leave this injured girl by herself, whether she liked it or not.
Without so much as a push, they were both caught in the wave and were inside the crowded bus.
~6~
She was currently in Mr. Daniel's apartment. At first Ib had been so angry at the fact that her plan had just turn around and slapped her right in the face—haha, thought things would work out, huh? WRONG! But she stayed quiet like she always does, and eventually it passed. That's how it always worked.
Besides, she craved a good meal and a roof right now.
She checked her backpack, taking out her roses in their portable no-spill vase (she just poked a hole in the middle of the plastic cap and slipped the roses inside, twisting the cap tightly so it didn't spill water). They had lacked sunlight, so now she placed them right on top of a window sill where sunlight streamed in aplenty.
The roses brought her peace; a slice of tranquility if even for a moment.
Ib rested her arms in the window sill, laying her head between the nest of her arms as she stared through the glass… outside into Tokyo.
Garry, I know you're out there somewhere…
"Sorry I snapped at you earlier…" Ib mumbled. She turned around to look at Mr. Daniel preparing some American food in his kitchen. It smelt so good it rattled her stomach and made it echo, reminding her how hungry she was.
"Don't mind it. I've just about forgotten it already till you reminded me of it. Is your head feeling all right?"
Earlier Mr. Daniel had cleaned her wound and bandaged it. He admitted he was training to be a surgeon, and offered to stitch up her head. Ib flatly refused.
"Perfectly fine"
"Good, help me set the table won't you?"
Ib finished setting up the table and Mr. Daniel presented the food which made her mouth water. She peeked at it, examining it...most curious, yet perfectly delectable.
"It's 'hamburger mac and cheese', mom used to make it a lot, and I guess it's a family recipe—sort of. Well dig in!" Mr. Daniel scooped in a decent amount for him and Ib.
Ib said her graces first before laying a finger on her food.
"Of course, of course…" Daniel murmured. His cheeks slightly burned for forgetting to pray.
There was a brief silence, "…And I'd like to thank Mr. Daniel for taking me in for the night and taking care of me…" Daniel smiled and looked over at Ib as she finished her prayer. "Thank you" Daniel repeated.
Even though her appetite at the moment was that of a wolf, Ib remained respectful and spooned in her first hamburger mac and cheese in careful bites.
Wow it's so good! Ib wore a grin as she finished her bowl.
"Glad you enjoyed it—just a tad bit more than I expected," Daniel chuckled lightly. He stood up, cleaning up the dishes. "So tell me, what are you trying to find in Tokyo?" His back was turned to her, and she couldn't figure out his bearing.
Ib was torn, should she just tell him? Mr. Daniel had been more than kind enough, but he might judge her and send her off to the nearest mental ward—just like any of them would do.
"I'm looking for someone. He's the only chance I have of…ever recovering."
'Recovering' had a nice ring to it.
"Oh, is it a doctor, family, friend?" Water gushed powerfully from the sink and it almost drowned his words out.
Ib paused for a long awhile, "Friend."
"Now you said you were looking for him. Don't you know where he is?"
"I have a clue, when I bumped into you I was on my way to the art gallery."
"The art gallery? You mean the one they closed down?" His hands swiftly dried and placed the plates back to the dish rack. Daniel wiped his hands dry and looked back at Ib's horrified expression.
"Oh…I'm truly sorry," he didn't mean to alarm Ib, much less upset her. Daniel quickly explained, "They closed down the art gallery a year ago. I'm hazy on the details, but it was something about the paintings being too disturbing or something like that. A shame, shame..."
She stayed silent—she never once thought the possibility of the art gallery closing down. Everything's screwed up at this point and she's at her limit. Garry was lost, her hope was lost... Everything!
Daniel sat down in the table, assessing Ib with a concerned frown.
"What's the problem? I can try to help."
And before she could help it, her mouth reached out to his offer and began to explain to him everything.
~7~
Mr. Daniel walked Ib up to the police department.
"We'd like to visit Garry S." Daniel formally requested. He took out their visitor's permit and showed it to the officer.
The police behind the desk flicked a thumb towards the second hallway. "Room 6, you get thirty-minutes."
"Thanks"
Of all places! A jail had not been in her list of places to look for Garry. It had been such a shock to her, especially since she's kept such an innocent image of him in her mind. But she could blame the years for that, for all she knew he'd been accused of being crazy too. She suddenly had the feeling that meeting him would be all too familiar.
What had been more surprising to Ib though was Mr. Daniel.
He believed her. He didn't call her crazy. He didn't talk to her in circles, nor did he reach for the phone to call a psychiatrist. He listened, and actually gave her the best reply she could had ever hoped for…
"I know Garry"
He went on to explain this art junkie he'd met in the art gallery before it closed down a year ago—Garry.
"He was easy to talk to, but he always had moments when he just 'drop' out of the conversation and became quiet. I knew he had a problem, but it didn't stop me from talking to him. The guy knew the paintings there like the back of his hand and he explained every one of them to me in excellent detail. Then one day he suddenly just stopped going to the art gallery. I asked around and another regular visitor told me he got arrested for drug possession."
A police stood by the door, for a second he looked them up and down, and he stepped aside, opening the door…
Garry was there sitting down, older, but basically the same. Purple hair and curly, there was the tiniest impression of a beard beginning to grow, and his eyes—it looked tired most of all, like it never had a wink of sleep. Just like her…
There was a settlement of dust as the slight draft from the open door blew in. It landed on the table separating Daniel and Ib from Garry.
The silence drew on longer than it should have, causing Ib to tense up and tightly clutch on the black strap of her backpack.
Daniel faked a cough, "Hello Garry. This is Ib." Ok, so much for subtlety; but the time was ticking, good icebreaker or not.
"I know who she is Daniel. Hello Ib." His voice was warm, but his face was pale. He kept a calm composure.
Ib's fingers slackened from the strap and she let it fall on her sides. "Hello Garry." She slowly stepped up and placed her backpack on the table. She unzipped it, aware that two pairs of eyes were boring down on her.
She took out her water bottle of roses, placing it squarely on the center of the table. The room was quiet.
Garry looked at it, mesmerized. "I missed it, my blue rose…" his long arm stretched out across the table, plucking it out the bottle.
"My grandma taught me how to grow them. It reminded me of you."
Garry looked at Ib, a tiny smile on his face. "Thank you Ib. That means a lot."
He never changed; he's still friendly like in my memory. Ib felt so relieved. All this time she was preparing herself on meeting a delinquent, but no—he was the same familiar friend.
"It was nothing; I grew them to keep me distracted from the—nightmares," Ib replied softly.
"Oh, you still have it? I don't understand…" Garry looked thoroughly worried. His eyes immediately locked onto Ib's, anxious.
"She needs your help," Daniel interjected from the corner. Garry turned to shoot Daniel with an accusatory look.
"What are you—?"
"I know… I know you had the same nightmare as me. I can see it in your eyes, plain as day." Ib stated gravely.
He was taken aback. It was simple, Ib wasn't a child anymore. He couldn't trick his way with a smile or pretend everything's going to be okay. She's suffered just as much as I have…
Above all, she deserved the truth.
He sighed, breathing out all the worries and the tiredness. He really needed to smoke something now.
Before his lips could even form his next word, the police from outside the door barged in, reminding Daniel and Ib their thirty minutes was up.
Ib stood up, "No! Give us thirty more minutes please!" Her voice cracked.
She was on the edge, the cliff… She was looking down on the abyss below, ready to plunge down, and feel the air…
Garry stood by her, touching her shaking shoulder with his calloused fingers.
"Next time, the next time…I'm not going anywhere. Please Ib, you have to go."
She sharply turned around and pushed her arms forward, wrapping it around him in a tight embrace… You'll have to promise me you'll never let go. Ib clutched Garry like a lifeline, as if she'd drown in her miseries at any second.
Garry felt a lump grow on his throat… Wait? I'm I crying? A drop fell onto Ib's hair; it slid down from his cheeks and was caught on a strand, inching down.
He couldn't… He couldn't let go either.
Is it because, they both know each other's pain so well? They hold onto each other, knowing that—they've found acceptance and resemblance in their suffering.
The police grunted. Daniel cleared his throat.
"You can keep the roses." Ib loosened herself from Garry, suddenly feeling conscious of herself.
"I appreciate that," Garry replied simply; equally as conscious.
She stepped back, hands around her backpack. "Bye, Garry... I'll come again soon." Her feet stood on the axis—the doorway.
He stood there, watching her go. Watch her feet take another step and another, and when she took that corner she was gone, and he was here…trapped.
Please come, come again as fast as you can. I need you.
~8~
That night she slept.
Her mind was clear, she dreamt not of dreams—everything at a standstill where she just floated in a cloud.
She's never had such a sleep in weeks, months without the heavy dose of sleeping pills. The only thing occupying her mind was Garry. The thought of him brought her peace. Laying in her bed, closed off in the darkness…she held her hope, and she rested undisturbed.
The next morning, Daniel had yet again surprised her. He'd dug around last night in his own college fund and took enough money to bail out Garry.
"Mr. Daniel you're an angel!" Ib exclaimed; hugging the man she'd only known for the past twenty-four hours.
"It's nothing. Garry's a friend too, and I want to help out."
"Really it's so generous and selfless of you. Why have you the heart to help this little girl out?"
Was it okay to tell her that he just felt sorry for her—a lonely girl so distant, walking across the urban streets of Tokyo looking for a lost friend? It broke his heart, it really did, but he also believed in the quote: 'Everything happens for a reason.' Her bumping into him, it must have been set up from above.
"I had a hunch I could help you, and I followed it."
"Good hunch," Ib remarked. She felt so refreshed, like shedding old skin that's long been dried out. The sleep was a miracle!
"You had a good sleep?" Daniel asked, noticing the sudden uplift of Ib's spirit.
"Very" she replied with a grin.
~9~
He was out. She tried to keep her excitement in.
Garry! Finally!
She couldn't wrestle with her feelings like she always did this time. Her head overflowed with anticipation, enthusiasm, and dread…
Garry thanked Daniel about a million times over, never forgetting to say 'thanks' by the end of his sentences. Daniel humbly dismissed him, saying 'it was nothing' just as much as Garry said his 'thanks'.
Ib idly watched the two of them chatter, thoroughly assimilating his presence in her mind. He's here, outside of prison. I guess now I'll know the truth at any moment… Garry walked over to her side. "Thank you too Ib," smile, smile, smile.
Ib looked up at him, her mouth not cooperating, "…". Why the heck did he have to be so happy for? She folded her hands together behind her back, squeezing them uncomfortably.
He laughed, "Why have you gotten shy all of a sudden? Here I thought 'Ib finally grew up to be a serious lady' last night," he teased.
Ib remained cold. "Give Garry a hug?" He bit his lip in a cute pleading way; arms spread out to glomp her.
She hesitated, but ultimately allowed herself to feel his warmth—soft, so soft... She melted inside.
"You'll tell me everything that I need to know." Ib looked up at him, his eyes looking down.
"Yeah," he nodded.
He released her, suddenly walking as if possessed by some unknown force. Garry didn't turn back, his long legs walking at a steady pace until they reached the prison's exit.
He was out, free. Now a new chapter begins…whatever it may be.
~10~
Daniel brought them coffee to drink.
Garry's mouth was a work of magic as he spun and spun golden threads of words.
Ib drank it all up.
Three people, around a table, and all the pieces have finally come together.
Garry never missed a beat, Ib remained quiet. She remembered it after all—everything.
Once he finished, she questioned: "Why did you keep it a secret from me?" Her tone was passive, yet it edged just a hair away from bitterness.
She finished her black coffee. In her fingertips she twirled the packet of sugar Daniel offered with it. She didn't like that. Why mask its bitter taste with sugar? It tastes sweet, but you're just fooling yourself. It's still black; all black in the end.
He chose his words carefully, "I never wanted you to remember. I thought, 'hell if what had happened was too much for me, how much worse would it be for you?' So I kept quiet, thought you'd slip by and get some sleep every night. Well, I was wrong…" He didn't have to say it; guilt was squirming out of every word he said. If he had known...
"The nightmare never let me go; it held me on a tight leash. Every night since then I either didn't slept or had sleep plagued with visions of it. I was scared, but didn't know of what… It's comforting now to know that it had been reality. That my emotions were real, and not conjured up by some sick, psychotic mind. So thank you."
Her response confused him, turned his brain upside down… He stared at her, his eyes breaking down. His teeth was clenched, hands gripped roughly on his legs. "What for? For making you suffer? No, that's not appropriate Ib. I deserve something worse."
"Garry." She did not want to punish him or make him feel indebted to her, no. Ib touched his cold hands delicately, "What you've done is enough. I just had to know everything from you."
A burden was lifted in his heart. He closed his other hand above hers, "I hope you'll forgive me anyway."
"If anything needed to be forgiven, you've more than made it up back in the art gallery."
Were angels even this nice?
Garry couldn't resist it and he hugged her—suddenly pulling her small self into his arms and burying her on his chest. Ib…
"Glad that's out of the way," Daniel crisply stated in the corner. He stood up, brushing off his role as an awkward third wheeler. He went by the kitchen, refilling his coffee mug.
Unfortunately for Ib, she couldn't dismiss the awkwardness that easily.
"Garry…" she mumbled through his shirt.
"Hmm?" he replied sweetly, holding her in his arms.
"I can't breathe."
"Oh! Ib!" Garry practically leapt out of his chair. "Are you ok? Are you breathing fine? Did I hurt you?" He looked so thoroughly worried, deeming it as a serious personal crime. The thought of going back to jail crossed his mind.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. No need to fuss over me like my mother does," Ib replied calmly. Inside, she actually cherishes the overprotective side of Garry. It makes her feel safe.
"Mr. Daniel more coffee please?"
"Sure" the coffee guy finally had a job.
~11~
Goodbyes were painful, but a promise of return made things a lot easier.
Daniel made sure that her promise was well and good. "Make sure you stop by Tokyo once in a while. It's not so bad; you'll just have to adjust to its modern culture." The matter of just adjusting was not even an option to her. She only promised she'll return for him and not for Tokyo, if she did the "goodbye" will be absolute. Daniel didn't try to persuade her after that.
As for Garry… He said he'll follow her. It was a creepy thing to say, as if he'll be her stalker or something. She didn't know what to say to him. Maybe she didn't mind it.
"Don't you have a home?" Ib asked.
"No, if I did I would have felt it. A 'home is where you belong' they say, but I didn't belong to anything. I really feel closer to 'home' when I see you, and that's why I decided I'll follow you!" He proclaimed this proudly, like it was the best statement he'd ever made.
"Oh" Ib mumbled. She was lost for words. This guy basically told her she's all he has.
Now what?
She took his hand, shaking it. "Welcome to my family. My grandparents wouldn't mind taking you in."
Garry's eyes widened, "Really?! Are you serious Ib?" He couldn't believe it! If this is a dream, please don't ever wake me up.
Ib smiled, "Yeah". She felt so happy, the sparkle in his eyes reflected in hers.
"Oh Ib! Thank you! Thank you!" Garry picked her up by the waist and twirled her in the air like a doll. She held on tightly, laughing.
"Now you won't have to be alone, right?"
Garry dropped Ib down gently, "Yeah… I love you Ib." He bent down, planting a kiss on her forehead.
Ib felt something squeeze her heart. Was it pain? Was it anxiety? Or was it because…it was joy?
"I—"
Think! THINK!
"Love you too…" She took a deep breath. Yeah, I love you too…I really can't explain it. You make me feel a lot of things, but most of all you've given me a cure—which was you.
They looked at each other, staring…
Really, you love me?
Yeah, I really do.
Their eyes gave each other these silent communications, and somehow they understood it.
Ib broke the silence first, "Let's go home."
Garry held her hand, squeezing it tenderly. "Good idea."
And together they finally set out—free of nightmares or shadows. They had a clear conscience, made by a happy reunion and a memory that was restored. True, the bad things never really leave you, but at least they were together, and that made a whole lot of difference.
~X~
a/n: Thank you for reading!
fyi: yes, Daniel's an OC. He's around Garry's age so about 22-23 years old. He has short brown hair: half messy half neat, and he's almost as tall as Garry. Ib's also 17 years old here if you guys didn't do the math.
Disclaimer: cover art used not mine! This beautiful fan art belongs to: KasnovA on DA. And of course ya'll know Ib and Garry was made by the wonderful Kouri.
That iz all, good day!