Disclaimer: I don't own Ib.
The Other Portrait
"Ib! Grab my hand!"
Her gaze lingered on me for just a moment, and she walked away.
"Ib!.. No..."
I shook my head.
"What are you doing?"
She didn't look back.
I pressed my hands against the canvas but there was no way out.
"Ib!"
"Are you alright, mister?"
I glanced at the attendant beside me. My hands were shaking. I couldn't remember what I'd been doing.
"I'm... I'm fine. Must've... spaced out."
"You were yelling at the painting."
I was?
Fabricated World, it was called.
"Really?"
"Yeah. Eve, you said."
"O-oh."
That was strange...
The attendant walked away and I stared back at the painting. Nothing out of the ordinary. I walked off in a daze.
I didn't really notice any more artwork until I stopped in front of a sculpture of a rose entitled "Embodiment of Spirit". Something about it-
"Excuse me, mister," a woman said, tapping my shoulder. I turned around. She looked vaguely familiar...
"Yes?"
"My daughter's gone missing," she said, an urgent look on her face. "She's nine years old, about this tall..."
She gestured with her hand.
"She was wearing a red skirt, and, and, oh, her name is Eve..."
"Eve?"
Her eyes brightened.
"Yes, Eve! Have you seen her?"
I bit my lip, feeling guilty about getting her hopes up, and shook my head.
"No, I'm sorry..."
Her face fell.
"Alright. Thank you, though."
She walked away and I stared after her, then back at the rose.
"Eve would've been a better name for you," I whispered, then walked away, feeling as though I was losing something very important with every step.