Disclaimer: I do not own Ib or any of the elements in the game. They belong to their respective owner, Kouri. I am merely using them for my own creative amusement.

AN: Have I mentioned how fabulous you people are? Thank you for the favourites, reviews and follows C: Have an internet cookie (cookie) and hug (hug) and mid-week post C: I quite liked this chapter when I first wrote it anyway, so there wasn't much to edit, just bits to add on. Hope y'all have a great (rest of your) week! Thanks for stopping by C: Happy reading!

Song recommendations: *Igor Stravinsky - Trois mouvements de Petrouchka Movt. 3: La Semaine Grasse **Zedd – Spectrum (Piano version) [Oh look, something not classical for once! :3] ***Beethoven – Piano Sonata No. 8 in C Minor, Op. 13 – "Pathetique" – 2. Adagio Cantabile


Chapter 6:

Japan, 2003

-11 years after the Guertena Art Museum-

*The first time Ib saw her, she froze in place as they locked eyes. Only when the little girl smiled heavenly and walk out of the room did Ib remember to breath. Her face haunted her for days.

The second time Ib saw her, she became agitated, not knowing what to say to the child who mirrored her old friend so clearly. From her loneliness to her isolated cheeriness, she was a perfect replica. The child briefly looked up from her sketchbook and made no visible reaction, going back and giving more care and attention to the flower she was drawing.

The third time Ib saw her, she gave a tentative smile and was met with a cold response. For those few weeks, all the little girl did was stared at her. When her back was turned and neck started tingling, Ib knew that the little girl had begun her amusing game of seeing who would break first.

Ib didn't believe in favouritism or seclusion of any child while she was around. She endeavoured to make all of the children happy in the best way she could. Therefore, she always lost. Ib turned in her piano seat to look at the girl for the hundredth time, giving her a genuinely warm smile again, hand beckoning for the girl in the corner of the room to join the other children.

Once again, like every other time, she shook her head.

Hugging her knees to her chest tightly, she made herself comfortable and leaned back. She sat quietly in her own little bubble in the corner and listened. Enthralled by the sound of the piano, she was quite clearly enjoying the music by the dazed little smile on her face.

When Ib finished, it was nap time. As usual, the little girl disappeared.

The next day, Ib came a little earlier than usual. She saw the little girl surrounded by numerous crumpled drawings and crayons. She looked to be concentrating on her latest art work. Slowly, Ib walked to her and sat down close by. "Good—"

"You're not allowed to see it until it's done! Go away!" The little girl quickly covered the drawing with her long green sleeves and glared at Ib, seemingly crossed at her before the older woman barely even said a word.

Surprised by her antics, Ib grinned a little before covering her mouth and stepping back quietly. The little girl with angelic gold hair and blue eyes scowled even further and resumed her effort. Ib went to play with the other children who came out and left her to her own devices.

The little girl looked up and her expression saddened a little, face dropping at the picture. She placed the crayon down and looked at her masterpiece carefully, scrutinising with great detail. She harrumphed and scrunched it up, starting over once more. She would have nothing less than perfect.

Ib came earlier again the following day and was greeted by a sight of a cherubic face and winning yet shy smile. The little girl was blushing and looking away, holding up a picture of Ib smiling, a red rose in her hair and a yellow one in her hand. The woman in the picture was wearing a red dress and sitting by a piano, similar to her view from her corner in the play area.

Her heart swelled at the sight of the lovely picture, shocked by such affection for her. Ib came closer and bent one knee, making sure to keep eye contact with the little girl. She gave her a bright smile and took the picture from her hand. The nurses walking around gave curious looks to the duo that looked like mother and child, despite the differences in looks.

"It's so beautiful. Is this for me?" She nodded. Encouraged, Ib continued. "What's your name? I'm Ib."

"I'm Mary." Ibsmiled gently at her, almost tearing up, glad to have finally overcome this frightening wall.

"It's wonderfully to finally meet you now, Mary. You're very talented"

"Thank you!" The little girl practically sparkled with the way she was praised.

Ever since that day, Ib always came a little earlier for Mary, forging a very strong bond with the little girl. She didn't want to play favourites, but the girl was intensely possessive, refusing to share Ib with other people. She played alone when the other children came out and refused to look at Ib except when she played the piano. Ib thought of the extra time as her only time to bond with Mary, and relented when the child asked her to stay a little longer in her room.

It was the same room she had stumbled upon about two months ago and was startled by. Angelic Mary had the looks, the interests and the passion and energy from the Mary from the demonic art gallery. Even their dispositions were very similar, yet she appeared to have no recollection of such an event. She didn't look at Ib with a crazed look in her eye and seemed to love instead of hate her, as if she hadn't destroyed her all those years ago.

Mary was eager to play, be it with crayons or her strange blue dolls. The little girl had even made a fresh new one for Ib to take home. She had a talent for sewing as well as drawing. Unlike the other children, Ib never saw anyone visiting and she wondered why. Mary was a delight to know, a joy to be around. The other nurses seemed puzzle at her behaviour and Ib noticed how the other children seemed... afraid of Mary.

"Hey," she softly greeted them after leaving Mary in her room. "I'm curious. Why doesn't Mary play with the other children?" The nurses looked nervously at each other, trying to form words to express their sentiments.

"Mary plays very rough and it scares the others. We decided it would be best if we didn't encourage her. You see, she has these tantrums if things don't go right. It's not the usual childish ones either. For a sick patient, Mary's very strong. She broke another child's arm once and destroyed a good majority of the toys donated."

Ib's eyes went round at the story she was hearing.

"It's strange though, she's well-behaved with you around, Miss. She's taken a strong liking to you. When you leave, she's grumpy until you come back the next time. She hates the fact you won't be coming regularly soon enough."

She understood the little girl's behaviour a bit better. Possessive and dominating, she was the queen of the playground, the other children her fearful subjects. Even the older ones tended to stay away from her. Ib knew that she had to try get Mary to change if she wanted her to be happier. Mary couldn't always depend on her for entertainment and she wouldn't always have time for her. Knowing from experience the time limit, Ib would be kind and gentle, if no one else would be, to the little girl.

She would be damn sure to make her as happy as possible before her time was up.

"One more question, please? Does anyone from outside the hospital visit Mary?"

"Only you, miss." It was just as she suspected.

"Why?"

The other nurse discreetly pinched the woman she was talking to quite hard when she opened her mouth. The girl grimaced and bit her lip. She looked at Ib, eyes pleading.

"Patient confidentiality, miss. You understand, don't you?"

She gave a resigned sigh and nodded, leaving the nurse's station.

"It's perfectly fine. See you soon."

xIxBx

Japan, 2004

-12 years after the Guertena Art Museum-

"If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call. We're more than happy to help." He led the charmed teenage boy out of the shop and waved him goodbye. He stood still for a moment, finally snapping out of his trance to nod and run off, a hint of a blush colouring his features. Garry flipped the sign on the door and made sure he faced away from the glass door before face-palming, glaring at the amused smile on his mother's cheerful face.

"That was not funny."

"I beg to differ," she chuckled, unable to hold it in, "He has a huge crush on you, it's really cute. Keeps him coming back to spend his money, or breaking things to make you fix them."

"I have enough trouble ignoring the sea of girls, I don't need boys too." He gently took the broom from his mother's strong grip and walked to the backroom, where a small kitchenette resided along with a cupboard, table and chairs. He took off the shop apron in the next room, his workshop, where he usually stayed to craft in his free time or fix a client's broken items. "It's lunch time, Ma. You don't have to do all these things. There's something I want to talk about."

"We can talk after lunch dear."

Sakura took out the food she had packed onto whatever tableware the cupboards offered. The smell of food wafted all the way into Garry's workshop and he drifted out, unable to resist the allure of a meal. Once they were both settled and eating, Garry waited until it was the right time to ask. He struck when Sakura was wiping her lips with a handkerchief.

"Ma, why aren't you painting anymore?" She paused, looking up at him. "You hardly spend any time at home now too, especially when I'm not around. Something to share, Ma?"

"I'm just taking care of you. I'm honestly surprised you haven't gotten asthma from all of this dust. You shouldn't be lazy and do nothing when there are no customers. Pick up a broom and—"

"Mother, stop."

Silence lulled between the two of them.

"We used to get on so well but lately you've been picking on every little thing I do or don't do." He placed his chopsticks down and looked at her flushed face closely. "I'm a full grown adult; I've been an adult since I moved out. I should be taking care of you, not the other way round."

"Garry, I only want what's best for you. I'm much more experienced than you are and you should listen to whatever your mother says."

"Does that also mean allowing your mother to control every single aspect of your life?"

"Garry—"

"Back to my original question, Ma. Why?"

She shifted in her seat before standing up and collecting the dishes. She dumped them in the sink and forcefully squirted the dishwashing liquid to a sponge. "Art blocks. I can't paint anymore. No one wants my paintings, no one appreciates them." She scrubbed down extra hard at the plate in hand. Garry sighed.

"That's not true—"

"I've cleaned the house and it's sparkling. I've re-organised everything and it's all in order. Alphabetical, according to author, according to year of release; I've done it. There's not a single speck of dust or a single leaf of weed in the garden." She turned the faucet and rinsed, placing them down for drying later. "I miss my only son and I don't see him enough." She turned back towards him, glassy eyed. "Is that so bad?

"I visit you every night, after work."

"I don't see anything wrong with moving back in. The house is too empty as it is."

"I'm thirty years old; I'm supposed to be independent."

"You just don't want to live with me, don't you? Stubborn. Just like your father. You hardly do anything I say, always having your own agenda—" Garry slammed the table with both hands and stood, seething.

"Pa. Everything comes down right back to Pa, doesn't it?" he stomped over to the coat rack and grabbed his hooded jacket. "You wanted me to dye my hair black every year during his anniversary? I did. You wanted me to give up my life's dream to entertain an old man's wishes? Sure, why not? Stop wearing heels? Yes. Stop talking femininely to customers? Fine!"

She sighed and crossed her arms, shaking her head. "You should really move on, Garry. Your father-"

"That's rich Ma, unbelievable. I'm not the one who was depressed, who's prone to panic attacks. I don't hurt people when my head is too full of anger to process anything!"

She dropped a glass cup. It smashed on the floor.

Silence echoed through the room.

He looked down. Garry's hands curled into fists, absolutely ashamed of himself. He blinked his eyes, suddenly conscious of his left. He made his tone softer, his voice a bit milder.

"You miss him, so you hang out here to forget, don't you?" She still hadn't moved a muscle. He shifted his eyes away, suddenly angry again. "Look, I'm not a toy. Stay as long as you want, I'm going out."

He stormed out and slammed the door shut, rattling the sign on the door. She leaned against the sink counter. Sakura pressed her palms against her eyes for a few moments and her cool facade dropped to that of a crumbling woman. She breathed deeply and let go of the pressure against her eyelids. Sniffing loudly, she composed herself and straightened her posture. She cleaned up the mess of glass. Looking at the clock, there was still half an hour of lunch break left. Despite the added weight to her fragile old heart, she went to the front and flipped the sign to Open. Smiling and nodded to the people idling on the streets, a group of young girls nudged each other and giggled, walking slowly but surely to the shop.

Misery loves company after all.

xIxBx

Garry stalked off, unaware of the direction his feet was taking him. Wandering around town for a few hours, he finally settled down in the park, plonking on the bench nearby. There was a lot more people than usual, considering it was a partially cloudy, yet still beautiful Saturday afternoon. He spotted the annoyingly cheerful birds chirping out a sweet harmony on the top of a nearby fountain and he scowled, reminded of his mistakes at every turn.

"Troubled times, eh Gareth?" A familiar scent of lavender and camomile drifted towards him and he slumped even further, using his foreman to support his head. He gave a short nod at the woman who sat down next to him and opened her book.

He massaged his temples and sighed. "I need a break. I've had it with bossy women and giggling fan-girls and fan-boys. Can't I have some space? Can't I not have nightmares and screw-ups? Can't I just not have any weird, awful romance in my life with meddling, interfering people?" He looked directly at Marilyn with the final statement. She grinned and simply shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. She cleared her throat and shut her book. Garry looked at her, curious.

** "It's all about balance in this world, from my experience. Take your break sure, but you have to come back to the chaos sometime. Dark and light. Happiness and sadness. Love and hate." She paused. "I suppose if you truly wanted a fulfilling life, you'd make sure to include everything, the good and the bad. Juggle the emotions, balance your priorities and fly away from earthly pleasures."

He thought about the years spent holding on to a childish hope when the bitter cynic inside knew better. He thought about trying to escape the nightmare by exploring new lands, learning new things and meeting new people. He thought about how he wasn't suited for love, how he was far too distant for someone like Melissa and jaded for someone like Kina. He was completely fine with the solitary, bachelor lifestyle.

"You're a person who's nice to look at, nice to converse with, but doesn't let a lot of people in emotionally, do you?"

"Maybe."

"Balance is everything, Gareth. There's a monster and angel inside each of us. It's all about how we restrained them or set them free. I'm teaching my literature students The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Very interesting book, have you heard of it?"

"Mm."

He drops his head into his hands and wondered how to pose his question, almost unaware of her continuing chatter about said interesting book.

"What about what ifs... or someone very special to you. Do you hold on, do you let go?" The dull ache that always accompanied the thought of her filled his chest. He looked up into the sad blue eyes of his friend.

"And back to this. You stalk her on Facebook?"

He stared at her, confused at the term. "What's a Face... book?"

"Too busy working to be social networking, huh? Try it one day, it'd be pretty useful to make your shop grow too if you want it to expand—"

"—I... don't." The silence hung between them and Marilyn scanned his normally open expressions when he was with her. Today, everything was locked. "God, what is with women avoiding questions today?" he muttered, baffled by the similar behaviour both his mother and Marilyn adopted. Marilyn heard him and patted him playfully on the head, despite the graveness of her tone.

"It depends on situation to situation. I can't help you with that, Gareth. That's something you have to decide on your own." He gave another sigh and looked at the red rose bushes and lovey-dovey couples once more, sick of love. He was just so sick of everything.

"I came to the park to read with the nice weather, but the clouds look a little ominous." She grinned at him. "I'll leave you to your moping, although you never told me about this girl before. It's not Kina is it?"

He stared blankly at her and she laughed, looking much younger than usual. She walked off and waved, jogging away when he waved back. Garry wondered how she looked and acted ten years younger than her actual age. Looking at the skies overhead, he decided it was time to go before he ended up getting caught in the cold rain himself.

xIxBx

She had never been here before, and yet she had never felt more at home. It was beautiful, comforting and inviting. It was an older part of the shopping district and far more secluded than the rest, but it was equally if not more enchanting than the rest. Well lit and warm, as opposed to the dreary weather outside, the cosy little shop offered no reason for a customer to leave.

"Welcome, young lady! Do ask if you need any assistance." Ib greeted the kind old lady sweeping behind the counter with a shy smile and nodded her head quietly. She appreciated the effort to make her as comfortable as possible.

As she browsed through the collections, she couldn't help but think how gorgeous the little crafts are, and how talented the maker was. She picked up a queen from a wooden chess set and marvelled at the miniature people, details on her determined little face cut so clearly. 'I never thought wood could come alive.'

Ayden had told her she had discovered a shop selling all sorts of wonderful wooden crafts that would be great as present to any child. The implied insult was directed at Ib, but she took it as a hint for the children of different hospitals, especially Mary. The little girl still had a many long months before turning ten, but Ib wanted to be prepared, just in case. She never had a lot of friends when she was younger. A good majority of the play dates were for Eve.

Ib smiled at the thought of her little sister getting excited over the rocking horse that she spotted. It would be very typical of the energetic Eve. She discovered another little section which had something that interested her very well, especially in her field. She walked back to the counter.

"Excuse me, do you offer services that cater to customised merchandises?"

"Yes we do, our young woodcarver has quite the talent. Unfortunately, he's currently... unavailable... at the moment. You can give him a call in the next few days if you're still interested. Here's his business card."

"Oh, thank you!"

Ib took the simple, small card and spotted the name Gareth. She had walked halfway through one aisle and looked back at the weathered face of the woman staring at the windows. Her eyes were scanning the faces of the crowds, almost as if determined to see a loved one there. She held back her questions and looked towards the toy section.

'There's more than one person named Gareth, Ib. Don't be silly.' Both lost in thought, Ib walked back to the wooden rocking horse and browsed through the other classic toys she played as a child.

Floating from one section to another, she was so immersed in the beauty each craft presented that time slipped without notice. Before long the sky darkened and the wind picked up speed. The old woman watched the young one and smiled bitterly to herself, lightly stroking her old wedding ring, reminded of her first meeting with her love.

She was probably just as young, walking up to this same counter, smiling shyly at the handsome man who had been so helpful to her before. A swap of numbers, a promise to meet again one day, having coffee and croissants together. A romantic walk underneath rows of cherry blossom trees, a proposal, an acceptance. Fifteen years without a child, a blessing, a family, her family.

Sighing wistfully at the window, she wondered how her two men slipped away from her and out of her life so easily.

xIxBx

Garry didn't like how dark the clouds had gotten or how they've gathered together.

'Time to go back. Ma's probably taking care of the shop.' Hating the thought of his mother working so hard for him, when he was the one who stormed out made him incredibly guilty. Garry gathered his jacket tighter around him and walked a little faster, trying to outrun the incoming storm and his hesitation to go back.

A gifted street performer and dozens of pigeons caught his eye. The hesitation had caught up and Garry weakly accepted the temptation, prolonging the inevitable fallout a little longer. A slowly increasing crowd edged nearer and nearer to him until he was pushed to the front, able to see the performance quite well. He smiled at the joy in the older man's eyes as he blew out an impressive phrase on the trumpet.

A single bird flew out of its group and landed on his shoulder.

Garry thought it was a daring and bold move for the bird to land on a human, especially one that was playing a trumpet very passionately and... He paused. He narrowed his eyes at the scene, a bird and a trumpet... The bird turned and looked straight at him, cocking its head to the side as if to mock him.

'Ya piece of-'

For a moment, Garry wondered if he was insane for internally talking to a bird his brain had conjured as a human. He balled his fists and stared back. The performer was enjoying the crowd too much to notice anything odd about Garry.

Trying to be discreet as possible, he stepped forward to place a few bills onto the man's trumpet case. The bird watched his every move, eyes constantly tracing his figure. Garry scrutinised the ever watchful creature, rubbing his sweaty palms together. He felt the weight of the lighter resting in his jean pocket and drew it out, slowly, carefully, not wanting to startle the bird before his very own performance. Completely overcome with curiosity, it jumped up once before leaning forward towards him.

One hand holding the lighter, another hovering nearby, he flicked it to life. A fire erupted into his palm and vanished as quickly as it came. With the burst of colours and light, the bird suddenly took off, wings spread wide. The performer threw his trumpet into the air with the finale of the piece and the bird aligned exactly as Garry thought it would. His eyes widened and he took in a deep breath.

The performer caught his trumpet and bowed low, enjoying the attention and thunderous applause. Dozens of birds alarmed soared behind him and the unintentionally magnificent scene gave Garry a small window to escape unnoticed. While the others were still dazzled, he quietly withdrew himself from the crowd and quickly slipped away.

A drop of water landed on his shoulder and Garry looked up, disheartened by what he saw. Bringing his hood up, he walked on, a frown twisting his lips and sweat from the humidity covering his brows.

It was going to be a long walk back.

xIxBx

***Ib loved walking in the rain, that wasn't her problem.

She sniffed and rubbed her shoulders, fighting off a chill. Her oversized sweater could only do so much to keep her warm when she on the verge of a cold. She looked at the rain in despair and looked back at her watch. It was almost six o'clock. It would take a while to walk back; she had to head off soon. Ib took out her phone from her small bag and quickly texted her mum, not wanting to upset her unnecessarily.

Will be home late. Don't worry, just the rain :)

Flu season was in. At first it was her dad, then the young gardener, then Ayden, then the chauffer. Ib thought she had escaped, but it looked like she didn't. Not wanting to prolong the chauffer's cold, she took it upon herself to walk to town, hoping the beautiful weather at the beginning of the day would stay beautiful. Unfortunately, she stayed too long from one shop to another and was finally stranded in this one. It was a wonderful place to be stranded in, but she felt the urgent need to fulfil her agreed curfew. After all, she didn't go out with an escort today.

The kind old woman was typing in an ancient looking laptop and looked up at Ib's fidgeting figure. She saw her indecision and wondered if she could help.

"I don't mind you staying in here dear, even if we close the shop, but it'd be dark soon enough. Why don't you take that umbrella there? I'll wait out the storm and walk home with my son."

"Oh, thank you, but I can't accept. What if it continued raining until the night? I could always find myself a taxi. Well... if there are any left. I'll be alright, ma'am." Ib didn't really know which she wanted to avoid more, walking home in the dark or a possible fever. However, she absolutely refused to take the umbrella. She could endure the rain but not the thought of this kind woman falling ill. She could just buy another one in a store nearby if she wanted to.

Looking out of the glass door, to her despair, she realised a lot of shops were closing early at the expected shower, even convenience stores. 'Unprofessional...' She sighed and tapped her chin, hesitantly reaching for the door handle. She turned back at the woman and waved goodbye, smiling at her.

"Thank you for the offer earlier and for everything else. I'll be back in a few days."

"Take care dear; it's raining heavily out there." She stared worriedly at the window for a second, "I hope you'll be alright." Ib thought for a moment she was referring to both herself and someone else. Ib turned on her heel and stepped out.

Closing the door and hugging her small black bag to her chest, she took a deep breath and set off. Walking gingerly to avoid slipping on the wet pavement, yet as quickly as possible, Ib kept her head down to avoid the rain on her face.

xIxBx

Garry kicked the stone away from the narrow pavement into the bushes nearby. The downpour hit harder and much sooner than he expected and was soaking wet. His hood was up but it only offered minimal protection.

The cold was soothing though, clearing his head bit by bit. His earlier grim face melted into a calm masked, neutral in all respect. Inside, the turbulence that had grown earlier was stripped away into a smouldering, slow heat of shame of his earlier actions towards his mother. Instead of escaping the rain, he took it in stride as his cold, hard punishment, walking at a leisurely, almost crawling pace.

Karma knew very well how to deal with him. Garry walked the streets alone, only fleetingly bumping into a few others with briefcases or bags over their heads. None had the intention of stopping to chat. He kept his head down, hands stuffed in pockets and his hood up. He carried on moving.

The warm, dim light of the automatic streetlamps guided him home and from his location estimated the shop would be about ten minutes away. The apologetic phrases in mind kept whirling about and he still didn't know what exactly to say when he sees his mother.

After all, he had stepped on a landmine.

Garry looked up and breathed in the fresh, damp air. He closed his eyes and the distorted colours behind the darkness gave him a short reprieve, pictures impossible to comprehend teasing him. He smiled at his own childish behaviour and odd humour. He used to play the same game with Ma years ago.

A sudden impact against his chest snapped his eyes opened and he stepped back to avoid falling, the force strong enough to knock him back. Something thudded below. A soft squeak came from the ground next to him and Garry looked down at the object of collision. His eyes widened as he realised what had happened.

"I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

Her right arm and hip appeared to have cushioned her weight from her fall and her loose long brown hair covered her face. The woman ducked down even further, obscuring her face completely except for her eyes scrunched shut. She said nothing, shaking her head.

He bent down and flipped his hood back, hands hovering about, ready to assist with anything she needed. Garry noted her trembling frame. From what he could make out from the dim lights nearby, long brown tresses were partially held back by braids and a red rose pin. She wore a knee length red pleated skirt that had been hiked up in her fall to past mid-thigh. He blushed. What he thought looked to be white shirt from the collar was obscured by a dark blue sweater. Her red, slightly heeled Mary Jane's and knee-length thin black socks were wet from the rain and puddles on the pavements. One black knee looked to be ripped and the skin scratched from the rough force of the concrete.

He worried his lip, imagining at lighting pace the different scenarios of how this meeting would play out. He laid one hand on her upper arm hesitantly before she jerked it away. She slowly sat up, facing away from him, groaning in pain. She sneezed. He looked blankly at the back of her head before fetching something from his jean pocket. He silently offered the plain white handkerchief and she gently accepted the soft fabric, much less afraid of the unwanted contact.

"Are you alright, Miss? I wasn't watching where I was going at all. I thought there wasn't anybody else walking around so I didn't really—"

"—It's perfectly fine, I was walking a bit too quickly too. The pavement was slippery and I tripped on my heels. I apologise for bumping into—"

"Oh it's fine. I'm more worried about you right now."

The fine-quality materials of her clothes and her formal, polite way of speaking made Garry judge that he tripped or bumped into quite a wealthy person, or at least a person with that kind of background. Oddly enough, he felt that her voice was familiar.

"I'll be fine."

"Let me help you up," he offered a hand to her shoulder and she looked back cautiously, head down and face still hidden by the dishevelled hair and long fringe. "It's the least I can do for you, bumping into you too."

He noticed her small black bag lying close to the bushes and took one of the thin straps, swinging it over his other shoulder. She placed her oddly large right hand into his even larger left one and he noticed her long, slim fingers, partially covered by the long sleeves of the oversized sweater. She wobbled slightly getting up and he supported her left elbow too, not wanting her to fall. She gave a small whine of pain and looked down at her right foot. She tested the appendage, winced and gasped when she swung it a little too far to the right or left. His arms steadied her and he made his mind.

"I've got a first aid kit at my shop about ten minutes away. I'll help you out with your ankle, and then I'll drive you home. Is that alright?"

"I... I really don't want to trouble you." He raised an eyebrow, not buying her tough girl act of wanting to stay strong through everything. He almost missed her tiny nod at the end. "But o-okay."

"Okay. We would get there faster if you were on my back, is that alright?" He smiled gently at her, even though she probably won't see it.

"It's fine. Thank you, for everything." The young woman looked up and graced him the sight of her face for the first time that evening, smiling softly at him.

His heart almost stopped.

Her eyes widened.

Whilst the clouds continued to cry out of sadness or happiness, no one would know, the two people stood on the street pavement, transfixed to the other's gaze, unable to move. The heavy shower relented and slowed to a drizzle before the heavens finally parted, evening sunlight softly grazing the spellbound strangers.

xTxBxCx


COMING SOON:

"It's wonderful meeting an old friend, Mary. Although, I suppose if you haven't seen each other in years, they would count as a new friend too."

"What's she like, Ib?"

"It's a man, Mary." Ib absentmindedly drew a red poppy in a green field and added a sun too. "I'm sure you'd like him though. He's kind, he's gentle and he helped me a lot."

"Just like old times," Mary muttered to herself. Ib looked up.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something?"

"It's nothing, Ib. Let's go play with the dolls, I'm tired of drawing!" The cherubic little girl took the older woman by her hand and dragged her away. She couldn't stand the sight of anymore flowers. She wouldn't let anyone take her Ib away ever again.


AN: Finally, huh? ;) And so, with the conclusion of this chapter, we are almost halfway through The Music Box... and there has not been a single music box mentioned. Aren't I funny? If there are any grammatical mistakes, spelling errors or inconsistencies in the story, please let me know and I shall correct it C: Thank you for reading! Take care!