After picking up the water-stained pages of the last sonata outside of the mirrored room, Ib closed her eyes and leaned against a wall. She knew she didn't have much time left, but she was so tired and cold...her rose was still in her pocket. She hadn't looked at it ever since leaping out of Ivonne's painting, and she could tell that it was missing at least two petals. With a sigh, she rose, eyes shut, and took a deep breath as she faced the direction Ivonne's room was in, her fists clenched. Raising her head, Ib felt her determination and energy rushing back.
Hold on, Ivonne, Guertena...Garry...I'll be there soon.

"...Guertena? Guertena, are you alright?" Worriedly, Garry knelt down next to the slumped artist, shaking his shoulder. "Come on! Wake up!"
"Ugh..." Guertena coughed and curled up. "I-Ivonne..."
"What's wrong? Talk to me!"
"She..she's going to come back...that other side of me came back, that bad side...I'm...almost complete again...God, it hurts..."
"Huh? You mean your other side...it merged with you?"

"Guertena? GUERTENA!"

Ib swallowed.This..what...what was this?
She had absolutely no idea how to handle the current situation, and with good reason. Seeing Mary, Fake Garry, Guertena...ok, that was manageable, with a bit of help from Ivonne.
But this...she had a nasty feeling about this, and she was sure Ivonne was incapable of helping her. This was the dimension's last defense mechanism, and it was horrific. Against the bleached, now colorless walls, a little girl stood in front of the door to Ivonne's room.

Ib...

She stared as the same pair of crimson eyes lifted their gaze from the floor, then to her knees, and finally her own eyes. In that eerily familiar, childish face, Little Ib's mouth twisted into a horrendous parody of a bashful smile.

"Hi, Ib." The doppelganger's voice was almost careless, casual.
"Hello..." Adult Ib shivered as a crawly sensation went down her spine. What was she doing? Having a normal, pleasant conversation with her past self?
"Ib, why are you hurting our friends?" The sudden question snapped the older one back to reality.
"I-I...I'm not hurting them!"
"But you tore out their hearts!" With an aggrieved expression, the dark-haired child pointed accusingly at the sonata in Ib's hand. "Why would you do that? We loved Mary. We loved Guertena. You, I loved Garry."
"I didn't hurt them! Besides, that Garry wasn't the real Garry-"
"What gives you that proof? Didn't it occur to you that he wasreal, because he was still here?" The tiny girl's eyes darkened, her voice viciously sizzling through the air. "What are you even trying to do, Ib? You came back to save him, not kill him!"
Ib felt herself falling, being sucked into the illogical, yet overwhelming words of Little Ib's argument.

She was so tired...maybe her younger self was right... A warm wave of weariness washed over her.

Invitingly, the child beamed and stretched out a miniscule hand, her malevolence gone like a summer shower.
"Come on, Ib. " Her voice was coaxing and soft. "There's still a chance to save them. And we'll all be happy together, and make our own world here. Everyone's wishes will be fulfilled, after all."

Wishes?
"I want to be real! I want to go outside and be loved, forever and ever!"
"Please, let me out...I'll never see her, never again..."
"Ah...I went to a cafe recently, and I had little hamburger-shaped candies called macarons! We will get out, Ib, and I promise to take you there!"

"You know nothing about wishes." The older Ib snarled, her eyes blazing. "There is no such thing as happiness in here, it's a hellhole made of despair and it feeds off everyone like a vulture on a fresh carcass. You lie. "

"Ib!"

"I know their desires. You're right. I tore out their hearts. But I intend to give each and every one back-

"Ib, what are you saying-" Stepping forward, the elder's face was furious as her chamois hair flowed around her.

"If I give up to you now, I'm giving up everything and everyone. Guertena, Mary, Garry- they're counting on me. And if you think I'm going to let them down..." Ib's voice cracked. "I've already done that once. I don't intend to do so again."

"Happiness-"

"I won't find a happy ending here, not with the way things are now! Stop imitating me and get out of my sight! I refuse to be you; I know I am selfish, jealous- but I won't let you take advantage of me!"Older Ib took another step forward. "Don't you get it?"

I'm not a child anymore.

The younger Ib gaped at her, stunned; then with a high-pitched shriek, she staggered backwards as her limbs started melting away into radiant, scarlet rose petals. Within minutes, she was gone.

Solemnly, Ib glided towards the elegant wooden gleam of the Stradivari Fleming lying in the bed of roses. With gentle hands, she lifted the gorgeous instrument, marveling at its graceful curves as the dimension slowly began to break down around her, the white walls crumbling around Ivonne's room.

Confidently, she strode into the evaporating rubble, looking at the almost-transparent silver mist that hovered stubbornly over the painting. Somehow, the table with the vase had converted itself into a music stand, with the sonatas resting on it.

Closing her eyes, Ib heard voices echo in her mind as she lifted the violin to her shoulder-

" I had the skill, but up until now I didn't know how to truly play for someone, because...I never had anyone to play for."

Do I have someone to play for?

Strong, careful arms wrapped around, his warm breathing in her ears...the bittersweet taste of that lemon drop...a macaron-sweet promise made in the warmth of a false sun...

Like rain; spectacular, soul-cleansing rain, bright tears fell from her eyes as she remembered.

In the wide, wide white expanse of a empty, heartless world, an artist slept, dreaming.

A room sat quietly, its only occupant a pile of untouched ashes.

Leaning against a silent wall, the still body of a beautiful sacrifice finally stirred.

Ib lifted the violin bow, and began.

Garry sat, staring at the easel in shock. Ib? Besides him, Guertena gasped, his eyes flying wide open.
That music..
Ten thousand lights and surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people, in a glimmering great hall of Vienna.

But at the incandescent Wienfluss, she told him, while staring into that flaming river, that she had only played for him. /i

Slowly, the heartbroken man got up. Shards of him were falling to the ground, clattering; he knew that exquisite girl was not his Ivonne, but he loved her anyway. She was trying for everyone's sake.

In reverent silence, the two watched as Ib finished the first sonata, the silvery mist almost gone from Ivonne's painting.

Her tears were still flowing; every glistening drop was an addition to the stunning demolition of a place where everyone hid and ran in fear.
Don't hold back, Ib, give it all you've got.His voice was so reassuring...typical Garry.
With a frenetic passion, Ib entered the second sonata, smiling through her hazy curtained eyes.

Garry gasped as the blindingly white walls of their prison began collapsing, bit by bit. Guertena stood there, watching in blinded happiness as he cried silently.
I'm free...

Ivonne sighed inaudibly, and hummed along to the melody as she dreamed of past days.

She really was in a hurry to get home; she hated getting caught in the dark. And like a klutz, she tripped-
But instead of falling she found herself blinking at the intensity of striking, stormy eyes, then the angular, handsome features of the gentleman who had caught her.
And although she was a fairly practical person, she knew in her heart of hearts that Weiss Guertena was someone she would give herself to, with a loyal, loving passion.

Ib entered the fourth and final sonata. It was a significantly moving piece, delicate and mindblowingly powerful. Her slender frame was bathed in the pure light of the dimension's glinting remains, the poised arch of her lovely arms prominent against the clean, airy space.
Gradually, the silver mist began to lift from Ivonne's portrait, fluttering away in the form of withered petals.

"Guertena!" Dazed, the artist turned to look at the other man. "What are you doing? We can leave-" With a fearful desperation, the pale-haired man grasped Garry's sleeve.
"Garry. What if she's not there, waiting for me?" His voice cracked. "She's been waiting so long..."
"I know for certain she'll be there."
"What?" Garry smiled- the same wistful way Guertena had smiled when he first entered the isabelline 'jail'.
"She'll be there, Weiss. Just like how Ib came back for me, she's been waiting for you all along. Don't disappoint her."
"...You're right." Trembling, the hopeful artist allowed himself to be led out by the younger man, their ears following the stream of vivid music.

Ib expertly navigated her way through the frenzied portion of the last sonata as Ivonne's portrait began to shine with a blinding light that poured into the ruined dimension and illuminated everything. Behind her, she heard footsteps and-

"Ib! Ib!" Garry? She continued playing, her eyes shut in a sudden fear that everything would vanish. Another voice rang in the clear air.
"Ivonne! This time, she gasped and pried her disbelieving eyelids open to watch Guertena race to the shining portrait, an expression of rapture on his face. As she finished the last sonata, a tremendous rumble shook the place.
"Ib! Watch out!" The familiar strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close as she stumbled in shock. For a split second, she looked up at him, back into striking, stormy eyes.

Then, with a deafening crash and a roar, the floor cracked open. With a cry, the two fell into the abyss in the deep, catching only a glimpse of the other couple; Guertena and the mahogany-haired, crimson-eyed woman at his side, both beaming radiantly.

After that, there was nothing. Nothing but the speed of their descent in total darkness and each other's presence, and the strong, unbreakable clasp of their hands, forever entwined.

"Garry?" His face was wet as he blinked and peered down at her. Then he realized it; the warmth of real sunshine on his back. His eyes widened as he glanced up at the bright, bright blue sky, the fluffy cotton-candy clouds gliding serenely past the sun. "Garry..we made it..." Ib's tears rolled down her face as she buried her face in his shirt and cried like a child.
"It was all you, Ib." His hands stroked her soft hair as he embraced her, smiling. "Thank you for coming back for me." She tilted her head back to look at him, and then frowned, puzzled. "What's the matter?"
"Garry. You look the same."
"Oh..about that..Guertena told me that everything would change to accommodate my age when I went back to the real world...so I guess my birthdate...changed?"
"...Are you fine with that?"
"Not like there's anything I can do about it. Besides, it doesn't shorten my life span." He chuckled, and then noticed the violin and sonatas in her hands. "No wonder I felt like something was nudging my back, you still have Ivonne's stuff!" Ib gaped at them.
"This..what am I going to do with this? I can't say I randomly found Ivonne's sonatas and Stradivari..."
"Well, maybe we should take a look back inside the museum. I feel as though something's changed..."
The two stared at the imposing marble entrance, and then nodded at each other. Ascending the stairs, Garry reached the door first and ushered Ib in.

-

The first thing that met their eyes was the incredible color. Garry and Ib stared in awe at the gallery; the stark primary colors and black tones were all gone. In their place, delicate sculptures of silver, glass, and crystal shimmered as vibrant, sunset colors streaked across immense canvases.

The main attraction, however, had a tour group beneath it. Garry and Ib sidled closer to eavesdrop, while they continued to gawk in amazement. The guide was busy explaining away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, without a doubt I know many of you came here to see this." She gestured towards the gilt-framed painting. "Guertena was known for his exceptional, emotion-charged imagery, all inspired by his love, Ivonne, and this portrait of her is the most famous painting in Vienna; some even called it the Austrian Mona Lisa. Note, ladies and gentlemen, at the movement and elegance of her posture- he has captured her intensity, her passion, all in a single snapshot of eternal love."
In the front of the crowd, a little, blond-haired girl in a green dress hopped up and down excitedly, tugging on her mother's hand.
"Mommy, she's so pretty! I want to be like her one day when I grow up!"
"I'm sure you will be, my dear." The brunette woman stretched out and stroked her daughter's hair. "Let's go find Daddy, ok?"
"Ok!" As they walked away, the tour guide answered a question from a stern-looking man.
"I heard that the Stradivari Fleming was used by Ivonne Reinhardt, is that true?"
"Indeed it is; in fact, tonight you will be hearing from one talented violinist tonight- she is playing the same exact violin, on loan from a private company."

Ib choked in disbelief as she gazed at the violin in her hands. Next to her, Garry grinned.
"I guess that isyours, for now."
"I..I don't even know what to say. This thing costs millions!"
"Its value is nothing in the hands of a person who can't use it, Ib."
"But..." She lowered her head. "I'd like you to stay and hear- if that's alright with you.." Garry smiled and suddenly pulled Ib closer, causing her to gasp.
"I will." He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. "It's a promise." Her eyes shone as she glanced up at him, laughing.
From across the room, a portly man in a suit caught sight of Ib.
"Ib! Where were you? It's time to get ready!" Ib nodded and waved frantically at the man before turning back to Garry.
"I'll see you later!" With that, she dashed across the gallery and vanished. Garry stuck his hands back into his pockets, and looked back at Guertena's famed portrait.

Waves of dark chocolate hair fell around a lovely, heart-shaped face, rose-colored eyes sparkling with sheer delight and love as carnation lips parted in a ebullient smile. No wonder he loved her so much...

She was beautiful.

Ib tensed as she exhaled, looking out nervously at the numerous faces. The lights above her were burning as she woodenly lifted the violin-

He was in the crowd, that comforting smile on his face, his tall figure and torn coat standing out against the rest of the audience.

With a new confidence, she started playing.
As the golden notes of her music wafted out into the main gallery, Garry and Ib could have sworn that they felt the gentle, happy presence of Guertena and Ivonne somewhere close by.

Neither of them knew what would possibly happen in the future- no one knew, but the possibilities were infinite. At this moment, they held one shining hope in their two hearts: that perhaps, someday, they too would experience the same joy.

And even now, that little wish was already planting itself and taking root, as he looked up at her and the smile they shared stretched back to a glimmering, faintly tangible past in Vienna.