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: It's been… 1 year, 7 months and 22 days. Is this thing even relevant anymore? Lol, finally, am I right? C: Happy reading!
Song recommendation: *Reverie by Claude Debussy, **Preludes Book 1, No. 8 by Claude Debussy ***Zedd – Clarity ft. Foxes (Evan Duffy Piano Cover)
Chapter 9:
Japan, 2004
-12 years after the Guertena Art Museum-
*The early September night air was cool, especially compared to the ravaging heat of the day.
He found her sitting placidly on a bench, without even a coat to keep out the chill. Garry, still out of breath from running, sighed in relief that his hunch was correct. Indifference painted her expression, as if he was just another passer-by, until he had jogged close enough for her to recognise him.
"Garry?" He wrapped his long coat around the older woman and sat beside her, frowning at her visible shivering. "Why are you here?"
"I could ask you the same question. When you weren't home, your phone on the table, I got worried. I thought of looking for you here."
"Well, I'm glad I told you about this place often then."
"So many times it doesn't actually feel like my first visit."
He chuckled gently as she finally smiled, the first sign that evening that she was glad to see him. "There's an autumn cherry growing quite close by, we could visit it later."
Taking in the sights around him, he hesitantly draped his arm around her. She leaned easily into him. The bright moon peeking from above silver branches seemed nostalgic for a moment, surrounded by thousands of cascading pink flowers floating in the breeze. He could tell there were many fleeting thoughts in her mind this moonlit night, but their talk was long overdue.
"Why did you run away, Ma?"
"I didn't run."
"It's late, you're without your coat, and it takes an hour and a half to get home by bullet train."
She gave a grim smile. "You know of all people should know this feeling very well. Even if it was years ago, you went off to explore the world, somehow surviving on your own for years. A need to escape… like a bird trapped in a cage."
"You're not trapped," he placed a hand over hers, almost enveloping it. He had never noticed how she had slowly shrunk over the years, always thinking of her as an immovable rock. "I'm right next to you, okay?"
"Despite the quiet dinners, which I am thankful for, we're not exactly talking."
"Sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"It kind of is."
"Hm, I kind of agree." She sniggered at the face he gave her, faintly illuminated by the distant streetlamps of the park. Her laughing quickly died away. "But you weren't wrong, I did hurt you."
Sakura brushed the long side fringe that her son was so careful of and softly traced the pale outline of his old scar. He shook his hair back in place. "It was a long time ago, and it wasn't your fault either. You always warned me it was dangerous to bother you during your sculpting."
"Not an excuse to be reckless on my part."
"You weren't—" he cut himself off, trying to be tactful, "You weren't well back then. It's different now and I was out of line to bring up the past so coarsely."
"I'm just glad it's mostly better now."
"Yeah." Garry glanced at his watch. "It's getting really late now, shall we head back?"
xIxBx
Garry grimaced at the price of the overnight coach, but decided it couldn't be helped with the last train having already left. He enjoyed the renewed familiar closeness, his mother's arm slipped through his as they walked through the bus station.
It was mostly empty and he was grateful for the privacy. Only a handful of travellers and the occasion straggler who missed their train home lounged about, waiting for their own time to depart.
"So, Ma," he started as they boarded their seats early, waiting for the coach driver to begin the journey. He sat back and closed his eyes. "How's life treating you lately?"
"The summer flowers in the garden aren't going to last very long, and I'm still waiting for grandchildren." His eyes snapped open at the sudden turn in conversation. She eyed him carefully, a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Adopted or not."
"I've already explored the possibility," he muttered under his breath, "And I've concluded that while I can appreciate the aesthetics of beautiful people, I am more attracted towards females. So…"
"So?"
"My future children may not necessarily be adopted. I'd like to drop the issue, please."
She burst out laughing at the statements, amazed by the formality in his answer. "Give the poor young ones a home, dear. Am I at least going to get a new daughter-in-law to coddle over soon enough?"
"Daughter in—" he blushed. "It's too early for that."
"I know young people marry late these days, but you're not getting any younger."
"Ah, well," he looked out the window, wondering how she would react, "That's not exactly what I meant."
She kept silent, but the huge grin slowly forming on her face spoke volumes. Mentally preparing himself, he returned it with a shy smile of his own. Her probing was never gentle.
"Is she nice?"
"Very."
The driver finally arrived along with the rest of the passengers. Like the station, there were only a handful of late night travellers at this time of the year. Garry watched him check over the mirrors, lights and such, getting ready for the long journey ahead.
"Is she lovely?"
"Breathtakingly so, but honestly I'm not sure if the feelings are mutual."
"It's not Mrs White or that younger child she paired you up with a few years back is it?"
"No!" He blanched at the memory, then gripped the arm rests as the bus lurched forward. Instantly clamping a hand over his mouth, Garry took deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Driving was never a problem, but he still suffered mild motion sickness from time to time, especially on the bus.
"S-She's uh…" he tried to continue, "A pianist, one of Japan's best young talents. Her name is Ib."
His mother's eyes widened at the news and her jaw went slack. "How did you even…?"
"It's, uh… a long story." He chuckled. "A very long story, but we met… um, in the rain."
"How romantic."
Garry knew he took his romantic side after his mother, and he was pleased to have at least appease her with one of the many half-truths that was sure to be fabricated in the future. "Would you like to come and see her play?"
"You have tickets for Miss Ib? They sell out ridiculously fast."
"I will, she invited me to an upcoming recital. I could always ask for one more."
"Only if it's not too much trouble, and only if she doesn't mind you bringing another woman" she finished with a wink.
"Ma!"
Ringing laughing filled the space between them. At least her teasing nature was back, and her smile bright. He would endure all teasing from her for her, it was the least he could do. After a few more minutes of quiet and pleasant chatter, their conversations slowly faded away. Both had closed their eyes in exhaustion and they slept peacefully on the way home.
xIxBx
It was a battle of wills, one she had not experienced in a long time.
And he was clearly trying to distract her.
"Your mother tells me that you've made a new friend." Rubbing his smooth chin, her father stared at his bishop in contemplation. "And that you went out about a week ago."
Ib shifted in her seat and gave a shy smile. She had missed moments like this when she was younger, playing a quick game of chess with her father while her mother was still getting ready for their dinner party. Although the subtle interrogation was new and unexpected. He finally made his move.
"We had tea and macarons."
"Sounds lovely." Ib pursed her lips at the bishop's new position, threatening her defence. Her hands hovered over the chessboard, unsure of her next decision to sacrifice her pawn. She almost knocked over the entire board at his next sentence. "You should bring him over for dinner."
Heat prickled under her skin and Ib briefly wondered if she was running a fever. "W-Why should he come over for dinner?"
"I want to meet him, of course."
She wished she could disappear under her oversized sweater and never come out, her father's benevolent grin giving her no comfort. She swallowed thickly before her throat could work again. "H-How sudden."
William Bennett simply laughed and cornered her, shifting his knight five squares to its right. "Check, darling."
"I know I'm not too well versed in the rules of adulthood," she sighed, "But do grown-ups usually introduce their platonic friends to their parents? It's rather…"
"Uncommon, yes, but there's nothing wrong with it" he shrugged.
The young lady chuckled at her father's strangeness and focussed more on the game, alternating between defence and offence. Her father was a brilliant tactician and she often struggled to keep up with him. As he waited for his turn, he reached for the cigar case on the table.
"Ib dear, have you visited St. Elizabeth's lately?"
Ib eyed the more expensive cancer stick in his mouth in resignation and stayed put as his lighter refused to light. He briefly glanced at her, but still she didn't reach for what he knew was in her pocket. "I did about two weeks ago."
Cigar easily forgotten and kept away, his eyes twinkled with the new discussion topic. "And? Have you seen the hospital's new rooftop gardens?"
She couldn't help grinning at his own sudden rise in enthusiasm, suddenly reminded of Garry's passion for travelling. "Ah, the huge glass dome? I've only seen it in passing to the recording studio, but it's beautiful. Great job, dad."
He nodded in satisfaction. "Thank you, my dearest."
Ib sat very still as he gently lifted her queen, dangling it between his fingers as he gave her another wide grin. Ayden seem to be very fond of that same grin in the past. She exhaled slowly, her brows scrunching together as she formulated another plan of attack, whilst her father seemed to fiddle with the queen figurine.
"How were the children doing in your last visit?"
"There's a lot of new faces."
"I'm glad. And…" he paused. "That girl?"
"Back again, only two days after getting discharged." She smoothed the green gypsy skirt over her knees, fiddling with the soft material, avoiding her father's pitying eyes. There was another pregnant pause. He placed the queen back down.
"Is she stable now?"
"She was when I called."
"Good, we can at least be thankful for that."
"It's just…" William remained silent as Ib struggled with her words, "its difficult… watching her stay in that room for months, like a caged bird. As soon as she's well enough and the doctors let her go, she's back within the week. It's practically her second home."
"We especially designed it as such, so that Mary would be comfortable."
A house phone rang down the halls, disrupting their conversation. Before either could get up, someone answered. Tilting her head at the unmoving chess pieces, Ib gave a miserable sigh to the board. She made a mental note to buy a new chess set from Garry's shop when she moved to her new apartment.
"Still, after knowing her for years, it's a little disheartening." She stretched and stifled a yawn, exhausted from the day's intensive recording session. They were almost finished with the album. "So you and mum, tonight… is it a very big party?"
"Your mother is the Queen of Society, Ib. We'll be gone for a while, don't stay up."
With a soft cough, they both looked to the entrance of the room. Esme Bennett meticulously fluffed her hair a little more at their wide-eyed stares, grinned charmingly and gave a twirl of her red evening gown. The lightly shimmering material fluttered around her beautifully, the colour highlighting the Bennett matriarch's unusual eyes.
"How do I look?"
"You look gorgeous, mum."
Her father blushed bright and Ib marvelled at the sight. He stood and rushed to greet her with a kiss. "Words can't describe how beautiful you are."
"How eloquent my husband is," she cooed. Brushing imaginary lint off his suit, she giggled girlishly as he peppered her with a few more kisses, carefully out of sight of their daughter. Esme wrapped both arms around her husband's arm and turned them around, affectionately rubbing her cheek against his shoulder to stop his advances. She took in a slightly uncomfortable looking Ib and gave an apologetic grin. "How do we look?"
Despite feeling awkward from her parents embarrassing public display earlier, the young lady gave her a nod and a small smile.
"Like a picture perfect couple."
She blinked at her own words.
"Thank you, dearest." William helped her into her coat before buttoning up his own. "We're already running a little late but I wanted to tell you I just got off the phone from my mother. She wants us to stay for a Christmas dinner in France."
Ib perked up at the news.
"We haven't visited in a long time." Her father remarked.
"It wouldn't hurt for her to come home and visit us, though." Her mother huffed, putting on her heels. "I'll tell Ellis and he can organise the schedule. You must be tired, get some rest. We'll talk at breakfast tomorrow so don't stay up for us; as your father said, we'll be back late." She paused. "You'll be fine tonight, won't you?"
The young lady wondered why the familiar, harmless statements seemed to grate her that night. Ayden was progressively visiting less and less, Ib spent most of her day alone even if she was surrounded by people and would soon be living on her own sometime next year, so why wouldn't she be fine over a few hours? Wasn't she an independent adult? Why did they still treat her like a child?
Instead of voicing her thoughts, she nodded with a weak smile.
"Sure, mum."
xIxBx
**The morning was far too beautiful, it hurt her eyes. The lady stood by the window, hands on the newly repaired glass, trying to absorb as much warmth as she could from the sunlight. The hospital was many things to the woman, but it had never been comforting.
It was sheer luck that the window had been broken in the day before her ward's discharge. It was not luck that brought her back days later though, the sudden fatigue and fainting spell having done that. The window was repaired just in time.
Hearing a rustling of the bedding, the woman looked back over her shoulder. The child tried to sit, her lips still tinged with a hint of blue and her breaths still coming in short puffs. Her eyes did not shine and her usually bouncy golden curls were limp.
"Are you feeling better? Shall I call a nurse?"
Mary blinked hazily, taking account of her room before she finally recognised the face of the woman. The woman tilted her head ever so slightly in greeting. Tucking in a stray blond strand, she watched the other occupant of the room, who could only do the same.
The young girl was like a deer caught in the headlights, her porcelain skin drained of any remaining colour.
"What are you doing here?"
The woman haughtily sighed, as if explaining took too much effort and instead settled herself into one of the armchairs in the room. The child was far too wealthy and extravagant, and the hospital was ridiculous and far too compliant with her childish requests.
"As your good guardian, I was checking up on you." Her eyes narrowed at Mary's questioning pout. "That house informed me of course, and the hospital too."
Saying nothing, Mary's head was still spinning and it hurt to move the slightest. She sighed. "You rarely visit, what's so wrong with me this time?"
The woman shrugged and crossed her arms. "You fainted, nothing too terrible yet."
"Yet..." she echoed miserably.
"Don't fret, my dear. People with your condition don't live too long, and you've already fought for so long. Misdiagnoses, complications after complications just when we think you're getting better. No one will blame you if you ever decide to grab that Heavenly Thread—"
"No," she barely choked out, "Stop it."
"No?"
Despite struggling to get up, Mary looked at her guardian straight in the eyes. "I have too many things I want to do to give up. I'll get better, I have to get better. This place, even if it wasn't what I imagined…" she fell back on soft pillows in a coughing fit, "…it's still my shelter."
The woman came forward and brought the blanket up to the girl's chin, tucking her in. The child turned over, finding no comfort in the pseudo-maternal gesture. With a deep sigh, she walked away and crossed her arms, frowning.
"A forsaken shelter, no less."
"You're horrible, telling an already miserable person they're going to die."
"Well it is true, and you're the cruel one. Weren't we close at one point?"
Mary stilled and so did her guardian. It felt like a lifetime ago. Looking around the messy room, she bent down to the closed dolls, the large blue ones by the bed and rearranged them. She hummed disapprovingly at the unsown stomach and raised a brow at the girl who still wouldn't look at her.
"I realise you spend so much time here you practically live here, but try to tidy up when you can get out of bed. Despite its grand appearances and your various luxuries, this isn't a hotel, it's a hospital. Well, then again, hospitals will do anything when your father was one of its major benefactors."
She walked back towards the window, one hand on the glass again. The bustling life outside was such a strange contrast to the stillness in the room. Although Mary was perfectly capable of entertaining herself with various things, she couldn't help but wonder if she ever sat or stood in the same spot and looked outside.
Like she always used to.
"Mary?"
She didn't respond.
"Are you… lonely here?" Her voice softened inexplicably, nothing like the harsh character she displayed before. "I can't imagine how you must feel every day. I'm sorry we can't visit more often, not like that person."
Soft breathing was her only reply. Mary must have been more exhausted than she let on, putting on a brave front for the sake of their argument.
Heading towards the door, she stopped by the bed first. The woman stroked the hair on top of the sleeping girl's head, imagining a foal in spring, still wobbling on her own feet, still hiding herself away under her blanket every time she visited. "See you later, little one."
xIxBx
***It made him glad, even if the idea was a little childish, that she seemed to be having fun with him.
He hadn't known about contact juggling before, but it was just as interesting a show as its other counterparts like toss juggling. And the juggler was putting on a beautiful performance.
It was almost effortless, the way the young man manipulated the silver ball atop of his shoulders, down his arms, to the tip of his fingers. He threw the ball in the air only for it to land on the crook of his elbow, then the top of his torso, then back again. It spun, down his shoulders, behind his neck, back down the length of his arms. The ball danced back and forth between the back of his forearm and the crook of his elbow, the juggler making it seem like child's play.
The crowd cheered in surprise as it landed on the bridge of his nose and the man gained their amusement and further applause as he resembled a seal for a moment. He shuffled backwards ever so slowly and laid on his back on the floor, ball still sitting quietly on his confident face. He turned his head sharply, and the ball became affixed to his temple.
Getting back up with ease, the ball bounced from his elbows and down to his knee and lower leg, flicked to his torso and rolled down and around the back and sides of his head. His lithe body was almost dancing in time to the loud, hypnotic music blaring from the large side speakers, balancing seemingly as easy as breathing to the juggler.
And Ib, with her quiet giddiness, made everything better.
His eyes strayed often from the young man on stage to the young lady next to him, captivated by her own rarely visible excitement. Enraptured, she bit her lip at the fact that the juggler now had two silver balls dancing along his arms, her hand fisting her long skirt in anticipation. Her eyes were wide, even behind the thick black frames that aimed to disguise her, capturing the juggler's movements that flowed like silk.
He almost wanted to capture the scene himself, the magic of the moment, to remind him of how her happiness made him content.
Garry chuckled to himself and rested a hand on her head, breaking her out of her reverie. She glanced at him curiously before returning her attention to the skilful juggler, too engrossed to really worry about his strange behaviour in that moment.
He watched her sigh in satisfaction at the end of the performance, as the juggler posed with three juggling balls balanced along his left arm, and stood with her to give him a standing ovation. The crowd followed suit and even though Garry wasn't paying attention most of the time, he too was impressed.
The juggler on stage gave a deep bow and looked up to scan the large crowd. When he turned his head to the left, Garry could have sworn he was staring at the two of them at the back. The audience was not that vast and the odd couple definitely stuck out. Ib was slightly flustered at the action but the man could only feel a dreaded sense of déjà vu.
The bird turned and looked straight at him, cocking its head to the side as if to mock him.
He wrapped an arm around Ib and she stood frozen, unsure of his strange behaviour. The Juggler stared at them a little too long, a little too intensely. Only when the performer walked off the outdoor stage did Garry unwrap his arm from around her.
"Are you usually this… um, affectionate?"
She rubbed her arm slightly and Garry, a grown man, almost blushed at his own inappropriately touchy feely behaviour lately. He repressed a groan, not wanting to create any misunderstandings.
"Sorry, I was just…" but his words were lost as the crowds around them grew denser and chattered incessantly, making their way to the rest of the attractions that the travelling carnival had to offer. She patiently waited for the volume of the crowd to finally soften so he didn't have to shout for her to hear him.
As they moved along with the crowd, Ib watched a few young boys run up to one of the more exciting rides, waving their tickets in the air. Suddenly jolting in realisation, she quickly rummaged around her small bag.
Garry watched the pianist take out two silver tickets of her own, taking them with thanks when she tapped his arm and offered them. He had almost forgotten the main reason for their meeting too. This meeting was more of an outing, but neither minded, enjoying their time together.
Finally feeling calm enough to talk, he gave her a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry for earlier. I felt… uneasy back then."
She blinked at his rather blunt answer. "Why?"
He didn't know how to explain it to her. A vision of intense black eyes flashed in his mind, another set he had seen years ago. Their time together was precious as it is, he had to wait weeks for her to free her schedule. He didn't want to ruin her efforts with his paranoia. Garry simply shrugged and smiled. "I'll tell you on another day. Shall we go on some rides?"
The way her eyes lighted up before she voiced her agreement made him laugh and this time she simply laughed at him back. "You're strange, Garry."
"I wouldn't disagree."
Nevertheless, she carefully intertwined her hand in his this time and tentatively tugged. He followed her without hesitation, making her grip a little firmer, her smile a little wider. Her eyes were set on the carousel.
"By the way, I didn't get to ask earlier, but who's the second ticket for?"
Garry hesitated for a fraction of a second. "My mother."
He had seen some interesting variety of pink decorating Ib's face before, but nothing prepared him for the colours combined with her stoic face. Stopping himself from laughing out loud, and almost failing miserably, he squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"You'll be fine," he said with a giant grin, "My mother already loves you."
The squeak she made finally made him burst. Hiding her face with her other hand, her eyes peeked out behind the spaces between the fingers, mind malfunctioning at the thought of the future meeting. "I'm not sure how to respond to that."
xIxBx
Spending time with Garry always left her in a dreamy state. There was never a dull moment with him. It was different now that they were adults, and free to explore at their own pace in a world filled with sunshine and fresh air, but it was still just as wonderful, if not more. The man with lavender hair was just as kind, if slightly awkward at certain moments and their conversations never failed to cheer her up and keep her on her toes.
*She took in a deep calming breath and stared at the darkening skies. After he dropped her off at the gate, she had to stop herself from skipping back to the front door, now very much aware of the eyes that stood behind the windows. There was no telling what sort of things her parents would gossip and scheme. They would probe and question, trying to discover who could make their usually shy, quiet and stoic daughter so unlike herself.
And if this was only their second time together, she wondered what she would be like in the far future.
Dumping her things in her room, she quickly changed and shifted into 'home' mode, prepared to just relax for the evening. She wanted to take his offer of dinner, but Ib knew that would only make her parents nosier and more excited than they already were.
Taking in a deep breath as she made her way through the halls, she called out for her beloved parents, "I'm home!"
"Welcome home."
The deep voice made her pause and she gave a soft sigh, not really in the mood to deal with her capricious manager. She was pleasantly surprised though, as she entered the drawing room, to find her old friend having tea on the chaise longue by the window, her parents and manager quietly discussing something in the middle of the room.
"Ayden, it's been a while."
The older woman hummed in agreement as the younger padded across the room to greet both parents with a kiss on the cheek and her manager with a nod. Finally, Ib sat next to her and gave a small smile. "How's everything?"
"Good. And you? I'm impressed with that hair, quite a complex braided bun." Ayden took another sip and watched her over the rim of the expensive China teacup, "Did you go out today?"
She glanced at the three other pairs of eyes in the room who had mysteriously and abruptly finished their discussion, two of which glinted in interest and one that seemed… strangely annoyed. Her hand self-consciously went up to her still done hair and she gave only the slightest of nods. Ayden could only smirk, that knowing look in her eyes.
"You seem busy lately, how's work?
"I got a spot in the winter collection."
Her eyes widened slightly at the news, knowing how long the woman had been aiming for the opportunity. "That's amazing!"
The woman with burgundy eyes, so similar to her own, gave her a careful look before she continued with her next sentence. "It's a shame I can't be in two places at once. This particular project is going to take all my time and energy, I don't think I can keep you company in this tour like we talked about, or even visit."
The youngest in the room froze, suddenly realising the implications of her old friend's new opportunity. Ib's small smile wavered for a second, but she shook her head, keeping her mask perfectly in place. "Your happiness is more important than mine, I'm glad you're doing so well."
Ayden frowned at her words. "You shouldn't be sacrificing yourself like that. We'll keep in touch over the phone."
'More than now?' Ib silently wondered. Ayden rarely kept in touch unless she was visiting. "It's fine, we're both so busy. And it's not like I need you to hold my hand. My mum and dad are still—"
"Ib." She turned to face them, suddenly dejected at the loss of her support system. She mentally reprimanded herself, what happened to being an independent adult?
"You two as well?"
Her mother stared her straight in her eyes, her straightforward approach never changing. "There's an important development in the company they need me for. As the chairperson, I have to be there."
Her father took out his cigar from his mouth and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "The new plans aren't coming along at all for this new project. We're having a lot of trouble and they need me too and… well…"
"We thought you were mature enough to handle this next long tour on your own, seeing how you handle your normal business very well."
The news of everyone weren't shocking. She knew that as the Queen, the head architect and the designer, they were talented and invaluable to their own professions. She wasn't unused to being alone, but she didn't like to be as lonely as she felt in that moment.
Turning to Ellis, she half expected him to apologise and leave her too, but he smirked and crossed his arms. His honey brown eyes twinkled in amusement at her deadpan expression. "Don't worry Princess, I'm all yours."
She turned back to her parents. "Are you at least coming for Grand-mere's Christmas dinner?"
Her mother and father replied at once.
"Can't say."
"We'd love to."
They turn to each other and sighed, turning back to their daughter. His father put out his cigar. "We'll make up our mind, Ib. Somehow."
The way her mother squeezed her father's hand did not make her hopeful. Ayden got up to pour her a cup of Earl Grey, preparing it just the way she liked with three cubes of sugar and no milk. Ib hardly blinked at the rare offer of help, too lost in thought to say anything but a simple thank you. There was so much to do, so much to prepare for. She couldn't afford to dream anymore, it was time to wake up.
xTxBxCx
COMING SOON:
"Garry…"
She was obviously mulling over something in her mind. He had time to take another forkful of cake before she made up her mind. Taking in a deep breath, she leaned forward to catch his eye, strands of her soft, long hair falling over her shoulder.
"There's someone important I'd like you to meet."
"You didn't hesitate this much before showing me off to your parents," he teased. "Is it your boyfriend?"
"It's a girl, Garry." Ib's normally impassive face was unusually serious. "And she's important to me."
AN: The contact juggling scene was inspired by a YouTube video called JJF2012 Championship, search it up and it's the first link. Please watch it, it's honestly really fun and you can see why Ib was so captivated. My descriptions does not do it justice T_T
I sincerely and deeply apologise for taking so long.
It's hard being a medical student by day and Ib fanfic writing vigilante by night, but I'm very glad to have finally updated C: Even with my limited time, I will never give up on this fic. The Music Box is very precious to me and I want to craft it as carefully and as beautifully as I can.
Thank you so much for your patience and your kind words, especially the guest reviewers I can't reply to personally. I hope I can continue to please and entertain with this humble story. If there are any grammatical mistakes, spelling errors or inconsistencies in the story please let me know C: Please review! C: Thank you for reading!
You may ignore this little rant: On a side note, TMB was originally published at the end of 2012 and wow 3 years make a lot of difference. I cringed so hard when I read back the earlier chapters like wow so OOC wow so cringe wow wow wow so ewwwww what was I even thinking. Oh the difference in thinking time makes lolz. Okay rant over goodbye. Take care x
P.s. Please have a look at the poll on my profile, I'd like your opinions please.