Year: 3

Season: Spring

Ib: Age 11

Ib: Schol sux

Garry: School* Sucks*

Ib; Stop that

Garry: Learning how to spell properly is good! People treat you better when your grammer is good.

Ib: Grammar*

Garry: Haha.

Ib: ne way, I can spell fine, faster 2 talk this way

Garry: Anyway*

Ib: You're annoying.

Garry: Haha, there you go.

Ib: Can we met up

Garry: Meet*

Ib: Garry!1

Garry: Haha, sorry, sorry! I don't work today, so we can meet. I want to hear about your first week in middle school.

Ib: dont remind me.

Garry: Don't*

Garry: Ib?

Garry: Alright, fine, I'll lay off for now.

Ib: promise?

Garry: Yes, I promise.

Ib: were do we meet?

Garry: Usual spot?

Ib: ok

Garry stood up from his couch, put his cellphone in his pocket, and stretched his arms. Turning his neck a little, he managed to make an audible crack, causing him to let out a sigh of relief, "There we go." He muttered, turning his head towards the calendar Ib had hung up on his wall to make it look less sparse. He could see that it was April 18th, the first Saturday of the new school year. "Right, they only have half days on Saturdays," He mumbled to himself, as he picked up his jacket from his couch and began to put it on. It didn't take him very long to get completely dressed, and out the door.

When he arrived at the park, he saw Ib sitting there, leafing through her cellphone. He started to walk over to her, noting the school uniform she was wearing. He found it to be pretty amusing, since he thought that most schools had stopped having uniforms, and seeing her in her sailor suit made him think of his childhood. He didn't recall there being a dress code when he went to school, that stuff was too old fashioned even for him! The most noticeable thing though, was the prominent red scarf he got for her birthday around her neck. "Hey, Ib." He called to her, stopping by the bench she was sitting on.

She looked up from her phone looking momentarily startled, but then she smiled, "Hello, Garry!" She exclaimed with joy upon seeing him.

He took a seat beside her, "So, how has school been?" He couldn't help but ask, since he had noticed her uniform. He started to grin when he noticed an annoyed expression crossing her face.

"It's boring." She groaned, "I felt like sleeping the entire time."

"The first week is usually the most boring, you have to sit through the teacher telling you about themselves, then you got to read the syllabus for each class for the entire duration..." He groaned just thinking about it. He could understand why Ib was so disgruntled, and he sympathized with her completely.

She nodded along to every word he said, "Yeah, it's very boring to sit through." She agreed with him with a final nod.

"Well, have you made any friends?" He asked, changing the subject to something that he hoped was a nicer topic. Unfortunately, she glanced away, and Garry realized this was probably a bad topic to bring up, so he quickly tried to think of something else to talk about. "Ahem! Uh, you should join a club!" He blurted out the next thing he could think of.

"A club?" She muttered, she was still looking away, and Garry decided he had to elaborate for her.

"Meet some new people, make some friends, do something you enjoy doing." He explained, "You know, that sort of thing."

She looked forward pensively, biting her lower lip deep in thought. Garry watched her, wondering what her response to that would be, but he patiently waited until she was ready to tell him. "That sounds like a good idea." She finally decided, and she finally looked back towards him, "What do you think I should do?"

"Something you're good at, or that you like doing, like... Cooking?" As much as he didn't want her over to prevent misunderstandings, he had to admit that her cooking was absolutely fantastic.

She shook her head violently at that, "I hate cooking." She seemed to grimace at the mere thought of it, "I don't want to do that all my life."

"You seemed to enjoy it before." He noted, his voice mixed with a little confusion. She truly did - when she was cooking in his kitchen for her birthday, she seemed to be having a great time.

"I only enjoy it when I do it with you." She murmured, feeling her cheeks burn a little, and she again looked away to hide her blush.

That caught Garry off guard, but he quickly composed himself, "Oh - really? I hadn't noticed." He stammered out, unsure of what else to say.

"A- anyway!" She quickly changed the subject, "Something I like to do..." She looked thoughtful again, and began to tap her chin in thought. Garry watched her do this for a few minutes, and finally decided to try and list things off yet again.

"You can also join band, or do some sports if you'd like." Garry spoke, thinking of things at the top of his head. He didn't think Ib was really into either of those things, since she never talked to him about sports or music whenever they were together, but it didn't hurt to bring them up all the same.

She shook her head, "I don't play any instruments, and I don't like sports very much." Garry nodded, he figured as much.

"Well, what's the one thing you really, really like to do?" He asked, figuring that Ib should be the one to figure it out. He already suspected that she already had something she enjoyed to do, since she seemed to be hesitant to talk about it.

"Well..." She took a quick glance at him, and then back down to her lap, where she was twiddling her fingers nervously, "I do like painting." She whispered it very quietly, but he caught it, and went still.

"Art." He mumbled, realizing now why she acted so nervous, "That's a good thing to like." He replied absently. "If that's what you enjoy, go for it." He definitely wasn't going to hold her back if that was what she truly wanted to do.

"B-but, you don't seem to like it." She muttered, noticing how quiet he got. She looked up to him, and their eyes met, and Garry realized that she must really not have wanted to offend him.

He smiled towards her, trying to her more comfortable with the idea, "It's not about what I do or don't like, Ib, if you want to paint, go for it, don't let worrying about me hold you back."

She seemed to bury her head inside her scarf as he said that, "I just don't want to upset you..." She looked back down, as if she were afraid that he was going to start yelling at her or something.

"What?" He asked, feeling completely baffled, "Ib, it would take a LOT more than that to upset me." He chuckled, "A whole lot more."

"Really?" She asked, reluctantly looking up at him. He could see the worry plainly on her face, so he tried his best to make her feel at ease.

"Really. Honestly Ib, there's not a lot you can do to make me mad at you," He replied, giving her head a small pat, "Seriously, I can't believe you were so hesitant about that." She let out a small sigh, and seemed to relax as he pat her. When he stopped, she looked over to him sheepishly, let out a forced chuckle.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, "I shouldn't have thought so little of you."

He rolled his eyes, "There's nothing to be sorry about, don't apologize. Given what I've been through... I suppose I should thank you for being so considerate."

Her eyes lit up, glad that he seemed to be completely ok with it, and she lightly smiled, "If you say so, I won't apologize then." He sat there in silence for a little bit, noticing that Ib kept stealing glances at him, and her smile was gone. He held in his sigh, not wanting to alarm Ib, but he knew that she was still thinking about his own reaction. He had to prove to her that he was fine with her choice.

"So, what made you want to start painting?" He asked her, trying to get information. Since they were friends, Ib was more than willing to indulge him.

"I've enjoyed it since I was little," She admitted, "It's why... It's why I was at the museum back then. Mom and Dad though that I would enjoy looking at that." She started to kick her feet back and forth as she recalled the memory.

"I see." He muttered, "I've never heard about this before." Though he supposed it made sense, since Ib was looking around the gallery, exploring the different models, paintings, and other art on display.

"I didn't paint for a while afterwards, since... you know." She looked aside, and Garry could see the signs of a little girl who was forced to mature far too early, her eyes were distant, and he knew that she was probably recalling the horrors that they had to face together.

"When did you start again?" He asked, putting his hand on her shoulder gently, trying to keep her thoughts away from the monsters. It worked fortunately, and she snapped out of it, looking up at him.

"Just recently, mom asked me why I never painted anymore, and I told her that I didn't want to do it anymore." She explained, "I used to do it all the time when I was a kid." Garry was about to point out that she was still a kid, but then he realized that perhaps she wasn't quite a child anymore, given what she went through, so he reworded what he was about to say.

"So what made you want to do it again?" He asked, getting the last bit of the story from her.

"Mom said that she felt that it was a shame, that the artwork I created was really good, and it made her happy to see me being so creative." She looked down with a sad smile on her face, "It reminded me of you, I know now that I shouldn't have said those things to you back then about your paintings, when I still wasn't over it either."

"So you started again?" Garry asked, still holding her shoulder so she wouldn't slip off and think of the other world.

"I felt that I had to do it, to really get over what happened." She admitted, looking up to him, "If I can face my fears, maybe I won't have nightmares anymore. Maybe I won't keep remembering the gallery world..." She gripped the hem of her skirt.

"That's very mature of you," he told her, feeling both happy and sad. He was happy to see that she was getting over the ordeal in her own way with the help of her parents, but he was sad that she still was so damaged from the after effects of the gallery. Granted, she wasn't too badly hurt, but it was still noticeable. He really hoped her parents were keeping a close eye on her.

She gave a nervous laugh, "My hand was shaking when I picked up my brush, but when I started to paint, I realized that I loved to do it. Over the day, I got more and more confident." She let out a sigh, "Since then, I've been painting more and more... I still shake whenever I start, and I still hesitate on using some colors, but It's getting a lot easier."

"And soon you'll be able to do a hobby you enjoy without fear," he pat her gently on the shoulder, "That's very good Ib, I feel very proud of you for doing that."

"Really?" She asked, looking at him with almost a needing look. She was still a child, and she wanted confirmation that what she was doing was the right thing, so he nodded to appease her.

"Yeah, you got over your fear, and managed to get back something you had lost. I wish I had your strength." He explained, seeing her look almost relieved, however, that relief was short lived, and she frowned as she looked at him for a long moment.

Right when he was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable, she mumbled, "Maybe I could help you." He blinked a few times, before it actually registered with him what she said.

"No, this is something I should do myself." He explained to her. Not only did he really not need her help, he really didn't want to try getting over it. He knew it was a step on the road to recovery, but it was just too much for him.

"You always do that." She stated, giving her a glare with her red eyes.

"Do what?" He asked, genuinely uncertain of what she meant.

"You always brush off my attempts to help you." She explained to him, crossing her arms as she looked up at the much taller man beside her.

"I'm an adult, I shouldn't involve you in my personal problems." He let out a forced laugh, and reached up to rub the back of his head sheepishly. Honestly, he had no need for Ib's help, it was his own battle he should fight, and he didn't want to burden her.

"You always say that too." She mumbled, "I want to help. Why won't you let me?"

"I'm happy you want to help me so much, Ib, but I can do this myself." He tried to explain yet again, but she merely shook her head.

"It was because of my mom that I could start to get over it, maybe you need someone to be there for you." She wondered aloud, "I can be there for you."

"I really don't think-" He started to speak, but Ib interrupted him immediately.

"I DO think so." She stated defiantly, her red eyes giving him a cold stare, "You have been hiding this for long enough, I think." She practically growled as she reached over and took hold of his hand.

His mouth fell open at the complete change in her demeanor, "I- Ib?" He tried to say her name to get her back to reality, but she ignored him.

She jumped off the bench, and tried pulling on his hand, "Let's do this now!" He stood up, and allowed her to lead him a few steps forward.

"Do what now?" He asked, stopping her in her tracks in the middle of the sidewalk. He had to know now before they went any further.

"I'm going to make you face your fear." She said with determination, gripping his hand tighter and trying to pull him away.

"What? Fear?" He exclaimed, allowing the smaller girl to drag him where she wanted. They had only been talking for maybe ten minutes, and now she was trying to pull him off to who knows where. "Ib, where are we going?"

"Your house." She answered, "You need someone to be with you for this." She continued to pull him along, ignoring the odd looks of the people walking by.

"What?" He said, and then it clicked in his mind, "Ib, wait, I really don't need this." He gripped her hand and came to another stop. She tried to move forward, but keeping her still was quite easy, considering she was much smaller than he was, and her strength didn't even come close to matching his.

"Really?" She said, turning to face him, "I think you do." She crossed her arms, drawing her lip into a thin line, something she did whenever she was determined to do something her own way. She was being incredibly stubborn, and such a child.

"Ib, you can't just make people do things when they're not ready." He tried to explain.

"When will you be ready then?" She asked him, glaring up at him.

"I'll get to it eventually, just not now."

"You always say that! I'm trying to help you!" She exclaimed.

"I doesn't matter if you're trying to help! It's too early, I don't need help!" His patience was beginning to wear thin now, and he tried to explain things to her without snapping and yelling at her.

She exhaled a large sigh and her fist began to tighten, "You're just afraid!"

"Afraid?" He stared at her wide eyed, "Why in the world would I be afraid of paintings of all things?!"

"Then why don't you put them back up?" She asked, her arms still crossed, and she didn't look convinced at all.

"You know just as well as I do why they're not up! They reminds me too much of... you know!" She should know better! He didn't have them up because of the nightmares they caused!

"Of the art gallery?" She mentioned the horrible place, and Garry nodded.

"Yes!" Garry exclaimed in exasperation, "It has been three years, and I still am not over it! So what? It will go away with time!"

"You're supposed to face your fears," Ib replied, shaking her head, "You're just running!"

Garry looked around the sidewalk, noticing a lot of people were glancing their way as they walked by, and he knew he had to diffuse this before it caused too big of a scene. "We are not doing this, and that's final." He said as sternly as possible, having seen some parents talk to their children like that when they were acting out of line.

She frowned deeply, and her eyes began to shine, "You need to do this..." She was beginning to lose her ground, but Garry did the worst thing possible - he lost his cool.

"Stop it!" He snapped, "I'll get to it when I'm ready! Stop being such a child, Ib!" Ib's behavior seemed to dissolve with that tone, and instead was replaced by an expression that made him feel like a monster. It looked as if he had just took her pet bunny, and cut it into a thousand little pieces right in front of her. Her bottom lip was trembling, and her eyes shone with barely contained tears. Any anger he held towards her was now completely gone, and he felt awful for snapping at her as he did. "Ib, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that. It's just... I don't know, I don't want to do it, you know?" When he went to kneel down, she turned around and ran off as fast as she could.

"Shit." He mumbled under his breathe as he watched her run off into the distance. There were now some people openly staring at him, some with pitying looks, some with looks of understanding, and others with looks of anger. None knew of his situation, but he wished now more than ever to have reacted differently to Ib's determination. She was only trying to help him, and he threw it back in her face. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forceful, but she was right, he was just afraid, and kept running from the problem. If he didn't face it today, would it be tomorrow? Or the day after tomorrow?

"No..." He sighed, "Hate to admit it, but she's right." He let out a bitter laugh as he looked up. Not seeing her anywhere, he called out, "Ib! I'm sorry!" He began to run with all his might in the direction he saw her going. He had the advantage that he was quite a bit taller than her, so he could cover way more ground than she could, but he had the disadvantage in the fact that he had absolutely no idea where she ran off to in the short time he stood there. "Where is she..." He mumbled under his breath as he came to an intersection, and looked both ways, catching only a glimpse of her red scarf before it disappeared around a corner. He ran after it as quickly as he could possibly go, making it there in just a short time, but unfortunately he had lost her again, and wandered around a little bit, trying to catch a glimpse of red.

"Where are you, where are you." He mumbled, "Come on Ib, you were right, I didn't mean to make you cry!" He shouted, but all that did was make it so the people around him started giving him odd looks. Gritting his teeth, he continued to run around looking for any sign of her, but then an idea hit him, he opened his cellphone and sent her a few text messages:

Garry: Ib, where are you? We need to talk.

Garry: I'm sorry.

Garry: Forgive me.

He sent several messages over the course of a minute, but got no reply. Cursing to himself, he quick-dialed her number and held it up to his ear, "The number you are trying to call right now is currently unavailable, please-"

"Damn it." He muttered, slumping onto the side of a building, gasping for breathe. He dialed the number again, but got the same message. She must have turned off her phone, "She must hate me right now." He mumbled, falling to the ground, continuing his labored breathe. They had just met not even a half hour ago, and it had dissolved to this? They were supposed to go eat somewhere, and enjoy each other's company, the same that they'd been doing for years now!

He thought back on it, and realized that ever since Ib's birthday a couple months ago, she had been acting strangely. Sorting through his memories, he realized now why she was acting this way – it was due to the sadness she felt upon seeing him lock away all of the paintings that he loved. It had been years since they have been in there, and it must have stung at her that he was still suffering so much more than her even though so much time had passed. He sat there for over an hour, his head down, and his cellphone in his hand, not saying a word, nor caring how he looked to the random people passing by. He knew now that he had to do what Ib wanted, it was always there, burning in the back of his mind, and he knew he would eventually have to face it, but he didn't realize that it would explode in his face like this.

"I need to do it for Ib," He decided, "Then whenever we meet again, I will get on my knees, apologize to her, and beg for her forgiveness." With that decided, he heaved himself up, and walked towards his home stiffly. Upon reaching his house, he paused, because sitting there, right in front of his door, was Ib. Her head down in the scarf he had gotten her a few months ago, her hands wrapped around her knees. He couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not, but nothing prepared him for the immense amount of relief he felt upon seeing her there, safe and sound. "Ib!" He cried, and he ran the rest of the way to his door.

The girl shook when her name was called, and her head shot up, it was obvious that she had been crying for a while. "Ib," He stopped in front of her, and fell to his knees, and bowed deeply in front of her, "Please, forgive me. I'm sorry I snapped at you, and I'm sorry for not realizing that you were right..."

"Garry?" She mumbled, wiping her eyes of the remaining tears that were still there. She looked at him in confusion, "Why are you on the ground?"

"I'm so sorry." Garry repeated, "I didn't mean to yell at you - you were right."

"But... I wanted to apologize to you." She mumbled getting to her feet, though she grimaced since they were a bit numb, "I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

"No, you were right to do so," He replied, still not looking up from the ground, "I wouldn't have realized that I was running away from it otherwise. You were right about it, and I just pushed you away."

"I shouldn't have ran." She looked aside, as if she couldn't bear to look at Garry, "You just startled me when you talked like that..."

"I won't do it again." He promised, "I really didn't mean to make you cry!"

"I'm sorry." She replied, getting on her own knees and bowing to him like he was for her. She kept her eyes to the ground, not looking up at him at all.

"What?" He looked across to her, feeling completely baffled, "Why are you doing that?"

"This is my fault." She replied, still not looking up at him."

"No, it's mine." Garry felt somewhat annoyed - he was trying to apologize to her! She had nothing to apologize for!

"It's not your fault." She told him. Oh, now she asked for it!

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Yes!"

"No!"

Garry just stared at her, both of them were openly glaring at each other, trying to take the blame for what happened. Blinking a few times, he just started to laugh, and Ib joined in. After laughing for a bit, he stood up, and reached a hand out to help Ib back to her feet, "Look, there's nothing to forgive you for, you did nothing wrong."

"Nor did you." She stubbornly kept it up, and he realized that she wasn't going to let him apologize if she wasn't allowed to, so he finally relented.

He raised his arms up in defeat, "Fine, Ib, you win. You did nothing wrong, and neither did I, so there's nothing to forgive each other for."

"Really?" She looked hopeful, "So you're not mad?"

"Maybe at the time," He admitted, "But no. Now I am just very glad to see you." He grinned down at her, and reached forward to pat her head like he always did. She didn't even seem annoyed with it, and allowed him to do it, a smile crossing her face.

"I'm glad too." She muttered, a smile wide on her face, and when he was done patting her head,she went up to him and wrapping her arms around him in a hug, "I'm so happy that you're not mad at me." She whispered, still smiling as tears started falling from her eyes again, "I didn't want you to be mad at me."

"I'm not." He assured her, rubbing the back of her head, "but there's still one issue remaining."

"What?" She asked, still holding him.

"Would you like to join me? I'm going to go get my paintings." He felt her body tense up in her hold.

She looked up at him wide eyed, "Really?"

"Yeah, and like you said, having a friend there would make me feel a lot better." She nodded, and let him go, opting to grab his hand as he unlocked the door to his house, and he led them towards the hallways with three doors: One to the bathroom, one to his bedroom, and the one they were looking for, the door to his closet. "Stay out here," He told her, opening the closet door.

She watched him enter the closet, and come out a moment later carrying a rather large box. He shut the door behind them, and led Ib into his living room, where he sat the box on the floor, and sat beside it. "So they are in here?" She asked.

"Yeah," He answered, staring intently at the box. She didn't say anything more, and she just sat beside him, waiting patiently for him to build up the courage to open it himself. Finally she saw his hand twitch, and he moved it towards the box, shaking slightly. He reached the box, and gripped the lid, lifting it open ever so slowly. When he was about to completely lift the lid off, he paused.

"Do it whenever you're ready." Ib whispered to him, trying to sound as reassuring as she could. He smiled towards her, wondering if she even knew how comforting her voice was, and then he lifted the lid all the way, allowing a bit of dust to fill the air.

"I'm sorry," He coughed as the dust went all over in the air, "I haven't opened this for almost two and a half years now." Ib nodded, burying her face into her scarf, and watched the dust settled. "Here it is." He muttered, lifting out the first painting, "I bought this because it reminded me so much of my mother." He looked at it tenderly, and then angled it so she could see too. It was simply a painting of a older woman sitting with her hands crossed on her lap. The face was difficult to make out, but she supposed the woman was smiling at them.

He wiped away some of the dust, and she could make it out better, the woman had a very pleasant smile, and Ib realized now why he must have hidden it away, "She has blonde hair." She muttered, and the imagine immediately reminded her of one person... No wonder Garry put it away.

"Yeah, she does." He replied, looking at it, "Brown eyes and blonde hair, and she is wearing a Victorian dress. What an odd painting." He mumbled continuing to look at it, "I'm sure you know why I put this away now."

Ib nodded, her memory flashing back to when a very similar looking girl had tried to kill the both of them, and nearly succeeded. "Maybe I can fix it for you." She replied, gently taking the frame from his hands, "I can paint the hair a different color for you, if you'd like me to try." She looked at him questioningly.

"You haven't painted for years though, I thought you said." He stated, looking at her in surprise.

She blushed, "Yeah, and I'm not very good either." She suddenly felt very stupid for even offering it in the first place. Why would he want her to potentially ruin the painting? Why did she even offer? She felt really stupid all the sudden.

"I would love it if you'd fix it for me, Ib." Garry's sentence broke her out of her spiraling thoughts, and she looked at him in surprise now.

"Wha-? But, I'm no good, you should take it to someone with the talent to do it, or..." She mumbled, trying to think of something else for him to do. She didn't want him to be mad at her when she inevitably ruined it!

He let out a laugh, and with a wide smile he replied, "I want you to do it, can you do this for me?"

She realized the significance of him asking her now, he was finally allowing her to help him, as she had wanted to do for years. Her negative thoughts disappeared, and she smiled herself, "I - I will! What color do you want it to be?"

"My mother's hair was violet," He supplied, "But if you can't do that, just make it black."

She examined the picture, and fortunately the blonde color used was very light, so she should be able to paint over it in the more darker violet color without it looking odd or out of place, "I can do it." She stated, giving him her brightest smile.

"Thank you." He replied, allowing her to hold the painting for now, "Oh, wow, I forgot about this one." He reached into the box and pulled out the next painting. Ib looked at it with interest, and she felt happier than she had in months, or perhaps years. Garry was finally opening up to her, and trusting her with tasks he normally would've said were too adult for her. She smiled lightly as she listened to Garry explain all the paintings, being sure to hold the only reminder of his mother with care.

XxXxXxX

Notes:

It took me a bit, but I decided to make Garry's hair color natural. Also, I'm sorry if you found this chapter to be too melodramatic, even as I was editing this, I was thinking it had too much melodrama, so I edited and changed a lot of it to try and make it seem at least a little bit natural, but I don't know if I succeeded. Regardless, I enjoyed writing it, so I supposed that is all that matters.

See you all in the next chapter.

CHAPTER 4 REVISED: 7/29/2013 - Added in a lot more detail, and combined a lot of sentences. This chapter had 1.8k additional words added to it.