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: Let's try something different from the usual moster-length chapters C: Each of these ficlets will only be 500-600 words long. They will all be set after the "Memories' Crannies" ending and based on the question, "How would Ib and Garry meet again after all those years, if they ever do?" The lovely words are all found from this amazing tumblr blog I will post on my profile. Other answers you may seek may also be there. And so, happy reading!

Mamihlapinatapei

(n.) the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start (Yagan, Tierra del Fuego)

He was irrevocably separate from the rest, no matter where he stood.

Garry adjusted the strap of his cello case and lightly sighed, cursing the sudden change of schedule in his string quartet's practice times. The morning train was uncomfortable, with the guilt of taking up extra space with his instrument, and yet he had little other choice to travel. He didn't mind the curious stares, he was used to it, but disliked the hush whispers that accompanied them.

He stuffed his hand into his tattered coat pocket and picked at a hole inside with his forefinger. His right toes scuffed the edge of the yellow line, before he briefly contemplated sliding his whole foot over. The appendage moved on its own. He pulled it back quickly. No one had seemed to notice his odd behaviour, being too preoccupied with their own worlds. He ran a hand through his long hair and sighed.

A rambunctious laughter rolled from the other side of the train platform.

He found the source easily enough. She was tall and tanned, wearing a private school uniform which distinguished her from the rest of the high-school students, and her long hair was tied into a high ponytail that bounced whenever she animatedly talked to her friend. The friend contrasted her, being short and pale, with chestnut hair cropped to her chin. The teenager laughed again at another quiet remark and slung her arm around the other girl, jostling both their faces into his line of sight.

He stared.

The fair young lady stared back.

She had beautiful eyes, bloody red eyes.

Ponytail girl blinked at him and blushed, excitedly nudging to the other.

A pain gripped behind his eyes and Garry shakily massaged his temples, suppressing the sudden inexplicable urge to vomit. A vision of a nine year old child shifted into his vision when he had studied the red-eyed girl. Roses, blue and red flashed before his eyelids, images of a room full of dolls, eyeballs and headless mannequins tugging at his subconscious. He glanced back, and was startled to find an equally intense gaze settling upon him.

Her hand softly grazed the red ribbon around her collar, tugging at it gently. Her eyes closed, and then opened, the garnet shade faintly shinier than before. Ponytail girl pulled at her sleeve, now quiet and concerned at their strange communication. The teenager tilted her head at him, asking the question that plagued his own mind, the hint of a sudden sadness layering her previous impassive demeanour.

Do I know you?

He does. He knows her name, but he doesn't remember. Why was there a block, as if his memories were lost? He stared at her blankly, mute and deaf to his surroundings. She refused to look away, despite the flush that betrayed her shyness, or perhaps embarrassment. Ponytail girl shook her, and she finally surrendered. He recalled how to breathe. She glanced back.

The trains had arrived, separating them once more. The wave of passengers flowed in and out as he stood, silent and stunned.

Garry adjusted the strap of his cello case and lightly sighed, taking a step forward.

AN: I plan to make each of these moments unique, and not just the typical "HOLY CRAP SURPRISE IT'S YOUR LOLI WAIFU" or "I MUST SAVE GARRY FROM THE EVIL THAT IS THE GUERTENA" trope that we see a lot. I like them too, don't misunderstand, but variety is golden. Ib has a lot of potential that can be explored, that isn't limited to the confines of the gallery, and I want to see more. If you feel like expanding any of these, or want to request a moment, feel free to PM me. Please review the chapter if you liked it, didn't like it, or have any other thoughts. Take care x