Prepare yourselves for a lot more confusion. And I do not own Chii, Min-kun, Hideki-chan, or anyone else. I definitely don't own XXXHolic. You have heard nothing!

You heard what he said

This will never stop

Just take that knife and

Do it

Kill me

It's the only way

Chapter 7: Hitsuzen is Unusual

Hitsuzen. So this means it was always meant to be, wasn't it? But how can I find that new beginning if I keep hanging onto the past? Maybe I need a change of venue; I want a new key to my heart. Perhaps instead of searching for something I know is wrong, I need to embrace my destiny.

…

"Yuki," said Minoru, adjusting his glasses and examining the text on the monitor. Right now his expression was beyond serious, and slightly worried. "Please translate that patch of text in the upper left quadrant."

"Yes, Lord Minoru," said Yuki. She processed the information for a couple moments.

It was an odd, outdated portmanteau of Latin and Greek, but so far, most of the book had been easy to translate using the software he had installed on Yuki. Once the semantics were processed, it was quite simple to understand the dark contest that Amber had mentioned before. It was strange how he had suddenly ended up dabbling in such tales of misty fantasy. Minoru thought he had passed that wide-eyed idealist phase of childhood, but the fight he'd witnessed earlier had opened his mind in many more ways than even he thought possible.

"Translation complete," she announced, then read the result aloud for the youngster to hear:

"Just as the prophecy stated: One will become the gate, one will be the guardian, one will be the key, and few will cross the barrier. No stronger bond could there ever be between those that are one, and the ones that are three."

"The next page as well, bottom left if you will," he added. Interwoven with the words were strange, unclear illustrations. Sometimes there were odd, squiggly runes, or even bold streaks of dark ink to symbolize flames or wind. Nevertheless, one symbol kept repeating wherever he looked. At first Minoru couldn't understand what it was, but as he examined it closer, the pieces seemed to fall into place. He didn't know why, but Minoru recognized it for what it was: A Black Butterfly.

Yuki continued to translate, her voice taking on a more somber tenor.

"But who may enter the paradise, will be determined by skill. Many will arise to the challenge: those who are not afraid to fight, slaughter and kill. There can only be one, only one may pass. Quitting will not save you, but working together may avert The Calamity. A dark heart will try to enter, one stronger than most who will try. His presence there will be its fall.

One with the will of iron, an incorruptible heart, shall be his equal in strength.

Neither can be left standing while the other exists, and disaster will reign if evil prevails.

The heart of the butterfly is the key to Elysium."

"Minoru," said Yuzuki. She had been there in the room with him and Yuki, and the further they translated the text, the more she became agitated. "I wonder if there was a way to help Garrett-san and Amber-chan." She was very inclined to pace the room, but she had overwritten her original settings for standby quite some time ago. It had been Minoru's sister who would pace erratically when she was irritated, and since he had told Yuzuki to stop acting so much like her, she'd tried to be as unique as she possibly could.

"It does speak of other players being able to compete," said Minoru. His finger trailed downwards across the now pristine page. Half an hour ago, he'd picked up some of the language, and was translating it roughly before letting Yuzuki and Yuki polish off the grammatical errors he seemed to be coming across in his own understanding. "But they aren't allowed participate for themselves."

"How so?"

"It seems it began with 108 players, and one prize. The object is to reach a certain place. There are two things they have to collect in order to reach this ultimate goal. One is a gateway, I believe, if that makes any sense. The second is a key of some sort. The last challenge is to defeat a guardian of some kind, but apparently if you played fair and square, that shouldn't be any problem. However, more contestants may enter, but only in a supportive role of the original 108. "

"What does this have to do with our visitors?"

"They seem to be entangled within the game somehow, but they don't seem to be original contestants."

"What would that mean? From what you say, they are helping someone. But you don't think that is so, do you, Minoru?"

"No, I'm afraid not." He tapped his eraser on the book's page, tracing the symbol in the air above the paper. "From all this data I've been compiling since yesterday, I can only come to one conclusion."

Minoru repeatedly clicked the mouse at his workstation and pulled up a few images up, displaying several pages of text. Yuzuki looked over the pages; interest peaked by the fervor of his working speed.

"See these samples from the book?" he asked, adjusting his glasses. "It expounds on the backstory of the origin of this so-called contest." Every single piece of text had a small blurry image of a butterfly next to it. "This symbol in particular pops up quite often. Near the beginning of the book there was a mention of a certain woman who travelled dimensions, who was given the title 'The Black Butterfly'."

...

Overhead the moon hung low and full, watching the darkened city with its patient, watchful eyes. Dita stood on the office-building's rooftop, staring off into the distance at the stars. Her eyes were blank for a few seconds, but after a minute, she snapped out of it and went to sit near Zima. He was focused on the Tokyo Tower in the distance, its lights illuminating the night like a giant nightlight. Zima looked at his companion and grinned.

"So what'd the bosses say?" he said.

"We have more cases on our docket, if that's what you mean," said Dita. She rested her chin on one knee and frowned. Sometimes she wished they could have a vacation, but that was something only humans received. Dita briefly wondered why she was thinking of these things in the first place, but quickly brushed it off.

"Man," Zima scratched behind his head. "I'm getting tired of running around spying on people."

"I know what you mean, but we have to." She would have sighed if she had the breath. "We are Persocoms after all; it's in our programming to follow their orders."

Zima nodded. It was true, and there was no denying it. Lately he had been thinking about their purpose. It was only a matter of time before they outlived their usefulness, and when that happened he wasn't sure how to process the possibility of them being "retired".

"So what's the update?" he asked. He wasn't feeling up to reading the latest mission himself, although he had received it as well.

"It's her," said Dita simply. Her voice carried a little more than just a hint of venom.

"Her?" said Zima. "I've no idea—," he paused. There were only three people she referred to in that tone. One was girl they had tried to stop earlier and failed. The other was that unidentified male Persocom that they had encountered a few days ago, and the last… Well the last they had met only once before, and the only reason they knew about her was because she was in Zima's database, like Mihara's "daughters" had been. Smirking to himself, Zima raised his head upwards, to where the stars should have been. The lights from the city nearly washed them out, but he could still see faint glimmers of light through the glare.

If only Mihara had kept his research to himself, they wouldn't have these problems.

"So we have to track her down, do we?" All this running around was monotonous, even for a Persocom. Maybe an assignment on the beach would be more enjoyable? All the sea and sand would be nice for a change.

"Of course," answered Dita sharply. She shifted again, to hang her legs off the side of the building and looked away, hiding a slight blush.

Zima shook his head. Typical 'tsun tsun' reaction, he wondered when was she going to go into the 'dere dere' phase. It was a full moon tonight so probably two to three days tops.

"Think she'll release her program?" he asked.

"I don't doubt it."

"Well, now," he lay flat back on the edge of the rooftop, resting his head on Dita's lap. "Things are about to get even more interesting then."

Dita was still for quite a while, trying to process is actions. Her partner wondered for a moment if she had frozen from the clear internal conflict. To his surprise, he found a fist bopping him lightly on the head.

"Baka," she mumbled, before smiling lightly and closing her eyes.

...

Chii sat up on the futon, her newest book laid out in front of her. Hideki was next to her, lying in much the same way, looking on. The futon had been pushed up against the wall, and there were a few pillows propping them up. There was something about this book that really was nagging him, almost like it was silently begging him to read it. Since he felt like he hadn't been spending much time with Chii as he should, Hideki decided he and his girlfriend would have a good time by snuggling and reading together.

Regrettably, Chii hadn't picked that cute little book she had in her arms earlier.

The Broken Doll

Vol. 1

By Chouko Kuro

...

I was once a cheerful child, carefree and content. I wanted to be a dancer. All the time I would pass by the open-front studio near to my house with my mother, and we would watch the ballerinas all lined in a row. I was a dreamer, a wanderer, and utterly naiive.

There were two images on the page. One of a young little girl holding her mother's hand and pointing to a large window full of dancing ballerinas. The other was a close up of her hopeful, happy face.

It wasn't long until someone violated my trust, someone I had to forget. This dis-remembrance came at a price, one that I paid for years later. The pain is a lingering one, though, every time I do remember now and then. The memories play back just like a movie. Its genre? Horror.

There was a dark, starry background, and the girl on the page was looking upwards to the sky with tears in her eyes. In the bottom right corner, she was there again, scrunched into a corner, surrounded by blood.

This was before the terrible thing that happened, however. This was another incident.

How can I explain it to you in terms that you can understand?

Let me ask you this: Do you know what betrayal tastes like? It tastes just like the ground. Do you know what it sounds like? It sounds like raspy, ragged breathing. Do you know what it feels like? It's like someone is roasting your insides and mashing your entire being flat. You can't call for help because it's already too late, and besides that you were threatened to be killed if you told. And this was from someone you trusted like a father. In the end, your screams of pain were your only outlet of frustration and anger.

There was a washed out collage of childhood toys, spanning two pages. They sat in a background of sand, and among them were translucent pools of water, most likely indicating that they were left on the shore of a beach.

But my life wasn't always so tragic. Yes it's hard to believe, sometimes.

My father was an inventor. He made such amazing computers—ones that walked and talked. I was always captivated by them, and would try to help him with his designs. There was a special project that he had been working on. Actually, there were a few of them he had.

There is a picture of rows and rows of doll-like Persocoms, in frilly dresses and bows.

The first of his projects finished with no problem, years before I was even born; that is how I came to have my sister.

She was a very kind and bold figure. You could go so far as to call her "cool and spicy" if you were so inclined. She always was there for me, no matter what, and the best thing was, she never had to sleep, or get tired or hungry. Always and always, she would be there, and she would never die.

The drawing of a girl with long pink hair was on the page, holding the hand of the small dark girl from the beginning.

Unlike mother.

My mother was a wonderful woman who just happened to be a witch. However to marry father, she had to give up most of her ways. The only bits of magic she could do were simple things, itty bity conveniences like healing scrapes and bruises or stirring pots without her hands.

A montage of little snippets of instances where a young, raven-haired woman was using magic for mundane uses, took up the space of three pages.

But one day she just faded away, and father, sister and I were alone.

One page, showing three simple silhouettes holding hands, came after the montage. Below them was the drawing of the woman from before, her eyes closed in sleep, hands folded in prayer.

I was an angry little girl then.

I would vent my ire into such dangerous things like teaching myself how to throw knives. Sometimes I would sneak around in the garden at night, on full moon, hoping to catch a glance of mother's spirit riding on the wind.

A somber sketch of the first girl's silhouette against the moon surrounded by a shadowy garden took up two pages.

Instead, I would wait in the dark, clutching a knife so hard in anticipation that my fingers would bleed. Mother never came to visit me in any form. The next morning, my sister would bandage up my fingers and tell me it was going to be alright. I never believed her until father made his announcement the next day.

The girl is crying on the next page, holding the knife in one clenched fist, and looking downwards. The page after shows her sister bandaging her wounds and hugging her.

"You girls need to have more fun," he had said. He apologized for not being with us so much, and promised that we would spend more time with each other once he wasn't so busy. Next week we were to going to enroll in lessons, but for what, that we had to decide on.

My sister chose Voice Training and similar things, which was unsurprising.

But I for one took readily to martial arts. It was there I met my friend. We started out as rivals, he and I, but as the years passed, we became inseparable, the best of friends, and then I realized the awful truth: that I was in love with him.

The next three pages show the girls and their father, the older girl with a microphone and instruments, and then the younger sister in a white gi, practicing what she's been learning in class. The pages after show how the girl and her friend met in class, progressing until she has a look of realization on her face, along with a deep blush.

Yet tine and time again, there was always one factor that no one could ever predict what would happen. That's where fate comes into the picture. Not too long ago, something terrible happened.

There was an accident that left us hurt very badly. I and my friend were riding in the car to school, just like every other day. But then someone hit us. The world spun around, threw us, and shattered our bones like toothpicks. Everyone was injured severely, but it was my friend who sustained the most damage trying to save me. Unfortunately he didn't look like he was going to survive. I nearly lost one of my best friends in this world. My father and his team tried to save him, and that was when a miracle happened. An amazing miracle that just happened to save his life.

The next pages show the details of the car crash, from time the truck hit it, to the car rolling, to an image of her friend protecting her from the incoming impact with his own body. After, there is the faint outline of him sleeping in a cryogenic chamber.

You may not believe me, but I am sure that he is still alive. He is not like "them" he is still human to me, and even if he wasn't, I would still love him. Even if he wasn't "himself" anymore.

But what of me? How did I fare from the accident? Unfortunately the damage to my legs was too great, and they had to be removed. Replaced, actually. Only one of the many accomplishments my father had created that helped me to walk again, and even later on, fly. They were heavy and hard to move at first, but after a while I became used to them. They were lithe and agile, like one of those dancing marionettes you would see at the puppet show. I was like one of those toys. I was a little dancing doll. I had been broken, and now I was fixed. Now I am whole.

There is a progression from shock and sadness, to a more confident picture of her attempting to dance.

At least on the outside, I am. There are times where it is hard to tell if I myself am real or not, but it doesn't matter as long as my friend is by my side.

There is a tearful yet happy picture of her holding her friend's hand as they sit on a park bench.

Yet even as I'm gliding through the air, I realize from the rattling in my chest that there's still a piece of me that is broken. Long ago, it was shattered, and I'm afraid it cannot be fixed.

The last picture shows the girl floating on the wind, clutching her heart, with two gossamer butterfly wings extending from her back. Her face is melancholy yet peaceful.

To be continued…

…

As Amber lay in bed with the comforter tucked in to her chin, she dreamt. It was strange how clairvoyance would suddenly bestow itself upon her in moments of extreme exhaustion. She was floating in the darkness, waiting for something, but she couldn't know for sure what it was.

It turned out to actually be a who. Well, it was two people.

One was a tall, pale woman. Her hair was inky dark, and stretched down the length of her formal kimono. The front was embroidered with several delicate lacy designs, in multiple shades of red gold and black.

The other person was a young man with glasses. He was also dressed in a kimono, but it was more casual, and came in earthy tones.

Amber had an inkling of who these people were, but as she stood in the darkness, she could only speculate.

"You're here," said the woman, curving her red lips into a smile.

"Who is she?" asked the boy bitterly. "Besides, Yuuko, I thought you were dead."

"I am. I mean, in my time frame I suppose I will be. I assume you've taken over my shop, haven't you?"

He eyed her for a suspicious moment. "Yes, yes I have."

"And so we meet, for the first time. I'll be sure to lure you in someday, won't I?"

"Hmph," was all the boy said, crossing his arms. Evidently he was upset with her for something, but he wasn't about to say what it was about any time soon.

After a moment, the woman seemed to notice Amber again. "Oh, we're being rude, I nearly forgot. As for you…" she walked over to put her hands on the girl's shoulders and look into her eyes. "You are my successor, I believe."

"Successor?" said the boy. "I thought I inherited the shop from you." His tone betrayed jealousy of some sort, but his eyes were curious all the same. One was brown and the other blue, noted Amber.

"Oh that? That was merely one aspect of myself." Her arms rose upwards, as if reaching for something. "Here. You remember my symbol? My title?" There was a slight fluttering motion above them, and without thinking, the boy and the girl looked up to see a swarm of insects.

"The Black Butterfly," said Amber, staring at the woman and her familiars. "Kurocho. The one to supersede her title shall be crowned royally, and her heart will become the key to Elysium."

"Elysi—," began the boy.

"Where all souls go," said Yuuko. "The ones not corrupted by evil, that is. It is a haven." She sounded carefree yet remorseful at the same time. "However, those who cannot wait for death may enter by winning a contest."

"But why even do that in the first place?" said the boy.

"Everyone needs a chance," said the woman.

"Yuuko, you said that the dead don't come back! How are you here? Why did you send me that message?"

"Because you all are in my dream," she responded somberly. Her head was now hanging limply about her shoulders as if she had no energy left to speak.

"What does she have to do with you?" said the boy, pointing to Amber.

"She is me."

"She…what?" His confusion made Yuuko snicker and her smile returned once again.

Amber stepped forward. Her voice was shaky but she had to know something before the dream had to finish.

"Why did you send the black Mokona to seal my powers?"

"You what?" said the boy, shocked that Yuuko would do such a thing to someone, let alone herself as she claimed the girl to be.

Yuuko shook her head disapprovingly, probably chiding the girl's impatience. "Don't worry. It won't last for long."

"But—," said Amber and the boy.

Her hands went up and silenced their lips by placing a finger on each of theirs. "Hush, children. There is no more time. I must go soon." She turned her back on them and started to walk away. "One more thing, though." She made sure they could see the side of her face as she retreated. "You need to forget me; ask the stone faced boy for your present."

The boy flinched at the mention of a 'present' but said nothing to counter her order.

"Embrace the new me instead."

He looked to Amber and scoffed, folding his arms.

"And you, my dear future me, I only hope that you realize that there's only one way to end this Game. That boy over there is an alternate version of the one you hold dear, so tell him how you feel."

And then she disappeared.

Amber and the boy stared at each other in silence. The more they stared, the more awkward it became. He was about to ask her why Yuuko said all that she had, when Amber did something she never had the courage to do in real life. It was a dream, so she merely took a chance and decided to listen for once to that odd woman who claimed to be her.

"I love you, Garrett!" breathed her lips, right before they pressed against his.

'Watanuki dasuki,' whispered her heart.

…

Kokubunji and Yuzuki stood in the middle of a circle. Yuzuki stood on one end, where the drawing of a sun was. Minoru stood on the other, where the outline of the moon was. In the middle were two five-pointed stars overlapping one another, and below them bother were three squares over lapping one another, and the signs of the zodiac were written around the circle in the empty paces the squares divided the circle into.

If this didn't work, then Minoru's fears would be confirmed, and all that he believed in up to this point would have been false.

"For the sake of the Art, I shall pass on my knowledge. For the sake of the Art, I will practice it freely. For the sake of the Art, I shall enter the contest. For the sake of the Art, I will finish all in my way." Minoru held out his hands for Yuzuki to hold, and as he spoke, he and the Presocom held each other's forearms. There was conviction in his tone as he continued. "I, Minoru Kokubunji, so do swear." His voice never betrayed any uncertainty or hesitation as he spoke the words. They seemed to radiate power, and the circle began to glow brighter with each word.

"In the name of my Contractor, I shall bind myself to his service. In all that he asks, I will follow through. For the hope of his safety, I will give up my soul. May my dedication guide me on the path we shall stride. I, Yuzuki, bind myself to you." She spoke the words with ease, in a flowing, somewhat cheerful manner. Nothing could convince her otherwise that this was the right thing to do.

The next statement, to bind them to their duty, was spoken at the same time.

"For the sake of our friends, to protect them during The Game, may we be bound by our promise."

And then Yuzuki finished it off with her pledge:

"By the commitment of our pact, may my Master's plans follow through."

As the light grew even brighter, to nearly blinding levels, Minoru was silently hoping it would work. After it suddenly dies down, the worry on his face melted away instantly when he saw their cards. One with him on it, and the other, a picture of Yuzuki with a pair of machine guns.

Well, that was interesting.

But mostly he was relieved. What he had read in the book had been bothering him before they started their pact:

"You cannot make a pact with the Soulless."

So Persocoms had souls after all, did they?

Minoru looked to Yuzuki as she examined the proof of their pact. It was just as he suspected. Magic had just confirmed it.

Why is it that a rose

By any other name

Would smell as sweet as you?

Would a butterfly

By any other name

Steal my heart just like you?