Major spoilers for both Tsubasa and xxxHOLiC in this little piece. Read at your own risk. I do not own the characters involved, CLAMP does; I just get ideas and write them.

Silence reigned heavily between the two of them as the spring morning's light filtered in through the large windows in Clow's manor. A private moment- though the distant echoes of Cerberus and Yue's voices still managed to faintly reach him, along with their anxiety and concern- between himself and the one who had inspired this decision after five hundred very long years.

She was as beautiful as the day her time had stopped, the pale skin contrasted sharply with her jet colored hair and the solemn expression in her scarlet eyes. The white kimono, the red nagajuban and the elaborately designed gold and black butterfly obi gave her a frail look that made him want to hold her close, to protect her from the world. For all the good my intentions had been... He thought and opened his eyes, a gentle, false smile on his face as he continued to wear the pleasant mask to put her off.

"...are you leaving?" Her voice was nearly impossible to interpret, her tone betraying little as she stood before him, hands folded formally in front of her, resting against her kimono as she watched him. She didn't return his smile in the slightest, and the expression on her face was guarded, serious and far too complicated for the most powerful magician in the world to bear.

His smile faltered, slipping to a tired, wry curve of his lips as he let a sigh escape. As always, her perception of matters were spot on, something that had proved to be more than a little obnoxious on several different occasions; especially when it came to his attempts at reversing what he had done. "Yes." Clow answered quietly, brow furrowing in a complicated combination of frustration and weariness.

He raised his head, steepling his fingers as he watched her remain motionless, his admission gaining no visible response as he spoke again. "I can no longer continue on like this," Such a strange confession, a weakness he had never felt himself capable of vocalizing. All of his mistakes had piled up on him over the last several months, leaving him beyond frustrated and at a loss for how to correct what could not be corrected. "You... understand, do you not?"

She studied him for a long, long time- and not for the first time, did Clow feel he was being examined in an entirely different way as well- before finally speaking again, her cool voice making the hair on the back of his neck rise. "I understand." Something about the way she said it hurt more than if she had said nothing at all and his gut twisted as a result.

It was cruel of him to continue with this plan, to ask more of her than he'd already had the right to when he was the reason she could not rest. She could be injured, she could be practically killed from exhaustion or any number of things- but she would not die. All because of his selfish desire, of a wish he had made without understanding the consequences.

He never longed to be a normal man more after the realization of what he'd done had hit him.

Five hundred years of attempting to reverse the process, of trying to undo what he had done to her and beg her forgiveness in his own way. The universe no longer recognized her existence, leaving her untouched by time and space alike.

And had left Clow Reed with his first bitter taste of true failure.

He started to say her name, her true name that she had relented and given him through his persistence and trickery, and stopped. No longer did he have the right to call her that, not after what he had done and not after what he was going to do. Clow took another moment to return to the other plane of consciousness he had been in, slipping easily back to that world as if dimensional travel were nothing more than a mere footstep for him and bid his good-byes to the loyal companions over the years, sealing them for the cute little descendant of his who would be a much better master than he had been.

When he returned, she had moved to stand directly in front of him, a tempting distance away and so close he could reach out and feel her if he so dared. His fingers twitched slightly, as if giving away the desire to at least caress her face one more time.

He could not touch her any longer; that was no longer his right or place.

"If the dream does not end..." Clow began, his voice trailing off as blue eyes searched her face for any kind of hint, of understanding that might dawn in her eyes. Of a forgiveness that he could never ask of her, even if he most dearly desired it. He stopped, noticing the very faint ghost of a smile, so light and barely there that he might have thought it an illusion, a trick of his mind, had he not known her as he did.

Of course she would give him that smile; how could he have expected anything less?

Lethargy stole into his limbs as he eased back into the chair he had settled into. He was weary, in more ways than one, and he knew that it would not be long before that moment would come. Her hand, soft and cool rested atop of his own for a moment, a silent indicator of her feelings that she was too stubborn to vocalize or admit to. "If the dream does not end?" She pressed, voice soft and gentle, the same as she spoke to children with.

Blue and scarlet met, held and lingered for one last time as his eyes slowly closed, the sense of "self", of identity that he had spent so many centuries building up, began to slip away from him and into the plan he had made for the future. "If the dream... does not end." He murmured again, part of him fighting the inevitability laying out before him to try and convey his meaning to her one last time.

I'm sorry. Clow finished silently and was no more.

The woman stared at death's face impassively, the ease of the furrow between the man in front of her's brow a slow process as his life became no more and he went beyond her reach. She could hear shouts, of mourning from the place he had left his actual body behind and watched the form in front of her slowly disintegrate and turn into light that rose up and faded into oblivion.

"If the dream does not end." She repeated quietly and straightened her back, reaching into the sleeve of her furisode and removed a small, black and crimson pin he'd made for her once. Held in the palm of her hand, the scarlet eyes traced the intricate pattern of the tiny accessory before the lines began to blur.

She appeared before Fei Wong Reed, watching the shock and grief pass over his expression as she stood before the body of his great something or other grandfather. He would mourn and then there would be trouble, the woman thought to herself as she looked upon the peaceful form of the man she had once loved.

She placed the token within his hand, curling still warm fingers over the metal and enamel butterfly to keep with him, and to remind him that she understood, in some way, what he had been trying to say. Distantly, she could hear Fei's voice calling her, pleading with her to return and help him make the arrangements as she strode out his door and into the sunlight. Blinking, the young kimono clad woman told herself that it was the harsh light of the sun that caused her eyes to water and continued her purposeful stride away from the house of Clow, to return to her little home away from home and await the day things would come full circle.

And the day the butterfly's dream would end.