Keeper of the Books

Summary: "That is the wrong question! You need to ask the right one. But even if you have the right question, or even the left question, you may attain the answer you desire, but not the correct answer. You must ask the correct question if you want the truth." The Keeper of the Books knows all. But perhaps she knows nothing in return. A conundrum. A enigma. A query. What a strange team they would make.

Since I can't work on updating a few of my stories until they are edited according the the no second-person story rules, I'm going to put up a couple of others since the ideas have been buzzing around for a while. This way you guys will have something else to read while you wait.

Thanks everyone and I hope you enjoy.

To know that we know what we know, and to know that we do not know what we do not know, that is true knowledge.

Nicolaus Copernicus

A dark man in a dark suit. His intentions? How curious, for through the halls he creeps is the hall of truths, attainment, and the whole of everything.

The man frowns as he looks about, looking for the keeper of the books. Never had he seen a library so vast and so unusual. "What is this?"

"Wrong question!" A voice chimes out, though their location is still a mystery.

Again he frowns, but this time with more caution made more apparent with the soft click of his gun. "Who are you? What is this place exactly?"

"No, no, no! If you come for answers, then you must have the right question!" The voice scolds. "But even if you have the right question, or even the left question, you may attain the answer you desire, but not the correct answer. You must ask the correct question if you want the truth."

The man frowns even more. This person spoke in riddles and he didn't like it. Still, the rumors of the infinite knowledge kept him in place. He needed the information and this was the only place he could get it.

Despite not knowing where to start looking, curiosity drives the man to pull a random book from a random shelf and open it somewhere in the middle. But low and behold, the book was blank! Absolutely nothing inside.

Anger and frustration takes the man, as he is not one for games of wasting time, and he is severely tempted to shoot the book for some odd reason, as if it had wronged him some way.

"Eeeek! What are you doing?" The voice shouts. Suddenly a shadow comes barreling out of nowhere- wait, not nowhere, from above on a ladder- and somehow snatches the book from the man, a feat to be proud of considering his abilities and stature. "The book about shyness doesn't liked to be touched so freely. Now look what you've done! The poor thing is scared out of its wits. You need to handle these books more carefully!"

The man barely listens, though not entirely his fault. He is shocked like any other to see that the keeper of the books is but a young girl, looking not even over 12 years of age. "You're the keeper of the books?"

"Wrong question," the girl chastises and places the book back into its snug setting between comfort and care.

She picks up another book and climbs her ladder to the top of a seemingly unorganized pile of books and places it near the top. She then takes another two books and hops on top of them, riding them down the slope of literature.

The man hides his shock well as he merely raises an eyebrow in question. "Didn't you just tell me to be more careful with the books? So why are you using them as a pair of skis?"

The girl blinks as she picks up the two books and holds them up for the man to see. "These two books are about surfing and they gain knowledge by experience. I have to make sure all the books get the experience that they need so that they can be properly informed before cataloguing them. That's why I surfed down the books about the ocean and landed on the books about sand."

The man blinks and then takes a closer look at what he first thought to just be a pile of books. Now that he looked again, he realized that the pile looked like a giant ocean wave forever frozen in the moment.

But even more confusing was the girl's statement. "Aren't books written from the experience of another? How on earth are they supposed to gather information without someone printing the text themselves?"

The girl stares in confusion. "What an odd thing to say in the hall of knowledge. Books here are perfectly capable of recording whatever they want. That's why the keeper of the books must make sure that they are gaining the correct experience. Practice makes permanent after all. Isn't that how all books are recorded?"

The man shook his head slowly. What a strange girl. "Not where I come from."

"How odd," the girl mumbles, tapping her chin and tossing her used books behind her.

The man is once again stunned as he watches the books fly precisely into the empty slots in a shelf several yards away from them. But his train of thoughts take a stumble when the girl speaks once again.

"So have you figured out your question yet? I don't have much time to dilly dally. There is always so much to do. And would you like some tea? I know a few good books and the taste is absolutely divine." The girl takes the man's arm and drags him away without waiting for his answer.

The man stifles his habitual urge to incapacitate anyone who touches him without permission in favor of studying his surroundings. One never knew when they should be too careful or not. Suddenly his instincts ring out and he moves himself and the girl aside just in time to avoid a bullet. He is about to return fire when the girl jumps up and stomps over to a shelf, scolding all the way.

"No, no, no! What did I tell you about practicing on guests!" The girl reaches up and grabs something, tugging with all her might when it resists. Finally a black and red book falls from the shelves and into the girl's hands. "I've given you plenty of books about victims and death for you to practice your skills. If you continue to be a troublemaker, I'll have to stick you with the books about murderers. Is that what you want?"

The book, although as straight and normal looking as any other book the man had seen, somehow appeared to be ashamed and sulking. The girl nodded and sent to book off on its way.

The man ducked once more as his senses warned him of an incoming attack, and he watched as a book flew over his head and toward the girl.

"Jealousy, no! Bad!" The girl reprimanded, grabbing the book from the air. "And Envy, no trying to drop the book of weights on our guest! You two behave! I will play with you later. Go find Love and Happiness."

This time the man raises his eyebrow with slight amusement. This seemingly young girl before him was scolding books like they were children. "I suppose there is a book about everything here?"

"Yes, that's right. They can be such a troublesome lot, but it's in their nature to do the things they do. Again, how else would they gain that experience." The girl began dragging the man once more, leaving him by a sofa as she pulled out cups and other materials. "If I remember, your character book says you enjoy a particular type of brew of espresso. So here you are."

The man took the cup hesitantly. "What do you mean by 'my character book'?"

"Everyone has a book about themselves. Your story is written already, but your history is recorded as you go. Even I have one, but its location is a secret. Can't have someone attempting to rewrite the book keeper's life story." The girl took a sip from her cup with her eyes closed, completely relaxed and uncaring of the fact that there was a hitman in front of her. "Your book said you would eventually seek the hall of knowledge, so I've been expecting you for a long time."

"You knew I was coming today?" the man asks suspiciously.

The girl shook her head. "Your story said you would come. Stories are hardly ever specific about the times and dates of events. That is for the history portion to record. But we digress. Do you have your questions, Mister Hitman?"

"What is your name, or must I continue to refer to you as keeper?"

"My name?" The girl blinks. "Like you, I have many. Is there a particular one you desire?"

"Anything that I and perhaps other can refer to you by for this day and age."

"What a curious thing to request. Hmmm. Well I was once called Artemis, but that seems a bit old fashioned. And Hope seems to cliché…How about Avery. I like that one right now."

"…Avery then."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"A name. I can list quite a few, but I doubt you'd like me to. Then again, I can call you Mister Suspicious Hitman, but that seems a little long."

The man didn't answer right away, studying the girl in front of him.

"You've chosen a new name recently due to the development of your group and the curse of the Arcobaleno taking hold. Why don't I use that one?"

"If you already know it, then why as?"

"Because it's polite and it's the rule of the keeper to hear the desired name from the person or book. I cannot name them myself, nor can I jump to conclusions as the future isn't set in stone. Stories can always be rewritten."

The man stayed silent a bit more before sighing a little. "Reborn."

The girl smiled. "Reborn it is. So what would you truly like to ask Mister Reborn?"

"How do I lift the curse?"

The girl shook her head. "The books about the Arcobaleno Curse and Pacifiers has been unavailable for many centuries now. They were only brought back for the keepers to read through before they were taken again."

"That does not answer my question. You have read the book, so you should know how."

"I have read the book, but I cannot tell. Your character book says that you will find someone who will lead you to the solution, so I must leave it as it is. The keepers are never allowed to rewrite another's book, or any book at all actually. We are the keepers, not the records."

"Then will you come with me."

This time the girl is taken by surprise and her expression clearly shows it. "I beg your pardon."

"Will you leave theses halls and come with me to see this event through?"

"But why? What use would I be outside my books?"

"Wouldn't you like to see history take place and not just read about it? To see beyond the walls of your ever growing library?"

"But who would take care of your books?"

"Is there not books about the keepers as well as several books about taking care and managing others?"

"Yes but-"

"There is also the case that I need someone with information nearby and it would be a pain to have to make continual trips all the way over here."

"But that's not-"

"Don't you want to try living for at least a short while?"

The girl stared at the man. These were questions she was not prepared for. She knew the answer to just about everything. Everything, but herself. Her character book only records history now and gives nothing about her life story. But this is how it had been for all the other keepers before her. Once the keeper is established, their story fades away.

Did she desire the experience of the outside world?

Did she really want to know- no, remember- what was outside those doors?

Well the best was to learn was through experience!

She smiled. "My books shall become very knowledgeable after I share my experiences with them!"

The man smirked. "Then let us go and see who the next Vongola Decimo will be."

What a very strange duo indeed.

Not sure if I'm just going to leave it there or not. This idea came to me when I was sleep drunk, so it's a little odd.

Reviews are lovely~! The longer the better. You never know, your rambles may inspire something!