Requiems for a Soul

Summary: Mangaverse. Three ways Ciel could pay off his debt.

I.

"Will it hurt?"

The childish question slips from his lips before he can stop it, and he would berate himself for sounding weak, but in seconds it will not matter anyway.

"It doesn't have to," Sebastian replies, with less amusement then Ciel would have expected.

"If it's all the same to you," he intones, pointedly looking everywhere but at the demon, "I'd rather it didn't."

"As you wish," the reply betrays faint amusement, but whether it is fond or mocking, Ciel cannot determine. He supposes it doesn't matter.

The gathering dusk outfits the dusty wreckage around them with a strange hue. Ciel's fingers reach back, fumbling at the strings of the eyepatch. He will see, completely, in his last moments.

He turns around, moves towards Sebastian, but stumbles in exhaustion. The demon, with lightning-reflexes, catches him by the elbow and steadies him.

They stare at each other, embarrassed. The awkward moment passes quickly, and Sebastian lifts the child into his arms to look him in the face.

"We complete the contract," Sebastian's eyes seem more red than usual.

"Of course." He sniffs, arrogant to the last. Of course he will keep his word. The bodies of those who hurt him and his family crumbled and burned around him. Revenge at last.

His gaze lingers on the bodies of his tormentors, crumpled like all other bodies he has seen in death. The particles from the ash and crumbling wood have yet to settle, and the evening light makes them look gold. When they do drift down to earth, they are brittle and white, the lazy descent reminding Ciel of falling snow.

"Thank you," he says, suddenly, and Sebastian looks startled. "You served me admirably."

"Well," he smirks faintly at the boy in his arms, tilting his hand forward to press against Ciel's eye, the two symbols neatly aligned, "I was a hell of a butler."

Sebastian thinks Ciel's mouth curls up in a faint, genuine smile before his eyes close.

II.

"Hurry up and do it, then," he demands. He is a sorry sight, stained with blood, both his enemies' and his own. Scratches and bruises mark his arms, and a red burn stands out on his cheek. The last few days have not been kind to either of them.

Even so, as he tilts his face towards the rapidly purpling sky, there is a quiet sort of majesty about him. An exhausted rider who has reached the end of his journey, a prisoner who feels the wind on their face and the sun on their skin before they hang, but mostly a would-be king who has fought long and hard for his throne and takes it proudly in the midst of the tragedy of his wars, even knowing he will be dead by morning.

Several years have gone by, and Ciel is taller than he once was. One eye still gleams blue, the other tucked beneath the patch, skin pale under the soot. Sharp cheekbones and long eyelashes ensure that he would be considered beautiful, if not handsome.

"So eager to die?" Sebastian questions. The fire that drove Ciel has diminished, but his eyes glow faintly like the last embers in the wake of the collapsing flame.

"I have completed my purpose," Ciel answers tersely. "My soul is forfeit, so why wait?" He turns and faces the demon, the setting sun casting shadows that conceal his expression.

"Why, indeed?" Sebastian walks closer, slow enough to irk Ciel but quick enough that it doesn't hide his eagerness. For in moments Sebastian will be fed and free.

But still, he hesitates, watching the boy as he shifts his feet. Of course it will not be so difficult to transition; how many times has he devoured the soul of one master and moved on to another?

"Hurry up," he snaps. Sebastian stops short and considers him, only a few feet away now.

"If you tell me why you wish to die, young master."

"Because revenge is who I am," Ciel tells him, flatly. "Without it, I am nothing. I have my revenge now." He doesn't say, revenge is what kept me alive. He doesn't say that it was the only reason he could keep going. But both of them know it. "Now you may have my soul."

He doesn't say, kill me while I still have a purpose. He doesn't say, kill me before I turn into an empty shell, like the broken children at the circus.

Sebastian takes his soul quickly anyway.

III.

He seems smaller, curled in on himself and soaked in blood. Numbly, Sebastian reaches out to brush at his hair. He has no doubt Ciel would have turned away under normal circumstances, but he has no strength even to shy away from contact.

"Young master," Sebastian begins, but Ciel shakes his head. He takes a shuddering breath, trying to form words.

"Take...it..." he articulates, and starts coughing. Sebastian pulls him into a sitting position. He cries out, but the coughing subsides. "My soul, take it," he instructs.

Sebastian wonders how far gone Ciel is; every breath pains the boy, blood congealing in the folds of his clothing. His eyes are dull with pain, but he pursues his point with single-minded determination. "I will be dead...soon...you might as well...put me out of my misery." He punctuates this with another coughing fit.

"The contract is not fulfilled," Sebastian reminds him. Revenge still eludes them, and Ciel ought to know as well as Sebastian that he goes to the grave with his plans incomplete. "I have failed you."

"Then...don't..." Ciel grasps at Sebastian's sleeve, small fingers slick with blood. "Take my soul...and find them. Make them pay." The small speech saps the last of his strength, and he slumps against the demon, struggling for air.

"You would not die with your soul intact?" Sebastian wants to know. The turn of events has blindsided him.

"I am...damned regardless," Ciel tells him candidly. "I would...have my revenge."

Sebastian still hesitates, and Ciel seems to sense that time is running out. He presses his fingers towards the wound, and pull them away, stained red.

"Please," he adds, and Sebastian leans forward, pulling off the eyepatch. Ciel's eyes flutter as he struggles with consciousness, and Ciel smiles faintly as his eye fades to blue.

"Thank you," he breathes, and Sebastian waits to devour the soul he has claimed, opting to cradle its former owner as the light vanishes from the child's eyes.

He settles the limp body in the grass, stepping back and staring at him, contemplating the soul that is his to feast upon.

Instead, Sebastian turns and walks away, leaving the corpse on the grass. There is nothing left of the boy, save for his dying wish.

The demon can eat on the way; there's work to be done.