Hello, and welcome to my first story! I do hope you'll enjoy this fan-fiction. After reading manga 'Kuroshitsuji', an idea just popped in my head, hence how this is created. Now, I don't know if there will be a pairing, but I was thinking there may be pairing of Sebastian and my original character... But ah, I'm still working on few ideas. Please do inform me if there are grammar errors or so, I'll fix it. I did write this beginning pretty late at night.
The characters of Kuroshitsuji are rightfully owned by the creator.
The original characters do belong to me.
A tiny sunshine shone through the attic window, showing the view of many boxes left in the dust, indicting that the room haven't been touched for a while. The door to the attic was pushed forward, prompting the loud creaking sound, and a young woman peeked through the door to scan around the room. The young woman with her trademark brown hair in slightly thick ponytail, widened her eyes at the large room. She let out a long whistle, exclaiming, "Woooow, look at all dust! We stumbled in the forgotten room!"
Jeanette pulled herself from the ground trapdoor, taking in more view of her grandparents' attic room, and whimsically mused that she haven't been here ever since she was in high school. After she graduated from her community college, her grandmother have passed on from a heart attack about few weeks ago, hence why Jeanette and her family are here at her grandfather's house. Jeanette offered her grandfather to clean up the attic room while looking for the pictures of her late grandmother for the funeral service. Frowning with the can of pledge in her hand and a rag in other hand, Jeanette wrinkled her nose at thin layer of dust on one of boxes, and smacked the box with a rag. However, with the dust spreading in the air, it only caught her off the guard before she let out a haughty sneeze.
"Hey, Sammy boy..." Jeanette conversed to her brother, wiping her nose with her hand, as she stared at the door. "Come up already, Sam. Didn't you and dad make a deal that you'd help me? After all...it'd be a shame to waste the tickets you wanted-"
"I get it, I get it," As Sam, thirteen years old boy with messy dark blonde hair in dark clothes, interrupted Jeanette with his grumbling, and propped himself into the room off the ladder leading to door. "I'm here now..."
She grinned, pointing toward the numerous thick books resting on the shelf, and clucked her tongue as she moved the box around, "You can start with dusting those books, but be careful with them; they look old- Whoa!"
Jeanette quickly drew back with her hands in the air, her eyes widen to see a small black blurred motion darting away from the box to hid behind another box, and she hollered, "Shoot! We got a mouse here, Sammy boy!"
Sam pulled a book as he wasn't listening, muttering a 'What?' before the books slide down in response to a missing slot, cue to one at the end to fall down to the ground before the papers and pictures fly out.
"Sam! I told you!"
"It's an accident, sheesh!" Sam fired back, putting up a defensive stance in response of Jeanette's angry glare.
Jeanette gestured at the door as she said, walking over to the pile of papers and pictures, "Just go get dad! I saw a mouse, and god know they're fastest and dirtiest baby-makers!"
She set the pledge and rag down aside to couch down, gathering the fallen photographs off the ground. Jeanette heard parting footsteps of Sam, though she noted a sudden scuffed halting, and a chuckle from Sam grabbed her attention as he said with a surprised tone, "Whoa, oh-ho! Hey, Jeans, you gotta see this! I found something neat!"
Blowing out an impatient huff, Jeanette put the pictures and papers in a neat stack, and she glanced to Sam making his way back with a photograph in his hand, dryly questioned, "If it's a picture of some creepy stuff you're into... Not really interested."
"No! Look!" Sam yelled, nearly shoving picture to Jeanette's face. "Some chick looks like you! Or looked... She must be dead at this time."
"What? Let me see..." Jeanette took the picture with her eyes squinting, and stared at the picture to see there was strange about this picture. The black and white photograph found by Sam showed to be the family picture, and their clothing looked like they could be dated back to the Victorian era. Jeanette's eyes traveled from person's to another person's face, and so on: A older woman with her gray hair held up in firm bun, possibly holding the role of a dutiful mother and wife and stared directly into the camera, her face held a gentle expression and very stern eyes; Father and husband, despise of his hair already faded into the color of gray and wrinkles appearing on his forehead, was still the figure of authority in the picture by looking at his upright and strong posture; The oldest of three children, a young dark-haired woman with such a lush confidence flashing in her sharp eyes, and a smile tugged at her corners of her slender lips, giving her the expression that tell she was no fool; Perched on his mother's laps, was a youngest of the children, a boy, perhaps less than five years old, smiled toward the camera that shone with an aura of a pure innocence with his curled locks of hair to his shoulders; And lastly, a young woman, perhaps in her 20ish years, was only one who isn't looking at the camera since she had her eyes glanced away to look far away. She had a forced smile plastered on her face, her hair tied in a braided bun. It was the image of middle childl that Sam and Jeanette's eyes firmly locked on, for the girl was a spitting image of Jeanette without a doubt.
"Holy freaking crap," Jeanette commented, and let out a weak chuckle when she somewhat felt uneasy in sharing with a same face, "Wow, I guess this is our...great-great-great grandma, or something?"
Sam grabbed the picture back, waving it to her face as he replied sarcastically, "No shit, Sherlock."
Snatching the photograph back, Jeanette scolded, "Don't make me drag you down, and stick the bar of soap in your mouth, Sam. I'm not kidding, the soap is very filthy, you know, with all those nasty germs. And I told you to go get dad; We have a damned mouse loose in this room!"
"Right," Sam just stared at Jeanette after scoffing at her, now losing an interest in the photograph, and repeated down the ladder through the door, leaving Jeanette all alone in the attic.
"What's your story, I wonder, twinsie... For you to make that face." Jeanette chuckled, smiling at the photograph, and she put the photograph on top of organized stack of other photographs. She grabbed a next photograph, and it then shocked her when she saw the content in the photograph.
It was a photograph of the same girl again, only she was just accompanied by the tall gentleman in a formal black tuxedo as he had the girl's hand on his arm. It looked like the girl and man were close, judging by their poses, perhaps very close. What shocked Jeanette though, was the man's face being scribbled heavily by the black ink as if someone had a very negative response to him enough to censor his face. "Did my twinsie do this?" Jeanette asked to the photograph, tilting head, then she shrugged it off, commenting as she dropped a photograph to a same stack, "Must be a cheating louse or something!"
Jeanette got up to make her way to the door, grabbing on the doorknob, but then she made a glimpse back to the stack of the photograph as Jeanette felt she must satisfy her undeniable curiosity about that family. Before she closed the door, she whispered, "What is really your story?"
