Kuroshitsuji © Yana Toboso
OCs © reaper-of-lost-souls
A/N: This is a little story I decided to start out of the blue. I wanted to write an UndertakerXGrell story, but yet I also wanted to write a story with Grell as a child. I know it's illogical considering the shinigamis in Kuroshitsuji were probably humans and died before they became shinigamis, but I don't care! It's my story and I wanted to write a chibi-Grell =3 Plus I like Undertaker too so he's going to be main character two. You'll just see why later ^^ ENJOY!
!#$%^&*()
"HEY YOU GIVE IT BACK!" A group of young boys with bright green double-iris eyes pointed and laughed at the boy on the ground, waving a doll high up in the air out of the other boy's reach. "Give it, it's mine! I made it!"
The boys only laughed, tossing the doll between themselves as the shorter, younger boy ran back and forth in the circle they had created as he desperately tried to grab his handmade tan, sewn voodoo doll back in his arms once again. "Hah! Of course a stupid pest like you would make this!" a boy laughed, poking the doll in the cheek and throwing it away from him as if it was a hot potato.
"You're all jerks!" the boy quivered his bottom lip in an attempt to stop the tears, deeming his attempts unsuccessful as hot tears began to fall carelessly down his cheeks and his cheeks slowly turned as red as his hair with great fury.
The boy let out a cry as the older boys pinned him to the ground, one of them holding up a distasteful-looking pair of small safety black scissors in his hands. "This will shut this bug up!" he laughed, grabbing the boy's silky long red hair and beginning to snip the hair in large handfuls. "You weirdo!"
"Freak!"
"Disgusting piece of vermin!"
The rapt boy could only cry as his long red-headed hair fell in clumps around him, trying the best he could to reach for his doll that had been thrown to the side of the turmoil he ended up in. He clutched his fists as the boys cut his hair and continued to beat him up, his eyes going wide as his doll's head was hacked off before he lay unconscious on the ground in a pile of his own blood.
!#$%^&*()
)(*&^%$#!
"And this is our primary classes," a tall man pointed into the classrooms as he showed a quite older and taller man the facilities around the campus. "As you can see, we start the children with the basics: ABSs, 123s, and the basic rules every shinigami must abide by."
"Ah yes I see," the other man nodded, his black gloves intertwined behind his back as he walked gravely down the hallway.
"This is also a vital time in our curriculum," the man continued to explain, "because these young years can make or break a promising shinigami. We weed out the children we deem awful to be shinigamis and those we find whom will have promise, they go to secondary school."
"And what do you do with the children who are 'awful'," the other man asked, pausing as his inferior stopped and looked into a classroom with a chuckle escaping his throat.
"Those children?" he sighed, "Well… their lives are terminated I suppose. I'm not in charge of deciding. That's made by the head director."
The taller man nodded once again, staring into the classroom the other man was directing him towards as he watched the children napping inside. There was one minor that suddenly took his interest, a small eight-year-old looking boy with short red-headed hair and tiny sharp teeth sitting in the corner as he slowly sewed a small doll together. "Who is that lad?" the man pointed as the other looked in before nodding his head.
"Oh Sutcliff? He's one of our misfits," he explained.
"How?" the man asked again with sudden interest, keeping a cold eye on the boy as the other man gulped at his question.
"He… well he tends to get into trouble a lot," the other shrugged. "We always find him being picked on by other boys or trying to beat other children up. We are giving him one more year to prove himself before he moves on to secondary school."
"He's sixteen years old?" the man huffed, thinking to himself as he ripped his eyes away from the room. "Looks younger… perhaps fourteen," he thought to himself before turning to the other man and continuing his stroll down the hallway. "Scrawny little lad. Does he have any parents?"
"None sir," the other man explained, now noticing that the other man had continued down the hallway, and he ran after him. "He was given to us when he was a one-year-old babe and we don't know who his parents could have been. He has no siblings and lives in the orphanage, but we know by testing that he is indeed the child of shinigamis."
"I see…" the man continued to think only to himself, the other man letting out a huff once he caught up with the older man.
"Disregarding the boy," the other man said as he tried to change the subject, "will you be speaking to the children this afternoon?"
"I have time," the man explained, "but only for a few minutes. We have a suspicious group of demons tonight and the council wants me to be present."
"Understandable," the other man nodded, "I'll keep this is mind. It will only be for a few moments. Just explain the roles of a shinigami and etcetera. You must know, since you are legendary shinigami."
The man sighed, running a black glove through his long silver colored hair, his black rimmed glasses hiding the true color of his eyes. "You may think this, but you're wrong. I know as much as anyone else around here," he spoke, mostly for himself then for the man standing puzzled next to him. "Let's not doddle," he huffed, continuing to walk down the hallway with his hands behind his back. "I don't have time to waste here."
"Y-yes sir," the other man nodded, chasing after him as they disappeared down the white-covered walls.
)(*&^%$#!
!#$%^&*()
"That is stupid," a little boy scoffed as he rummaged through a box of discarded fabric with a tan lump of a doll clutched tightly in his little hand. "No man would want to come here, not even a legendary~. That's stupid to expect the man to like any of this. He's probably forced to come here."
"But I heard the legendary shinigami looked into our classroom and was pointed into the room!" the other boy gasped excitedly, "and he looks like the same man in our books. You know? The shinigami dressed in a long black trench coat with thin-black glasses, long silver hair with a braid on the right side of his face, and a long silver death scythe so old and renowned for reaping souls with only one touch –"
"William you read too much," the other shook his head as he set a big piece of red fabric to the side of the box and continued to look for different colors. "Even if he was here he won't pick us! Maybe you, but not me," he huffed at him. "What's his name? Undertaker? Wouldn't he want a boy who came from a good family like yourself? I don't see why he would care though… he looked as if he was annoyed to be here," the boy huffed again, setting more red fabric to the side and also picking up black, gray, and white from the box.
"You saw him?" William gasped. "Grell why didn't you tell me –"
"It's no big deal," Grell shrugged, keeping his eyes averted from the other boy and kept his gaze on the box in front of him. "He was talking to one of our teachers about something and pointing into the classroom during our naptime. No big deal. I was just wanted to fix up Anna before I added her features," he huffed as he found two large identical green buttons and set then off to the side. "He wasn't very enthusiastic till he pointed to us and a strange smile crept on his face. It was creepy," Grell thought, pausing for a few moments before continuing his search. "That's all. Didn't do anything else –"
"I'm so jealous," William pouted, crossing his arms over his chest before looking over at the colors of fabric Grell had collected as a frown showed on his face. "So… that's going to be Anna?" he asked, easily stirred from his thoughts.
"Duh," Grell shook his head. "Why not? I haven't seen her in years and no one has told me where she'd gone… I wonder if she's still alive."
"That's horrible thing to say about your sister!" William gasped. "Of course she's alive! They would tell you if she died –"
"Probably not," Grell shook his head, correcting him. "They never do… they don't care about me."
"Fine Grell," William sighed as he stood up and began to walk away from him. "I'm going to grab another book to read. Watching you sew that… doll together is getting boring."
"Whatever," he shrugged back, collecting the pieces of fabric he found and running off to the corner of the room.
!#$%^&*()
"… and without further ado," the head director finished, "please give a round of applause for the Undertaker." Everyone clapped excitedly as the dark dressed man stood up and walked up to the podium, Grell shaking his head as William stood up happily with everyone else clapping enthusiastically for the legendary man.
Once everyone sat down Grell puckered his lips, holding up and hand and whispering into William's ear. "He's not that great," he huffed as William looked at him wide-eyed.
"What are you insane?" William whispered back as quietly as he could. "He's is legendary. He is the Undertaker. What more do you expect? –"
"It's all a bunch of lies," Grell rubbed his nose. "He's probably just some shinigami that the council has put on a pedestal to show off to thick-minded shinigami as a proper man who follows the rules obediently~. I don't buy it and Anna wouldn't either. I'm going to go," he finished, trying to stand up as William kept a firm grip on his arm.
"What are you stupid?" William huffed back. "It's disrespectful to leave an assembly –"
"I don't care," Grell stuck out his tongue and roughly pulled his arm away from William. "I'll do as I like and no one will stop me. Tell me how everything goes," he angrily grunted as he walked away from William, not bothering to look back as he moved through the small crowd of children in the back row and escaped out the back door unnoticed. William only shook his head as he looked back to the front, bright, light shinigami green eyes staring in awe at the man speaking into the podium.
!#$%^&*()
Once Grell escaped he let out a tired sigh, clinging to the doll in his hand as he walked outside into the rain. He smiled, looking up to the sky as his clothes began to get soaked in water. "Anna…" he sighed, clutching his doll tightly to his chest as he spun around in the rain, "I wish you were still here. You always loved the rain didn't you?" He skipped around in the mud, not having a care in the world as he got drenched and laughed madly up at the sky.
"No one cares, no one cares," he giggled as he skipped, "about little, little me! No one cares, no one cares, about little, little you! No one cares, no one cares, about little, little spirits! No one cares, no one cares, about little, little souls!"
He continued to skip around in the mud in a crazed daze and sung whatever popped into his head, not noticing the shadows that began to loom over him as deep laughter came from behind him.
!#$%^&*()
)(*&^%$#!
"… and thank you for inviting me to your wonderful academy," the Undertaker finished, giving the crowd a slight bow as he went and sat back down. Everyone clapped for him and he let out a coarse sigh, glad the worst is over.
"Does anyone have questions for Mister Undertaker?" the head director asked the crowd of children, almost all of them raising their hands to get their questions answered. "Yes you over there?" he pointed to the older students in the back.
"What's your real name?" the boy asked, looking over to the Undertaker expecting an answer.
"I don't know anymore," Undertaker said honestly, the boy sitting down with a pout as the director raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged.
"Yes you?" the director pointed to the back again.
"Is reaping souls hard?" another child asked, the Undertaker putting a finger to his chin and pretending to think to himself.
"… Only if you don't know how to reap," he explained, "and that's why you're in school, to learn." The boy frowned and pouted with the answer he gave him. Undertaker didn't care if his answers made sense to their young minds or not; he only wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
"I have a question," a young black-haired boy in the back exclaimed as the other hands were slowly moving down and the other students looked at the Undertaker disappointed.
"Wait till you're called –"
"No let him speak," Undertaker told the head director sternly, ushering the boy to continue.
"Oh ummm…" he coughed, scratching his nose before asking his question. "When we get glasses as full-fledged shinigamis, can we take off the glasses to sleep and eat? What if your nose is itchy? Can we take them off to scratch our nose?"
"What?" the Undertaker chuckled lightly at the boy's question. Everyone in the room, even the head director, stared silently and in awe as the legend laughed at the question. "My lad," he smirked, "I don't see why you would need to take your glasses off to eat, and if you have an itchy nose I think it would be best to scratch your nose instead of thinking about the itch for the rest of the day. Also, wouldn't you think its common sense to take your glasses off when you sleep? You wouldn't want to break them… would you?"
"No sir," the boy nodded as a cracked smile showing up on his face when his question was answered.
"What's your name?" Undertaker decided to ask.
"William T. Spears," the boy explained, sitting back down.
"Well Mr. Spears," the Undertaker nodded back, "that was a very interesting~ question."
William smiled at the compliment as he sat happily back down, the Undertaker's smile sweeping off of his face as he turned back to the head director hoping the questions were over. "Now if there's any more questions –" The head director paused, suddenly hearing commotion right outside the doors. "Ummm… excuse me I have to see what's going on," he huffed, passing by the students as quickly as possible and opening the door.
Undertaker raised an eyebrow, the other children turning to the head director as he walked out. "Hey let's see what's going on!" one of the students encouraged the others, everyone running out of the doors the head director had left in. Leaving out the back door Undertaker walked slinky around the group of students that have walked out the doors to investigate, staying in the shadows as he emerged behind the students and looked to the middle of the courtyard.
Grell was thrown to the ground, his doll flying behind him into the mud as a tall boy loomed over him and kicked him in the stomach. Then the boy let out a scream, Grell sinking his sharp teeth in the boy's leg and throwing him to the ground. He jumped on top of the boy and began to punch his face, breaking his nose with two swift punches to the face. "Shut up!" Grell yelled as tears streamed down his face. "Shut up! You're the freak! You're the vermin! Go away!" throwing one last punch in the boy's face before William grabbed his arms and pulled Grell away, the red-headed boy yelling at William to let him go as the boy's friends helped him up and pulled him to the side.
"What is going on?" the head director huffed, staring Grell down as he glared back.
"He kicked me!" the other boys lied.
"And he bit me! Bit my arm right here!" he huffed as the boy pointed to his arm with imaginary pain.
"Grell Sutcliff, apologize," the head director glared at the boy.
"No," Grell growled back. "They're lying! –"
"Grell come on –"
"Can it William," Grell hissed back. "You're always on their side." Then he stood up, grabbing his doll off of the ground, "Fine," he huffed glaring at the boys. "I am sorry," Grell grumbled under his breath, causing the boys to chuckle at him, "that you're all a bunch of weak minded boys that doesn't know the difference between a simple bitch slap and an actual punch." He looked up at them, glaring his angry green eyes at them as he spat blood on the ground and wiped the blood and tears from his face. "You can all burn in hell!" he spat in their direction, pushing past the crowd as quickly as he could to get away from anymore punishments.
"Sutcliff, you get back here!" the head director yelled, shaking his head as he let out a tired sigh and ordered the children back to their classrooms. "Bring those children to the nurse, again," he sighed, the teachers helping them along and he rubbed his temples in frustration. "I'm sorry Mister Undertaker," he sighed again as the man walked into the courtyard with his hands behind his back, "but that boy has been nothing but trouble since he was brought here –"
"His name is Grell Sutcliff?" Undertaker asked ignoring his apology. "He fights all the time?"
"Every day," the head director sighed, "and sometimes I'm close to my wit's end –"
"I must get going," Undertaker said as he looked at his watch and gave him an empty smile. "You seem to handle everything accordingly so I will give you a good report."
"Oh really?" the head director gasped, "Thank you –" He frowned, watching as the Undertaker stopped talking to him and turned around to exit the school grounds.
)(*&^%$#!
!#$%^&*()
Grell sniffled to himself, huddling in the back of the orphanage next to the garbage cans. He looked down at his doll and wiped the mud away, hugging the doll tightly as he started to sob. He hated living here. He hated it! He hated it! He wanted to crawl in a hole and die!... Wait. He looked up, rubbing his eyes and grumbling to himself. When did he become so weak? It's like what Anna said, 'If you don't like the situation then leave.' Then that's what he'll do, leave! But how?...
He let out a tired sigh, looking up to the night sky as he analyzed the idea to himself. "Hmmmm…" He could run away to the nearest town! Change his outfit so he looked like human boys and make his way a few towns away, but what about protection?... Next door was the secondary school where the student scythes are kept. That's what he'll do! Steal a scythe from the gym, since no one will miss one, and make his way into town. Then he could get away without anyone noticing… hopefully. Pouting he looked behind him, rubbing his temples as he thought about a different subject. What if William gets worried? Grell couldn't just leave without saying goodbye, even if he was a pain in his ass, he was his only friend… He'll just go to his classroom and leave him a note in his desk. That's what he'll do!
Jumping up excitedly Grell gathered his things, taking out a ratty old brown bag and stuffing his doll in it. If he couldn't finish his doll here then he would do so somewhere else. Looking around he peeked through the window, noticing the adults were checking off the young orphaned children for the night. He would have to sneak back into line before they got to his name, which was fine since he was close to the end of the alphabet. Once everyone was asleep he would sneak out to never see the horrible orphanage and, even better, the shinigami realm ever again.
!#$%^&*()
A/N: Well to start, I'm playing off of the idea of the OVA, where Grell is still bad assed and doesn't take shit from anyone. He had to grow into different personalities/quirks he has, but life lessons do that ^^ And if you've been reading my other story, yeah the ages the children shinigamis/supernatural beings grow up are at different rates. For this story… every two years to a human's one? I guess? It varies as they get older. The older they grow the quicker they age. Since most look to be about 20 or so, at about that point (their graduation age) they stop growing as fast. Perhaps physically growing in age every few decades? Centuries? Whatever. There you go ^^ That's as logical as I can get =O Tell me if I should continue! Should I add things? Not add things? BTW I want to try to keep the OCs at a minimum, but any ideas you may have for little runaway Grell go right ahead and say them now ^^ (I'm currently writing his runaway arc so anything you may want to see should be suggested now)