Cross posted from my ao3 account: /works/4205379/chapters/9502695

Takes place before the Haunted Castle episode in the first season anime and immediately after the Ship Voyage Arc (the sinking of the Campania) in the manga.

This work does not progress in chronological order. Instead, the story is told in pairs (and occasionally triplets) of short, non-sequential scenes.

As a reference, the verb tense of the scene can help distinguish its point in time. Scenes that contain actions that occur in "real time" are written in a present tense. Scenes in which the action has already occurred are written in a past tense.

Comments are appreciated! New chapters are being written!

With a swoop of his hand, the young earl backed his bishop down three spaces on the diagonal. Check.

"Sebastian, it is possible to for you to die, correct?" Ciel asked, breaking study's stilted ambiance. His voice was, as always, level and calculated. It failed to admit the slightest hint of anticipation for the butler's response.

"It is the nature of every living creature to die." The involuntary hitch in the the boy's throat pleased the demon greatly. Including yours. Sebastian continued, "Young master, is something the matter? You aren't suddenly concerned for my well being, are you?"

"Quite the opposite." Another pawn was knocked off the board. "I would, however, like to know how you intend to uphold your end of the contract should you perish."

Sebastian smirked. The boy wouldn't push him to answer that line of questioning. He removed the empty desert plate and tea cup from the desk with a flourish."You aren't the least bit curious of a demon's weaknesses?"

Check again. King and queen fork. Pity.

"No? How very unlike yourself."

"Unlike me that I don't find it necessary to hold your mortality against you? I have no need to further manipulate you." He traced the place where his eye patch met skin with the tip of his finger, knowing it would drive Sebastian crazy. I own you.

Ciel looked up from his game to his butler for the first time since breakfast. "Besides, by remaining ignorant, I can continue to ask impossible things of you with no consequence to myself."

His knight captured his queen.

"Sebastian, do you know the true tragedy behind playing against oneself?"

The tea trolley stopped at the door. That you have no friends. "I'm afraid not, sir."

"It's that even in victory, one can never entirely crush one's opponent."

"I do suppose that's one way of looking at the glass."

"What even are you going on about? I never said anything about a glass! And where do you think you're going?"

"Master, I do have other responsibilities to attend to besides monitoring your playtime …" he paused for a rebuttal. Ciel refused to be baited, holding back the retort on the tip of his tongue. Sebastian continued, "… including diner preparations." And supervising those three.

"Sit."

The command ignited the familiar burn on back of his clothed hand. "Yes, my lord." With a sigh, Sebastian slid the cart back into the room and settled into the seat opposite Ciel. The earl began to reset the pieces.

"Young master, if I may—"

"No." The boy rotated the chessboard to assign the players their armies. "Your move."

He wants me to play white? How very interesting …

The last frame of Sebastian's cinematic record stops abruptly. The butt of a pole arm coils the jumble of film tendrils that spill out from the his body and jams them discourteously back into his bare chest. Rough hands take hold of him, pulling his shredded flesh into place and suturing it together.

It takes a moment for the pain of his body to reach his brain. It's the most intense sensation he has ever felt, and for the first time in his long existence, Sebastian wishes for death to take him. The contract seal screams for his attention, crushing his mind and sending fire through his veins from his hand. He's naked and uncharacteristically vulnerable. He can't breathe … he can't breathe and he needs to return to his young master. The agony will be over if he could reach his master.

I … I ca- I can't. N- no … m- my lord.

He has to say it out loud. He would take the punishment after, but he has to reject the young master's order.

It is too late. Sebastian is beyond words, whimpering and moaning, lost in the pain. An animalistic instinct takes him over. His teeth gnash together; his fangs pierce into the inside of his lip. Saliva and phlegm run down his jaw and puddle on his neck. His human form begins to fall away, too weak to keep it. The fresh stitches rip through his skin, reopening the wounds the bizarre dolls and Undertaker carved into him.

Stop, stop … p- please. Ju- just please let it be … let it be over. Let me be over.

He hasn't more blood left in his body to bleed. The contract has a grip on to him, forcing his life to continue. To endure until it all until his master releases him. It's the only thing keeping him alive.

Sebastian's cinematic record shoots out of his chest seconds before his wings erupt from his back with a small explosion of fluid soaked feathers. His torso had still been too humanoid for the appendages to unfurl properly and had torn through delicate human tissue. The wings drop to the sides of the operating table, gracelessly, as his cinematic record drags his conscience into another memory.

Spears' death scythe cuts through the air a second time to return the demon's essence to his body.

"Again. You did it correctly. Now do it efficiently." William doesn't even try to mask the irritation in his voice. The four subordinate reapers scramble to restitch and bandage the parting gift Undertaker left on the body of the dying demon. "If I'm forced to touch my scythe to that wretched creature a third time, I will guarantee each of you a month of overtime."