Author's Notes: Okay, guys, I haven't written Kuroshitsuji for a while, so forgive me if this is slightly off-key. I just recently got back into the fandom (thanks to the musicals, god Yuya is sexy) so here you go. Please comment and favorite. This story won't be long, I promise.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. I do own the lovin' touchin' squeezin' though.
It was strange, not feeling the cold of the January evening as he should have been able to. The snowflakes danced around his figure, the slight wind lifting and lowering them in an imperceptible rhythm. Not to him, though, no, he could count out the paces of the tiny icicles as they pranced, shaken by nothing but the breeze. His breathing did not disturb their peaceful waltz, as he had none. That was strange, too, he supposed, but he had long ago decided not to give it much thought. Long ago? He mused to himself. Who are you fooling? Nobody. That 'long ago' that you're clutching onto so forcefully happened only a year ago. And look where you are. Stifling a chuckle, he decided to finally open his other eye, unbothered by the fact that the black patch that had once hidden it, was absent. There was nobody to see him here. What with his different eyes or his regal demeanor, he would still be an uncanny sight to behold as his slight frame stood waist-deep in the frozen waters of the lake. It felt lukewarm, just like the air around it, and he could only stand there, his hands lying flat on the surface. The concentric circles that had spread when he had taken his first steps into the water were long gone and the broken surface was as calm as the ice surrounding it.
"You're late," he murmured into the darkness, seeing what was in front of him perfectly. Turning on the spot and sending shivers down the lake, he glared at the one who had disturbed him. "I told you not to be late, Sebastian."
The figure in front of him stopped short, looking at him blankly. His butler, his faithful pawn and now his eternal curse, stood before him clad in all black, a fluffy white towel slung over his right arm. In his left hand, normally he would have been carrying a candelabra with a couple of lit candles settled into the brass holders. Now, since there was no need for light for either of them to see, it lay flat against his thigh, his arm rigid in his posture. Again, it was strange, seeing him like this. It had been a year but Ciel still couldn't get used to how his butler looked. He was sure nothing had changed about his appearance but as they say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and the beholder was finally able to see the reality of his demon's appearance. His human eyes had been weak, superficial in what they had been seeing since that fateful day four years ago. Back then, all he had seen was a devilishly handsome man in a meticulously ironed suit and shined shoes, with a lovely smirk and oh, those crimson eyes. The eyes that had consumed him from the very beginning, devouring him, or rather, promising to devour him, to someday make Ciel his. Now, though, Ciel saw so much more. That handsome face was in reality even more beautiful, dazzling in its pulchritude. The soft skin was indeed smoother than marble. The demon was perfection embodied. It was ironic, how much like an angel he looked.
"Yes, young master. Forgive me," came the soft answer, which would have made his eyebrow twitch in irritation had he still been human. It was irking how blank, how unfeeling the once passionate words sounded now, how unwilling and lifeless his butler had become. It had not been a gradual process - the next day after Ciel died, he had already been able to feel the change. The cold, the lack of life… It was astounding. "I was wondering-,"
"-If I was cold?" Ciel let out a bitter laugh, walking out of the water without as much as a shiver. Droplets of water cascaded down his lower back and legs, shimmering underneath the moonlight. He disregarded the towel that had been held out to him expectantly, opting to pick up the large shirt he had discarded upon his entry to the lake. He would never admit it even under torture - as if something as petty as that would make him suffer now - but the shirt had once belonged to Sebastian. The butler had thrown it away when Grell had spilt soup on it during his brief time as a butler at the Phantomhive mansion, claiming it was un-washable. Meylin had salvaged it from the rubbish and washed it until her knuckles bled, effectively getting rid of the stain. From there, Ciel had overheard her talking to Finny about the shirt and he, not thinking about dignity for a second, had snuck into the servants' quarters and stolen the shirt. Technically, it had belonged to him from the very beginning, seeing as it was part of the Phantomhive fortune. It had also been the only thing he had taken with him from the mansion when they left. To his human nose, it had smelt only of soap and effort but to a demon, he could still distinguish the spicy, musky scent that was Sebastian. It wasn't for comfort, at least not the physical kind, that he still used it. No, it most certainly wasn't.
Sebastian nodded, his eyes blank and lacking their usual brilliance. Usual, huh? The last time his eyes had shone had been one year ago. Exactly one year ago. Turning sideways as he shrugged on the shirt, Ciel gave him a condescending once-over. Touching the palm of his hand to his chest, the younger demon closed his eyes in concentration and felt the fabric shift beneath his hold. He looked down to see a black pair of slim pants and a warm frock coat the color of coal wrap around his form in place of the shirt. He still felt the softness of the cotton but those around him including himself saw the wonderful illusion his powers were now able to create. The notion of walking the world clad in only a shirt that reached down to his knees thanks to his height had first disturbed him but he had claimed that wasting money on petty things like clothes would no longer be justified. He wondered if what Sebastian was wearing was weaved from imagination as well.
Combing a long-fingered hand through his hair, he felt it lengthen in his grasp. He quite liked the color and the texture that he had had when he had been human but he had often wondered how it would look a bit longer. Wishing for a black ribbon, he felt it knot around a ponytail of fine, slate-colored hair. Ghosting a hand over his eyes, Ciel knew the only thing that he would never be able to hide with even his powers would be the mark as it simmered and throbbed beneath the pale moonlight. Finally, as an afterthought he wished for himself to become a slight taller. Feeling himself shift so that he no longer had to bend his neck so much to look up at his butler's face, Ciel sighed contently, putting a hand, rid of all Phantomhive regalia, into his pocket.
Sebastian watched him shift and change without so much as blinking, the towel still slung around his arm like a drunken old friend, wrinkled and cold. Ciel knew he was envious of his Young Master as he, stuck as a butler, would have to ask for permission to shape-shift. It was almost disconcerting how the younger demon knew Sebastian thought he would not be allowed the luxury. He was far more hearty than that. He knew what it felt like to be stuck in an insignificant, weak little body, unable to escape. But, the demonic butler never asked and so he never contended.
They set off into the woods behind the lake, neither talking nor enjoying the silence. Whips of cold wind hit their stoic faces with forceful blows yet nothing changed in the beautiful serenity of their expressions. One would say they were peaceful. One would, of course, be a fool.
"Sebastian?" Ciel asked cautiously, feeling the air for any emotion. Nothing.
"Yes, Young Master?"
"Call me by my first name from now on. I see that is a growing trend in society nowadays. That is an order." He felt the contract mark glow for a second before fading away. He could have sighed with the drama of the situation - forcing Sebastian to address him like a friend was probably the ultimate cruelty.
"Are you sure… Mr. Ciel?" Sebastian answered formally, bowing his head in mock respect. Ciel stopped in his tracks and turned to his butler:
"Look at me, Sebastian." He watched the beautiful face emerge from behind ebony locks as they fell away under the force of gravity. The pale skin seemed almost iridescent in the moonlight, giving off a pale sheen that felt like staring into the sun. A very cruel, lonely sun it was. The thin mouth was twisted into a firm line, a line of obedience but the worst thing were the eyes… A matte vermilion, dull as dust, tasteless as English wine, looked back at him calmly. Putting a finger underneath the almost doll-like chin, Ciel swallowed.
"Sebastian, are you… are you happy? Don't answer that. I know you aren't." He took one more look at the stoic face of his butler before turning away silently. They stood in the deep blue of the forest, neither saying a word as Ciel raised his head to look heavenwise where he knew, his parent watched on, tsking disapprovingly at the things he had done. For the first time in twelve months, he felt something prickle behind his eyelids. They were not tears, demons could not cry, but a mere memory of his humanity he was sure he would lost soon enough. He realized how easy it had been as a human child - people gave allowances for emotions, they only shook their heads when he let himself cry. Taking a deep breath that already felt foreign in his dead lungs, Ciel averted his eyes from the sky look at the soft snow coating the floor of the forest. It felt as though a stone had settled in between his ribs, robbing him of breath and thought. I thought I was not to feel this way again… Not to feel at all.
"Go," he whispered into the night, feeling his butler's form shift behind him curiously. Ah, one emotion. Turning to Sebastian, he saw the red eyes widen a bit as he strode forward and ripped the towel from his grasp. "Leave."
"Young Master?" Sebastian asked hoarsely, his eyes showing something…
"I want you to be free. One year. You have served me for one year since it happened. I want no more. I want you, as my servant, to leave me," Ciel continued, gauging Sebastian's reactions greedily. This was more than he had received in months and he was about to throw it all away. "I am a demon now. Strong. Powerful. I can protect myself so I have no need for a guardian at my side. I want you to live your life… death, whatever it may be, I want you to carry on and just go." His elongated claws ripped at Sebastian's butler tailcoat, opening deep gashes in the fine fabric. He tore the seams and threw buttons to the side, leaving his butler exposed in the winter wind. He is so beautiful.
Sebastian stood, unmoving, letting little snowflakes settle onto his creamy marble skin. How is this happening?
"Go. Leave. Just go," his Young Master whispered, nearly choking on his own words. He is not ready to let me go. "Go! Go! Get out of here, you stupid demon! Get out! Out! I want to be alone! I don't need you! Leave me! Leave! Leave!…"
The wind shifted and as Ciel looked up from his position on his knees in the snow, his hands grasping the frozen earth, ripping it from where it sat, there was nobody around to see him break.
You're so stupid. 'If you love something set it free', indeed!