1 It was that time of the day again. Time for Ciel to learn the wonderful wonders of fencing. Oh, how he didn't have time for this . . . But, his contract stated that Sebastian must take good care of his young master, thus including teaching him how to sword fight.
"Young Master, you have to at least try!" Sebastian lectured, picking up Ciel's sword.
"I don't have time for this! I'm already behind schedule and my papers are due tomorrow!"
"Young master, I will propose a deal. If you can beat me, I will let you go work. Am I clear?"
Ciel looked at his butler and sighed. "Sebastian, I am a twelve-year-old boy."
"You certainly are, Young Master. What about it?"
"Well, you are a five-thousand year-old demon. How on earth do you suspect I can beat you?"
"Now, now. I am not that old."
Ciel sighed again, then looked at his butler, then at his sword, then again at his butler.
"Alright, I'll do it. Don't hold back."
Sebastian but his hand over his non-existent heart. "Yes, my lord."
There was a clash of flimsy, bendable swords (Heheheh...), and Sebastian noted that his small young master was indeed very good at this sport. Suddenly, Sebastian stopped short. He felt a small poke on his chest. He looked down, and it was the sword.
Ciel had hit him.
Ciel had won.
"Y-y-y-young Master... I-I-."
Now, now, Sebastian. Don't look so surprised. I must say it's insulting."
"B-b-but how?"
"Well, I guess you could say I am just one hell of a butler's master."