Author's Note: I have this planned for nearly 5 years - yes, it's a ridiculous amount of time. I thought it was about time to write this.
This is set when everyone still lives at East End and will have two chapters, with Doll as the main character - she doesn't have that name at this point (most of them don't, they'll refer to themselves by the family nicknames).
Lastly, cockney English is interesting but very hard for me to write with, so I 'ope ye don't mind a bit o' tryin' and possible foul ups.
Both original and current draft made at candle light as usual, and I specifically chose a candle scent I used 5 years ago and the same music I listen back then to write this now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji or any of its characters, they belong to Toboso Yana.
Edit: Thank you so much to TheCrowMaiden for the thorough correction of my mistakes! I really appreciate the time you took to help me.
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A middle aged lady called out to her customers, showcasing the different flowers in her cart and inviting the passer-by to feel their scent and appreciate their vibrant colours. Some of the lords and ladies seemed interested and let out comments and exchanged coins with the flower lady, but most people shot a single glance and continued on their much more important affairs.
The most interested and fascinated person was actually a young freckled girl peeking from the other side of the street. Against all her deepest desires, she didn't dare approach the cart, afraid and expecting to be chased off because of the dirty tattered makeshift dress she wore, and even more so because of her face.
She loved flowers. As soon as she had caught a glimpse of the flower lady from afar, she ran as close as she dared and stared at all the different colours and shapes with wide bright eyes, her mouth parted in awe. With her front tooth missing, she would look like an adorable young girl making her way to play with her friends after a very full and delicious lunch served by several maids, and maybe even go to a fancy tailor to find new garments.
But she was far from being a high born lady to afford all that luxury. Quite the contrary.
She was meant to be begging for money, but she ignored her rumbling stomach as best as she could. When, in turn, her stomach ignored her and growled so loudly she actually trembled from the ache, the girl hit her tummy angrily.
"Stop that!" she commanded. "I just want to see the flowers a bit more."
Amongst the flower cart were roses, big bushes with red and pink roses, but the white ones were her favorite. They almost seemed to sparkle! So white, she'd be afraid to even touch them and stain the petals.
The truth was, after struggling so hard to forget everything that happened before she was kicked out to the streets like trash, she couldn't (and didn't want to) even remember her real name anymore. And she was happy for that - she could be whoever she wanted, and chose the name she liked. Peeking the beautiful flowers from afar, she decided her name would be Rose - not because she was beautiful, but because she loved the flowers.
"Rose," she tried the name out loud and though it sounded strange for such an ungirly scarred girl like herself, it was perfect.
The flower lady started to move her cart to another street, and one of the flowers fell down to the ground. Rose squeeled softly and waited a few seconds while a chariot crossed the street before running to the other side and dared to pick it up; it was a bright but small sunflower, and Rose smiled widely.
"What're ye doin'?" came the immediate shout, and she cringed, prepared to run. The scream that followed made her realize it was the flower lady who had caught her, and was now shouting at her, but as Rose ran away, she tripped on a man coming out of a pub.
"Watch where ye're goin'!" she was shouted at again as the man dusted off his clothes, like he feared he had been sullied. "Gutter rat!"
She stood up fast, but as she did so she felt the sunflower slip through her fingers. She had no time to pick it up, not with the flower lady and man of the pub yelling. Her feet were cold but she was used to running barefoot. She only forced her small panting body to stop when she was sure she was safe.
Rose inhaled and regained her breath slowly, looking down at her dirty fingers. The flower was gone. She hadn't even stolen it, it was dropped on the floor, no one would want it. She didn't do anything wrong. At the smallest sign of her eyes tearing, she shook her head to stop them. Maybe some other day she would find another flower. Maybe...
A sudden thought crossed her mind. Maybe, just maybe... what if she sold roses herself? She'd seen the fancy lords buying flowers, it could earn them some money! Of course she wouldn't be able to get actual roses, but what if she made them instead?
Rose looked around the alley she'd found shelter in, spoting a scattered journal paper and picking it up. It was dry and just a bit dusty. With a slightly frown from concentration, she remembered the shape of the roses and tried to plan how this might work: there was the stalk, and then the petals, starting from the core and then adding petals around it to make a nice fluffy rose bud. Rose folded the paper and then started to rip pieces in random shapes and lengths, literally piecing the scraps of paper together, and a rose unfolded before her eyes. The girl's lips opened in a big smile.
"Gutter rat!" someone screamed out of nowhere, but this time it was a choir of younger voices. It wasn't just adults they had to watch out for; other children too. Most of the boys and girls that pick on them weren't nowhere near high born, just children of bakers, shoemakers or even pageboys that would gang up and scare or beat them. Rose had had to flee from them before. She knew how those children, along with everyone else, targetted them because they were different.
As soon as she tried to flee the alley, she came face to face with two boys, so similar to each other they had to be brothers, even wearing matching grey berets on their heads. They were barely over ten years old, but had a manacing look on their faces when they recognized her from her tattered clothes.
"Found ye, rat!" one of them spat. "Ye stole somethin' again, didn'tcha? Bloody rats, go back to yer gutters!"
"I didn't steal anythin'!" she defended herself, but obviously neither of them was interested.
"What's that? Gonna eat paper trash now too?" One of them slapped her hands and again she was robbed of a flower, but this time it sent an angry jolt in her.
"No! Leave me alone!"
She was suddenly dazed when she was knocked down by a loud slap that left her cheek burning and throbbing, but it was the boy who let out a yelp.
"She's diseased!"
"Argh! Disgusting!" the other one echoed.
Rose's hand held the injured side of her face that now burned again, tears gleaming on her eyes but this time they fell from the pain and from the words. Her teeth clenched, prepared for another hit, but the boys were scared off and ran away, leaving her crying and sprawled on the cold floor. The fragile paper rose which had been knocked off her hand had peeled down in the fall and its petals were now drifting down the street like nothing more than the scraps of paper they really were. The rose was now just a stump of crumpled paper someone might have thrown out like trash, just like it had happened to her.
Rose sniffed and felt another tear trail down her face, and as if she wasn't feeling bad already, the pain in her stomach was suddenly so much she had to bend and squeeze her belly with all the strength she had, trying to apease it any way she could. It wasn't just growling, it was an actual painful twinge that nearly rendered her motionless.
She had no idea when she had last eaten anything.
Feeling utterly beat down and absolutely starving, Rose roammed back to the gutter she called home, staying away from the main streets as much as she could. Big Brother, Big Sis and Brother Peter were all there. Everyone else was probably trying to get money or food - as she was supposed to have been. She flinched in antecipation when Brother Peter saw her return empty handed.
"No food?"
Rose shook her head in defeat.
"I was yelled at 'cause I picked up a flower from the floor, and then 'em kids laughed and hit me 'cause of me rose..."
"Wha'? Did ye even try to get food?"
"I-" Rose let her chin fall to her chest in shame. As Brother Peter cursed, she shyly approached Big Brother in hopes he wouldn't be angry at her too.
She felt very guilty when she looked at him. Big Brother was getting thinner each day, but even more so since he'd fell ill. He had still tried to steal them some food, and it had been lucky Brother Jumbo had been there when Big Brother was cornered down by the adults. They only managed to beat him once, otherwise Rose feared he might have died - she still shivered from the very thought. All of them agreed he just couldn't force himself like that again, even Brother Peter. His breathing worsened each day and now sounded short and painful, and they avoided moving him too much in fear of hurting him.
Despite that, Big Brother looked at her with heavy eyelids and didn't appear angry or disappointed at all, so that was a relief.
"Did ye keep the rose?" Big Sis asked. She was sitting right next to Big Brother, actually helping to hold him straight at the same time she provided some warmth to him, since the old shirt covering him like a blanket did a faint job. Rose knew the cold from the wall against his back wouldn't help him at all, but there was nothing they could do.
"No... I made the rose. I thought, maybe if I could sell 'em, we could..."
"What 're ye talkin' 'bout?" Brother Peter asked in a very different tone from Big Sis.
"I reckon'd... I made 'em out of paper" Rose said softly, chin glued to her chest again in embarrassment at the idea herself. It sounded really stupid now.
"How'd ye make them?" however, Big Sis didn't sound angry, and when the younger girl looked up, she saw how the crimson eyes seemed interested. Rose suddenly noticed Sis had a fresh bruise on her cheekbone, but she didn't say anything in that regard.
As she looked for another journal page, Rose found herself sharing how the idea occured to her. She ripped the bits and pieces and folded the paper when it needed to be, talking nonstop how she now admitted it was dumb, but for an instant she thought it might help them. When she finished, Big Sis was blinking, trying to figure out how she did it.
"It's very pretty," Big Brother said in a low voice but with a smile. Rose blushed and scratched her head.
"It's just folded paper." She hold out the flower to him and Big Brother uncovered his arm to hold the rose, placing it on top of his head. The little girl let out a laugh at the silly image. He always tried to make them laugh.
"I want one too," Big Sis asked, and Rose was more than happy to comply. Big Sis tried to imitate her with a piece of the journal too, but it was too fast and the layers ended up scattered on her lap. As it the new flower was finished, Big Sis took the flower and smelled it, as if she expected to feel the rosery scent out of the old journal paper.
"It's beautiful." She carefully placed the flower behind her ear, and surprisingly the paper didn't peel and tear down, held by her tangled black curls. Big Brother moved his chest forward so he could see her and smiled. He tried to lift his arm, probably to pull a hair out of the way, but the limb failed midway when the famine took the remaining strength out of the muscles. Both of them masked it so the little girl wouldn't notice, but luckily she had been looking at Brother Peter when the blond made a remark about the foolish roses.
"Why don'tcha make one for all o' us?" Big Brother suggested, leaning back against the wall a little more roughly than it was supposed to and resting his shoulder against Big Sis's, his head against hers, probably without really realizing. "They'll love it."
The freckled girl could barely contain her excitement.
"Why 're ye so bloody permissive wi' 'er?" Brother Peter spat angrily nevertheless, who had stood distant from them but watched the scene unfold. "Ye think it'll 'elp 'er when yer dead?"
Rose held her breath suddenly, so she didn't really process the frozen stare Big Brother shot at Brother Peter.
"Ye're dyin', Big Brother? No! It's just flu ain't it?"
"'Course, sis." He blinked and he looked even more tired when the anger vanished. "It's a slimey git of a flu." (1)
The little girl bit her lip in concern, but she didn't know what to do. Medicine was too expensive, they couldn't even afford bread. Maybe if she could actually make roses that were worth buying, she could save enough money to try and get something... but even she was past that. And she didn't believe the tooth fairy would bring any more coins for her (2). All she could do was watch and hope he'd recover.
"Tell ye what, as soon as I get better, I'll buy ye one of them roses."
Her whole face brightened up at that, for he'd just promised two things she wished with all her heart.
"Really? Then ye better remember that, I'll hold ye on that promise ye know?!"
"I'll make sure he does, too," Big Sis added. "I want to see ye looking like a princess with that rose."
She couldn't help be remembered of the boys' reaction earlier. "Ah, ye know I can't look like a pretty lass."
"Of course ye can," it was Big Brother who replied now. "Yer already our beautiful little sister, ye'll turn int'a princess."
Rose smiled again, feeling her cheeks hot yet again. However, the painful bite in her tummy made her wrench forward against her will.
Somehow she knew Big Brother's fist clenched beneath the shirt, because she too would feel guilty and responsible for not being good enough for their family in face of their suffering - she just had felt that way. But he was sick, it wasn't his fault. And like him, Rose didn't want to worry the others, so she stood up right away.
"I'll be workin' on them roses then! Yer next, Brother Peter!" she ran to try and numb her stomach out while in search for more journals, but still shouted over her shoulder. "I'll see if I find us somethin' to eat too! Oh and don't forget yer promise, right Big Brother?!"
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to be continued
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Author's Notes: (1) 'git' is a slang word for annoying or stupid person. (2) the tooth fairy reference is from the adorable little manga extra Toboso Yana did, though I guess everyone's read it.
Quick backstory: 5 years ago I was taught in 2 minutes how to craft paper roses, and back then I was going through a very rough time. Each time I hit the bottom I'd craft them, which was about the time I thought of writing this story about roses as a cathartic mean.
What I want with this is to finally let it out of my head after this long - I need to overcome this. However, any and all feedback would be very appreaciated, and I thank you if you've read it and share some opinions.