He was standing here again. The smell of the rain flooding his senses and the rust of the metal gate scraping against his fingertips. What was it that drove him to come to this dilapidated apartment block over and over, he wondered, checking his watch. It was cold out, the wind driving errant raindrops into the corridor itself as he straightened his black jacket and brushed off any specks of dust. The years had taken away the familiar styles which were now antiquated and stilted, and he was no longer just a butler, but somehow his obsession with an immaculate appearance had never faded.

Somewhere around the corner, a neighbour's dog barked.

Reaching out to press the doorbell, he was mildly surprised when the door swung open abruptly.

"Oh. It's you." A voice, bored and disinterested.

Even now, some things never changed.

He forced himself to smile, wondering at the furtive emotion that worked its way into him stealthily. The young man before him looked even paler than he did on his last visit. His hair was longer now and a little shaggy, falling past his shoulders in a glossy blue-black. His long hair only accentuated the sharpness of his face. His eyes were half-lidded, almost hazed over.

"Expecting someone else, are we?"

He laughed shortly then, a flash of clarity in those cold blue eyes, before he turned the lock to let him in.

Sebastian followed him in, looking at the house surreptitiously. Nothing much had changed in the past year, and the apartment was still sparsely decorated, painted in a cream that was largely flaking, the furniture mostly black and modern. His young lord would rather die before admitting that he missed the older days, and he didn't know if that fact appealed to him more out of the fact that it was utterly pathetic, or if he was truly losing his edge in his old age.

"Tea?" the young man smirked a little, setting down a cup in front of him.

The porcelain was chipped and the tea was of an inferior quality.

He sipped it anyway.

"Thank you, young master."

He snorted, looking disgusted as he curled up on the black chaise, looking for a moment like the young earl he'd always adored.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Ah, but you'd always be my young master, no matter how many years have passed."

"Nothing stays the same forever, Sebastian. Haven't you lived long enough to notice that one small fact? You can drop the nice and polite act too, by the way. You're not my butler anymore so stop pretending you're doing this out of your prized aesthetics."

"If I may say so, such vitriol at the very start of our meeting isn't very becoming."

"What are you doing here?"

"It's your birthday. Aren't you accustomed to finding me on your doorstep every year on this day?"

"Yes, and every year my birthday wish is for you to disappear. I can only keep hoping, right?

"Oh, you wound me so easily with these harsh words, young master."

He got a glare for his efforts.

Ciel Phantomhive stood and stretched, the knitted shirt riding up and exposing the slenderness of his waist. When Ciel had answered the door, he had noticed how his collarbones had jutted out, the shirt hanging loose on him and making him appear waif-like, but nothing had really prepared him for being able to see the faint outline of his ribs as his young master began to turn and walk away, his hands running through his hair to tie it in a loose ponytail.

"I'm not kidding, Sebastian. Don't call me that anymore. I'm done with my old life, with the Phantomhives, with the Queen, with everything. I'm no longer who I used to be."

"I know that."

He just wanted -

"You can find your own way out."

"Happy birthday…Ciel."

Ashes. The words tasted of them.


END CHAPTER