My friend asked me to write this for her and there aren't many stories about Joker and Beast so I thought I'd post it. It is a one-shot in Beast's POV about her life from her time on the streets and until her death at the Phantomhive mansion. Most of the characters in this are only from the Circus Arc in the Kuroshitsuji mangas, volume 6-8 I believe. But even if you haven't read this arc and are only curious, it shouldn't be that hard to follow.
Disclaimer: Yana Toboso is the rightful owner of these characters and series. No copyright infringement intended.
Enjoy!
Unrequited Love
The past was a foggy unwanted memory that slowly faded into black.
I could not remember my family. I did not know whether my parents simply couldn't afford to raise a daughter who lacked a limb or if they never wanted such a deformed child to begin with. I could not remember if I had siblings or cousins. I could not remember my earliest childhood. The farthest I could recall were fuzzy memories of sleeping in the cobblestone alleyways and snatching stale bread or stealing a piece of sausage.
My life had remained that way well into my teenage years. I would sleep where I could and drink and eat what I could find or manage to steal. Getting around tended to be difficult without my left leg, so my stomach did not get food as much as other grimy street rats.
I was always alone and alwaysignored. It was just how life was. Until I stumbled upon a boy who did not have his right leg, just as I lacked my left.
He had a mop of black hair that was fading into blonde and the loneliest brown eyes. My heart sympathized with him. Both of us having to live with an impairment that affected something as simple as walking. We stuck together for a while. Time was never marked; it could have been months or years. The essence of time held little meaning when every day was a struggle to survive.
Eventually, the pair of us met a group of people in the gutters. They each had something odd about themselves. Two of them, a boy and a girl, their bodies were stuck in their earlier teen years, never aging. One man was abnormally tall with broad shoulders and an intimidating air. There was also a small girl who had a gruesome patch of deformed skin where her left eye used to be. I discovered that the ugly burned scar was a result of her parents' abuse.
The last member of this odd group was a young man, who I guessed to be around my age. He was born without a right arm, just like my dark-haired companion and myself. He had bright shaggy orange hair that was vibrant even if it was covered in dirt and grease. His violet eyes held a life that I had never seen in any of the people on the streets before. He had a strong will to live and to help others live.
More unmarked time passed and our little group struggled greatly for shelter, drink or food. Most nights, we found ourselves laid out along the cold stone wall of a building, curled up with each other under a worn sheet to stay out of the common rain. Nobles and shop owners passed by us on a daily basis, hurrying by without a glance. We were shadows, slowly dying while the rest of the population went about their daily tasks.
Years could have passed without our knowledge until one wet, chilly day, an aristocrat stopped in front of us with an umbrella. He was an older man and had a gentle smile. The moment he held out his hand, I knew a better life was finally within my reach.
We were welcomed into the house of Baron Kelvin and never returned to the streets. Our stomachs were filled and our sleep was warm and comfortable. Life was now more carefree and I found myself slowly opening up to the other people the Baron had taken in.
We still lived with our disabilities but we were happier. I started to enjoy the outdoors more, even though I still couldn't walk around very well.
The orange-hair boy that I had grown to feel comfortable around decided to give us all names. He called himself Joker and my dark-haired companion was named Dagger. The two ageless children were named Peter and Wendy, the large man was called Jumbo and the young scarred girl was graced with the name Doll.
Joker gave me the name Beast, a lovely smile on his face the entire time. I bristled at the ridiculous name but soon I admitted to liking it and liking Joker, though never out loud.
During the trips outside, Dagger remained by my side, unable to walk as well. We watched the younger children dance and play, enjoying the warm fresh air. The springtime was my favourite. I loved to listen to the children giggle and the birds chirp. The gardens outside our home looked especially pretty just after the rain.
All of us became a family. The older looking after the younger. Joker played the perfect role as the loving father, always making sure everyone had a smile on their face. He encouraged Dagger to take part in the children's games, regardless of Dagger's protests about his inability to walk. Joker treated Doll like his little sister, praising her and constantly fretting over her well-being.
He also made an effort to start long conversations with me. This both excited and annoyed me. Joker's mere presence tended to bring a smile to my face. He just glowed with positive charm and happiness. But I always found myself blushing around him. This frustrated me, for I couldn't bring myself to tell him about my growing feelings.
I loved Joker. I loved his lopsided grin and bright violet eyes. I loved his wild fiery orange hair and easy chuckles. I loved his warm and caring personality and his need to help others.
Baron Kelvin introduced us to an interesting doctor, who we called Doc. The man was in a wheelchair and was very cheerful. He created limbs for us and I was finally able to walk for the first time. Dagger got a leg as well and Joker gained an arm. It was a good time.
This love I had found towards Joker, it grew as years passed and our family became the Noah's Arc Circus. I found myself falling for Joker even more as I watched him find the perfect acts for certain members of our new circus. Joker was naturally named the Ringmaster, having born leadership and an unending supply of smiles. Our family grew with more members joining our traveling circus.
Even with the increasing members, Joker kept our little street group as the lead acts with only one new member. It was a boy, who Joker named Snake, because of his oddly scaled skin and snake companions who became one of our close family members.
We lived happily and enjoyed putting on our acts for the crowds. Life was pleasant, my secret love never being revealed. But that love slowly grew painful. No matter how much I tried, I could not find the courage to tell Joker of my affections.
But what made my heart ache was the lack of affection or sign of from him. I knew deep in my heart that Joker never returned my feelings but time and time again he'd show me a soft smile no one else ever got to see and my heart was pinched once more. It hurt but I couldn't bare the thought of distancing myself from him and missing the chance to see his mouth stretch into a smile and his violet eyes alight with joy.
My love was poison and medicineall in one. It was a hopeless cycle of love and pain that never ceased.
While traveling through the towns around London, England, Joker picked up three new members. He was always one to lend out a welcomed hand.
The first was a strange man with dark slicked-back hair and ringed green eyes. Joker called him Suit and he join our trapeze act. Another two joined shortly after Suit, a young man and a young child. The man had dark black hair and red eyes, almost like my own crimson irises. He was called Black and joined Suit in the trapeze act. The other had ash-colored hair and an eye patch covering his other blue eye. Joker named him Smileand he was discovered to be good at almost all the acts.
I did not particularly like these new members but Joker was delighted to have them so I kept quiet, happy to see him happy. But as soon as these new people joined, our circus slowly started falling apart.
One evening, after a show, Joker announced that he was visiting the Baron, the man he referred to as father. He hadn't been to see Baron Kelvin in months and we had often discussed not needing the Baron's help anymore. I did not feel comfortable around the aristocrat anymore and I wished to get away from him. But here my love was going off to see him, his face holding a forced smile as he bid me goodbye.
That was the last smile I saw him give, a soft fake upturn of his lips that never reached his eyes. Joker never returned and I, along with my family, was slowly consumed by the Devil and his Master. Everything disappeared into flames, which painfully reminded me of my love, the man who was never able to love me back.
