Author's Note: Once again, something I wrote forever ago and never uploaded. I do not own Kuroshitsuji: only my OCs and storyline. Let me know what you think, dear readers.

The young child threw herself to the bodies that lay on carpeted floor, sobs escaping the cherry red lips and small, pale hands clutching at the sewn material, now nearly burnt beyond recognition. All around her, flames licked at the wooden structure and devoured all it found, leaving behind nothing but smoldering ashes. Despite receiving no response from her parents, the young girl pulled desperately, trying to get the couple to join her in fleeing the burning home.

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Alas, it was no use yet the girl failed to realize the fate that had befallen the Earl and his wife. She tried again and again, until an ember landed on the slim fingers and caused the child to draw back with a feeble whimper. The nightgown that spread on the floor encircled her, once a beautiful azure, now soiled to a near black. Smoke made the child blink and rub a sooty arm across her pale sapphire eyes. Coughing burned her lungs, but she shook her head and resumed her previous mission.

"Please, wake up! Don't leave me!"

There was a loud crash, and off in the distance the child could have sworn that she heard the quiet roaring of a machine. Eventually, the heat and smoke grew to be too much. With a final cry, the girl gave one last tug on the clothing, giving up when the hand she clasped stayed cold despite the hellish heat around her.

"I'm going to go outside, mommy." She struggled to hold back the tears that lingered in the corners of her eyes. "I'll wait for you."

Weeping, the child raced off, leaving behind the lifeless bodies of her parents. Once she left, they ignited with a burst of flames, as though erasing the last traces of the precious treasures, now that the child had left. From the shadows, a lone figure watched the small child's retreating back and frowned with disapproval. Another person emerged from a burnt doorway, a manic grin spreading across their face.

"I bet she would look lovely in red, don't you agree?" His companion gave no response. The edges of the grin tipped downwards as its owner whined.

"Always so standoffish, aren't you?" The speaker clasped his hands together and twirled around in excitement. "You just fire me right up!" While he continued dancing with glee, the other gave a sigh and used the garden sheers in hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"Grell Sutcliffe, I do not want to work overtime. Finish your job immediately." The redhead paused, an ebony gloved finger poised on the tip of his chin.

"That brat is the only one left, right," He replied, a twinkle appearing in the luminescent eyes. "We already got her parents." A book was pulled from the Reaper's pocket, and the pages fluttered as he flipped through it absentmindedly. Once finding a specific page, he read out the passage loud enough for the other Reaper to hear.

"John and Maria Brynhild; died of third-degree burns and smoke inhalation on the night of May twenty-first, 1875." With a soft thud, the book was slammed shut. A soft voice jerked the duo from their thoughts.

"Mommy? Daddy?"

Grell spun on his boot heel, chainsaw raised reflexively in defense. William jumped as well, the point of the sheers coming alarmingly close to his eye. There stood the six year-old, hugging a tattered brown bear to her chest tightly. One of the ears was badly burnt and it looked as though it had been pulled out from the clutches of an angered feline. She stared at them hopefully, eyes alight with curiosity.

"Have you seen my parents?" William shook his head and the light faded from the child's eyes. Grell shot his partner a look. Then he shrugged and started fiddling with the steel weapon at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the raven-haired Reaper shaking his head again. Grell frowned, now thoroughly confused. Then William turned his head and mouthed a few words to the diva.

'Not on the list'.

Grell stared then whipped out the book, tearing through the pages at an astonishing speed. He abruptly stopped, lime eyes locked on the space below the parent Brynhilds' names.

The empty space below their names.

Grell couldn't believe it. How could a person's name be removed? He knew that the text had been there only moments before, for he had seen it when looking up the others. The Reaper switched his gaze to the girl, then to William, and then back to the book. The motion was repeated twice more before he lost it.

"HOW THE HELL DID THAT BRAT DO THAT?!" Grell charged up to the two and thrust the book into his partner's face. "Look, it's gone! Gone!" Yelling, he threw the book onto the ground and stomped his booted foot into the ground angrily. The young girl let out a gasp and jumped back, fear showing in the whites of her eyes. A gloved hand reached out and snatched the thin arm, yanking her forward harshly. She let out a high-pitched shriek of terror and struggled to escape the iron grip. Her azure eyes widened even further when they met Grell's own glare.

"Explain it," he seethed, eyes flashing with fury. "No human can get their name taken off the list. Not one. So why you?" The tiny frame trembled but didn't answer. William placed a hand on the angry Reaper's shoulder and pulled him back, away from the girl.

"Calm yourself, Grell. That child is not to blame," he stated. "Her name was most likely removed by one of the higher-ups." Grell shook his head from side to side, crimson hair whipping back and forth with the movement. William clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"She is no longer our responsibility. Let us leave this matter to the human police." With that, the tense Reaper dragged his partner away, giving the child last glance. She stared after them, confusion written all over the petite face. William watched her for a moment more, briefly wondering about the situation, then decided that it was of no use and stalked away, the grumbling Reaper following him.

Little did he know, that was not to be the last he saw of her.

In fact, it was only the beginning of things to come.