I do not own, or claim to own, the anime "Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler" or any of the characters created for that series. I do own my original characters and storylines, however. This disclaimer will not be posted on subsequent chapters, as it's been made clear now.
Chapter One:
"Please ensure you read the assigned readings before next class – you wouldn't want to find yourselves at a disadvantage."
A slight smirk on his lips, he is as he had always been. His tall, slim frame clad in a well-fitted pair of slacks, a dress shirt, and a vest, he leaves the collar open. It's fashionable to do so, these days. His black hair is in a similar style to what it was over a hundred years ago, not that anyone would notice. He took care to stay out of the spotlight, back then.
The year is 2011, and he's a professional scholar - a professor at a prestigious University in the United States of America. Not like anyone finds his British accent odd – in fact, the female students often use it as an incentive to come to class. He doesn't mind this, because he still has no feelings for anyone. He hasn't been tied to anyone for over a hundred years now.
"Professor Michaelis?" Two giggling female students approach him, as they seem to do every class. Just because he teaches over 1000 students… do they think he doesn't recognize them?
"Amanda, and… Marie. What can I do for you?" He's as charming as ever, his smile perfect, although there's nothing behind it. His eyes are a bit toned down, however… Brown is a far more acceptable colour these days. Though, if you looked closely enough, you would see a hint of red near the pupil.
The girls seem to be flattered at the fact that he's remembered their names, and they fidget a little before they continue to speak.
"Well, we were wondering if it would be suitable to write our term papers on the Victorian Ages in Britain? I know it isn't exactly stated on the outline that –"
"That sounds fine." He interjects quickly, neatly. He has a line full of students that he has to talk to before the next ten minutes are up… The room has been booked for another lecture. His class still, though an introductory course. It wouldn't do to have his second year students hanging around. His pocket watch – the same one he wore while butlering for the Phantomhive estate – ticks away almost impatiently in his pocket. "I don't see a problem with writing on the general religious beliefs of the Victorian era… In fact, I'd be interested in reading it." He flashes his patented smile, reducing the two girls to a babbling, appreciative mess as they mosey off.
The next students come up with the same types of self-answering questions. Though he tires quickly of repeating himself, he does enjoy his job; it helps pass the time that he would otherwise spend consuming useless souls. After he gets through the line of waiting students, he glances up to see the lines of first years filing in. It's the first day of the new semester, and he smiles charmingly at each of the young men and women that thread through the rows, trying to find a seat. As soon as they all settle, all six-hundred-and-fifty of them, he starts his lecture.
"Good morning, everyone. My name is Dr. Sebastian Michaelis." He smiles as he walks, making good use of the newfangled technology that's been afforded to him in the form of a microphone that clips onto his shirt collar. Ingenious. "Whatever you'd like to call me is fine; Dr. Michaelis, Dr. Sebastian, Professor Michaelis… It makes no difference to me. All I ask of students in my classes is respect, and although I would like to assume that all of you will give it to me, I know that this is, in fact, untrue. I do not tell lies, and I deal with facts. Statistics are proven and steadfast, and it's proven that over 80 percent of you will lie to me at some point or another."
He heaves an almost theatrical sigh before continuing. "That, however, makes no difference to me. You get what you give with me, and believe me when I say that I give praise and good grades only where they are due. That being said, as long as you all pay attention in lecture – provided you attend at all – and do the readings I assign, I'm sure you'll be just fine in this class.
"The subject material we'll be covering is on Victorian Age England, from the early seventeenth century, to the end of the nineteenth. This happens to be one of my favourite time periods to study, and I hope that you'll all enjoy it with me. We'll have quite a bit of fun together, you and I."
Another charming smile, and he stops pacing in front of the class. Skimming the faces, he thinks he sees someone he recognizes, but he can't be sure. Moving on.
"As this is the first day, and we're just getting to know each other, I'd welcome those of you who have questions or concerns to come and see me down at the podium. Other than that, everyone please enjoy your days, and check the course website for content that I will upload on a daily basis. Class dismissed."
Having finished his customary introduction speech – throughout which, the class had been dead silent – he turns the microphone off, and takes his spot behind the podium at the front of the lecture hall. Just as he suspected, a small group of no more than two dozen students filter down and line up to speak with him. He entertains them with ease, and the lineup moves quickly, all the way down to the last one, a young man who looks like he can't be older than 18. He's almost thankful that the other students are gone, when this one shows up, because his mask slips for a split second. He regains his perfect composure after a moment, though.
"What can I do for you, Mr…?" He smiles, watching the boy. There's something in those eyes that makes him uncomfortable… Deep and blue.
"Cilian." The boy speaks in a soft, quiet voice, almost as if he can't be bothered to be louder. "That's my name."
"Cilian. Lovely name." Indeed… A lovely name. A name too close to his old master's for comfort. "So, what did you need?"
"I'm not sure this class is the type of one I'm looking for… I just don't know if it'll interest me. Would you be able to tell me a little more about it before I decide?"
The prospect of losing this student, for some reason, causes some type of arrhythmia in his chest. He blinks, able to mask it. "Oh, I think you'll find it interesting. But I'd be happy to discuss it with you in more detail… I have time now, since class is over, or we can meet in my office hours, if you have another class to get to." He opens the pocket watch on reflex, having fished it out of his pant pocket.
"No, I'm done for the day."
"Then why don't we grab a coffee?" He doesn't know why he's being so accommodating for this boy… it's starting to confuse him. He doesn't get confused. The boy seems unfazed, however, something that once again seems all too familiar. He shrugs.
"That's fine." His voice is still dull and rather expressionless, and he starts toward the door as soon as he finishes speaking. The professor follows, files tucked neatly under his arm.
