Told you I'd post this soon. I was in the writing mood, and I've had this for a while now after I got my guitar. I know that doesn't make sense but just roll with it XD. I don't think I've seen anyone do this yet and I thought I would. I find the idea an excellent concept for someone like Ragna : ). Could be wrong that someone already did this, but meh. Enjoy!
Ragna the Bloodedge, the most wanted man on the planet, has taken on an army of NOL guards single-handedly without even flinching; destroyed military bases without so much as breaking a sweat; he even clobbered the leader of the Six Heroes himself. Just hearing his name struck fear into the hearts of many and made the NOL piss their pants when they hear him coming. Understandable, given he's slaughtered branches worth of soldiers without effort. Is there anything he can't do? Why yes there is. Ragna, for all his outstanding feats, has one slight weakness. A weakness that had become fatal since about...call it four days ago. One that just about anyone who knew him could figure out the moment he took up a fork. Well…tried to anyway.
Fine dining.
In the Alucard castle's main dining hall, Valkenhayn instructed Ragna in the arts of fine dining for about two hours now. Conducting a lesson of drinking tea, sitting down, preparing the table, and using his utensils to the best of his ability. When it came to class, next to his mistress, Valkenhayn was second to none. He took pride in his well-mannered personality and outlook and did his best to share that knowledge with Ragna. One honed throughout the ages of his longevity.
This boy was a lost cause...
Valkenhayn shook his head to the world-class criminal attempting to pick up his fork with his right hand. Moreover, he held the utensil at its end, covering his fingers in food, making a total mess. The old butler could only sigh—while laughing on the inside of course—to Ragna the Bloodedge learning to dine like a proper human being. Not knowing how to use a cell phone was one thing, but proper table manners? In hindsight, Valkenhayn should've seen that coming a mile away. Ragna's dinners usually ended up with him bolting out a restaurant being chased by the owners with his cat companion after all. Of course, he couldn't give him too much crap since his reason for coming to him is rather noble.
According to Ragna, the boy had asked Rachel to go, as he said in his own vulgar, brutish language, "hit up a restaurant", and much to his dismay, Rachel agreed. While Valkenhayn didn't have time to ask about it from Rachel, who disappeared somewhere into the castle, he heard the story from a very…VERY sweaty Ragna who almost begged for help in the arts of etiquette. While it showed a bit of maturity, he would go so far to please his mistress. It irked him all the same. After that Christmas Santa fiasco he heard from Rachel, the two had been spending more time together with the boy blushing almost constantly in her presence. Valkenhayn had an inkling of what was going on, but he didn't interfere. His mistress was happy, and while it took everything he had not to grab the Grim Reaper by his throat and rip out his vocal chords, Valkenhayn accepted it. If he couldn't prevent it, he might as well stop Ragna from embarrassing his mistress.
Ragna wanted to surprise Rachel with his skills at the table and set up a special time where Rachel would leave her home to go on short strolls—which she had been going on a lot lately. Whatever the case was with that, it gave them more opportunities to practice and god did he need it. He only had about forty-five minutes remaining, so he had to make this count or else. Their date—and just saying that made the old butler shiver—was in two days. If he couldn't mold Ragna into a…somewhat sensible gentlemen by tonight, then he did not deserve his place as Rachel's butler. Come hell or high water; he will succeed! Even if his chances seem low… Really…low. The boy could barely drink a cup of tea without burning his tongue; he nearly cut the boy's pinky off when he tried to follow the stereotype of raising it when partaking in tea. Where ever that ridiculous notion came from, he couldn't fathom why it is people thought to be high class, one needed to extend a finger.
"Shit! Stupid knife and fork—ow!" Ragna hissed when a ruler smacked his hand, leaving a sting. "Damn it old man! What the hell was that for!?"
"Watch your vulgar tone around the table."
Honestly, for Valkenhayn, this may be the best part of this job.
"Sorry, sorry…" Ragna sighed in defeat, looking at the plate of food. "Come on...! Stupid knife and fork..."
"It is not as difficult as you might think. I know you are used to grabbing food by your hand like a barbaric animal, but, please, try to calm down."
"I don't need your smart mouth right now," the criminal growled, his brow twitching with a tick mark. After a deep breath, Ragna picked up his knife and fork and followed Valkenhayn's exact instruction, doing his best not to omit anything. The Reapers hands were clammy; it felt as if the utensils were going to slip out of his hands. Even still, he still managed to get the form Valkenhayn wanted, but only after several tries and a little posture fixture courtesy of Valkenhayn.
God, it was so uncomfortable. His shoulders were squared, and his arms were stiff. He couldn't relax at all; when he tried, he got a smack on the hand which he found Valkenhayn enjoying. Damn this old man…! Ragna wanted to jump out of this chair and beat the old butler's ass up and down the castle, but that wouldn't get him anywhere. For now, he needed to suck it up and endure the humiliation that the butler enjoyed. One thing he prayed is that Kagura never found out about this. If he did... May god help him. He'd post him all over the internet and Ragna would never hear the end of it. He could see it now. Instead of swords, people would fight him with knives and forks. Calling them his greatest fear.
The criminal took a deep breath and focused solely on the food presented before him, gently sinking his fork into the juicy meat to cut with the utmost precision.
Come on…! Come on! For Rachel!
That thought kept it going—it pushed him. He did this for her. To prove that he wasn't just some damn mongrel, but a man who could sit at a table with her and have some dinner without making a fool of himself and her. Just thinking about what she would say if they went out with his limited knowledge of table etiquette shook him to his core.
You truly are nothing but a mongrel, Ragna. No, mongrel is a bit too kind. Something even lower than that... Barely even a form of life. Though, I really should have seen this coming. It's not like you had a chance in the first place.
Just thinking about that made his blood boil as determination filled him and fire could be—quite literally speaking—seen in his eyes and around his body. Valkenhayn actually needed to take a step back to avoid getting burned. Ragna encouraged himself while slicing the piece of meat. He'll do this or die trying damn it! He even had a place reserved for them. While Ragna had no problem using that old Grim Reaper charm and his wonderful words and ways of persuasion (his sword) to get what he wanted, Ragna needed their night to be perfect. Not one single hitch. Having the NOL come busting through the doors because he held up the staff would really put a damper on things. Thumbs up for Kagura who actually managed to get him a placement.
Once the sound of the knife scraping against the plate was heard, Ragna internally cheered that his first task had been completed. But he couldn't let it go to his head. He still had to pick it up and eat the damn thing. Ragna took a deep breath, closed his eyes with a prayer, and slowly picked the food up. His heart beat in his ears while he brought the food to his mouth, taking it in no more than an inch above the small piece of meat and chewed it carefully, being wary not to move his mouth too much, and swallowed it inaudibly. That had to be the most heart throbbing experience he had ever gone through at the dinner table.
Valkenhayn simply watched the man eat, giving him a sharp glare anytime he tried to…wipe his mouth with his hands—ugh! The very thought made the man shudder. Through all his trouble, Ragna finally managed to finish his plate of food, and right when he was about to throw the utensils down and sighed like he usually did, a glare from Valkenhayn reminded him of proper table etiquette. The criminal placed his knife and fork parallel on the empty plate then dabbed his mouth with his napkin and set it down.
Ragna looked up at Valkenhayn then, awaiting his final results. He thought finding out a bomb was implanted into his body or being stuck on a boat with some ghost was some scary shit—thankfully that last one was just a dream—but they paled in comparison to the fear that crept into his body and seeped from every pore in his body. Damn it old man, stop with the theatrics and just tell me how I did! Is what he would LOVE to say, but he couldn't. Damn, this proper etiquette class crap was more challenging than he first assumed.
Valkenhayn observed the clammy faced criminal in all his nervous glory. He couldn't help but smile however with a bit of pride in the young lad. He was truly concerned about his little date with his mistress. The old butler had been acquainted with Ragna for quite some time—and while a barbaric insect who had no place even breathing the same air as his master—he did have his moments of fortitude and mettle. Most notably when he saved her from Terumi's clutches and beat him to near death. Though he never showed it, Valkenhayn was eternally grateful. But, enough keeping the boy on the ropes. It is time to give him the results of his examination, flaws and all.
"Out of a hundred…"
Ragna gulped then, feeling time halt, his voice light.
"Out of a hundred…?"
Valkenhayn's straightened lips curled into a curt smile.
"I would give you a seventy-five…at the most."
"And, uh…that's good?" Ragna said with a bit of a crack in his voice. He honestly couldn't tell what good meant to these people.
"Well, for you, it isn't half bad. While you did mess up and take nearly half an hour to finish a simple dish, you have shown improvement from the last time we practiced. Yesterday you scored a ten, so to score a seventy-five is a remarkable achievement. At least this time you managed to keep the food off the floor." Valkenhayn knew why too. When he instructed Ragna to leave, the boy lingered and tried to hide while attempting to use his knife and fork the proper way. Determination was one of his more common attributes. Even Valkenhayn could attest to that.
"You know… I feel like your dissing me more than your praising me…" Ragna grumbled. He then rose and pushed the chair back in in the form Valkenhayn demonstrated yesterday. The criminal wiped the sweat that accumulated off his brow, feeling a sense of satisfaction in his hard day's work. That damn Rabbit makes this crap look so easy, but there was way more to it than he imagined. Ragna sighed then looked to Valkenhayn, sharing a staring contest with him for a moment before he cleared his throat to speak. It's something he's been meaning to say since they began, and albeit embarrassing to say this to HIM of all people, it'd leave a bad taste in the criminals mouth if he left this unsaid.
"Hey, uh, listen…" Ragna ducked his head and roughly itched the back of his scalp. "Thanks for…for everything. I, um, couldn't have done this without you. I, uh... I mean it."
Valkenhayn's eyes stretched a centimeter, but not enough for Ragna to notice. Did Ragna just thank him? Ragna the Bloodedge—the most feared criminal the world has ever seen—offer up gratitude? Sincere at that? Hm. Maybe he wasn't the immature brat who he scuffled with back in Kagutsuchi all those months ago. It seems he managed to scrape together some level of class in his travels. While he could tease him for it, the old butler merely bowed to him.
"The pleasure was all mine," he picked himself back up and checked his pocket watch to see they had less than five minutes before Rachel returned from her daily walk. "I believe it is time you leave. I will summon you here once more to provide you with the clothes you requested and finalize our lesson." A portal appeared beside Ragna then. "Now, off you go. Hm?" Valkenhayn looked down to find his hand stretched out to shake and a smiling grace the boys usually grumpy features.
"Seriously, Valkenhayn. I owe you one." Valkenhayn simply shook his head and nodded before watching the man walk through the portal he provided for the criminal. He stood there, stunned, staring at the spot Ragna disappeared from. Did he just call him by his name? Either his old ears were deceiving, or his brain was developing memory loss, the boy had never called him by his name before. Not even once.
The sound of the large door opening in the main hall roused the old man from his thoughts; he strode to the entrance to meet his master. He could think about Ragna calling him by his name some other time. Once Valkenhayn stood before his mistress, he bowed and greeted her with a 'welcome home, Madam' like he always did. As perceptive as she always was, she could tell something didn't sit right with the old man.
"Valkenhayn, did something transpire in my absence?"
"Nothing at all," Valkenhayn answered as if that's all he needed to say.
"I see. Very well. I do hope my tea is prepared? I am quite parched after my long walk." Rachel didn't feel the need to dig him for information. It didn't seem serious, so she let it be.
"Yeah! We went all over to find the princess a new lip, but then she—blah!" Gii's sentence went unfinished as the vampire whacked the bat with her umbrella as the two flew through the air and went splat on her floor.
"Princess? Is something the matter?"
"…Valkenhayn. I have a favor to ask of you," Valkenhayn quirked a brow when he noticed the almost nervous and unsure tone his master took and the pink that suffused her pale cheeks in color. Rachel cleared her throat a few times before asking, "Ragna's favorite color is red, correct?"
"Favorite color? I am not sure why—"
"It is important, so please answer me!" Rachel abruptly shouted, stunning Valkenhayn with her outburst.
"I-I believe so. I do recall the boy saying he liked red and black."
"Red and black… Good." Was all the vampire said before walking off, leaving a confused butler with her unconscious familiars.
"What has gotten into her?" Valkenhayn muttered aloud but decided just to scoop up her familiars, head to the kitchen and prepare her tea. The old man figured it best to just stay out of this one. There are some things about his master even he did not understand.
Rachel's little fluster will be explained in the next one-shot : ). Hope you all enjoyed this and thoughts, reviews and such would be great. See ya!
