So I am back to being an active author in the Kuroshitsuji fandom, yeah? I took a little break to explore the realities of other anime fandoms, but Black Butler is calling me back to write some more angst. This time in the canon world (for once, right?)
This little thing takes place after Ciel becomes a demon. Ciel and Sebastian are currently residing in the Phantomhive Manor (they never jumped into hell together, like in the end of Season II.) I guess this is in a semi-canon universe then…? I guess I really can't wrench myself from the grasp of those AU fics. Ah well, some habits die hard.
Enjoy this oneshot, and leave me feedback if you can find the time! I'd appreciate it. Heck, I already appreciate you for clicking on this story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler nor am I affiliated with it in any way, shape, or form. All of it belongs to Yana Toboso
Warnings: Use of damn/goddamn/hell. References to heaven/hell, but not in a religious way as much as a metaphorical way. Extreme angst.
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
~William Blake
It's been eternity and a day since he's felt human.
Ciel Phantomhive can't help but feel empty and sore, like part of him has been torn away and will never fully come back. He's alive, he should be grateful, but he finds himself wishing that he was long gone. Long dead, long perished.
Because as alive as he is, he's hollow. He can hear his heartbeats bursting with energy inside his ribcage, but it's nothing to him. There really is nothing left inside of him, because he's alive and dead at the same time and there isn't a thing in the world that can change that.
After that stupid Hannah Anafeloz makes him a demon, as per that stupid Alois' last wish, his butler is angry. Of course, he doesn't show it. Sebastian Michaelis keeps up his sweet talk and fake smiles, lathering on layers of politeness and fake kindness when he speaks to his young master. And Ciel hates it, because he knows it's all fake. He much prefers the demon butler with the sardonic smiles and embedded innuendos- the one who irks him and confuses him and makes sure he doesn't think straight. The one who drops hints and reels them back in, and lets Ciel's mind do a tango of sorts as he attempts to wrap his mind around him.
This new butler is as dead as him.
Sebastian resents him, that much of his situation Ciel can deduce on his own. But Sebastian must really resent him if his quality of service, that service his so prided himself on in the old days, is deteriorating.
He asks for a cup of Earl Grey on a misty morning in June. Ciel has nothing to do, to be quite honest, but he would like to think deeply for a while. And he loves to ruminate upon a cup of his favorite tea, and maybe a sweet or savory biscuit or two.
He remembers the day Sebastian first made him tea. The tea was a weak blend that Ciel immediately detested, he remembers spitting it out with no grace whatsoever, and demanding a second cup. He remembers spilling the cup all over the butler's pristine white gloves in response, watching as the untarnished silk is blemished by the steaming hot drink.
He remembers that day as Sebastian enters his study with the tea. It's in a wedgwood cup, complete with an ornate and lovely saucer, and Sebastian sets the drink gently on Ciel's desk, asking if the young master requires anything else.
He shakes his head in response, picking up the teacup along with the saucer and raising it to his lips, letting the scent of the tea percolate all of his senses. He breathes out, relishing the delicious aroma of the tea, a hint of orange within a full bodied black delight. He raises the cup to his full pink lips and sips it gently…
Only to frown as the liquid disappears down his throat.
It's weak.
He glances up at Sebastian, who seems to be doing everything in his power to look away. This surprises Ciel. Normally, even when Sebastian is purposefully doing something that will aggravate the young master, he maintains a consistent eye contact. He never looks away. Looking away is accepting defeat, and the demon never relinquishes power to his subordinate.
And in reality, isn't that what Ciel is now? A subordinate of the devil?
But he is looking away now, and Ciel knows he's doing it on purpose. He's waiting for Ciel to remark on the poor quality of his tea and ask for a new one. But he's ashamed- ashamed that he has done such a petty and insolent thing, when he has been serving the young master for four long years. He's done something small and insignificant, yet it marks something very important in the timeline of Ciel and Sebastian existence together.
Sebastian is unhappy. He resists.
He does not like this eternity time has made for them together.
So Ciel keeps quiet and stomachs that nasty concoction, his aristocratic taste buds cringing with every sip of his weak tea. He finishes every last sip of the drink as if it was a normal cup, and sets the drained dish on his desk with a sigh. He gestures to get Sebastian's attention, who looks surprised and upset when he sees the young master has not asked for another cup. He drank the mistake. He took it and ignored it.
And that action wasn't human of him. Not human at all. He's become one with his newfound demonic nature, and it hurts to admit it but it's true.
He's gone.
Ciel spends the next few months in a sort of blind solitude. Nothing makes him happy anymore, not a single compulsive game can bring back the feelings of humanity that have been torn from him. That humanity was the thread that covered his flimsy body, he is now nude and exposed to the world. He thinks of suicide, several times actually, but demons cannot relinquish their lives. He will be reborn again, as this devilish illusion, and the last thing he needs is to live again. He does not need to be reborn only to realize that he can still live nothing.
Besides, being reborn would also mean giving away Sebastian.
It's been 3 months or so, and Ciel finds himself disgusted when he cannot take pleasure from the sweet treats and British delicacies he so loved to consume. He takes a bite out of a scone at breakfast and visibly cringes at the displeasurable taste that washes over his tongue. He nearly spits it out, but stubbornly finishes it, as if eating that distasteful scone will bring back his appetite. But it won't.
Because as a demon, he has no need to eat. This disgusts him even more than the flavor of that blasted scone. Eating, hunger, all things so purely HUMAN, all things that he can never experience again. Now his demon stomach churns when faced with that 'human food', but he can't consume a single soul. Because how inhuman would that be?
He also finds that Sebastian's work quality is steadily deteriorating. The sheets are no longer crisply folded after Ciel is roused in the morning. His tie is crooked and his hair is disheveled. The laces on his shoes are twisted and mangled. His eye patch is tilted right a fraction more than it should be. There are so many imperfections in Sebastian's work, but he is dead to the world as well, and seems loath to go back to the way he used to be.
Ciel finds himself hurt by this reality. Sebastian seems to be going out of his way to displease Ciel, who never seems to react. But his heart throbs with pain, the pain of knowing that his eternal servant no longer cares for him.
But did Sebastian ever care in the first place?
No, he did not. Sebastian was a beast. He had no feelings to speak of in the first place, being a demon from the start. He never cared for Ciel, he simply yearned for a meal. He needed something to consume that was fragile, delicate and saturated with the flavors of sorrow and yearning. What better way to satisfy his ravaging stomach than to consume the soul of the broken Phantomhive heir?
And he certainly played the part of a caring butler well. He put on an act that was so convincing, even Ciel, one who could never stomach lies, lied to himself. He believed that Sebastian cared for his well being. He believed it so fervently, his beliefs manifested themselves as reality in the cruel world. And he believed it till the very end.
But the end wasn't the end after all. Ciel had hoped it would be the end, for then he could rip off this burning facade and see his butler in the light that revealed his true nature. For, as long as he was alive, he would believe that Sebastian Michaelis, a fiend of hell, loved him.
He still wants to believe it. But he is no longer alive, is he?
Today, Ciel is eating a strawberry shortcake. The cake is overbearingly sweet, but Ciel has grown blind to it's obnoxious taste. His stomach can't help but turn, but he makes a pledge to himself to finish every last bite of the disgustingly sweet cake. It's all he can do now, set these small and meaningless goals for himself. But when he fulfills them, he does not feel the accomplishment that he wants.
As a demon, he has no goals.
Ciel remembers when he used to have goals. In his past life, goals were all that mattered to him. It was the noble goal of avenging his murdered parents that led him to make the contract with Sebastian. He met goals left and right to appease Queen Victoria. His goals drove him to accomplish so much in his small lifetime.
Perhaps if he hadn't had so many goals, he wouldn't have met Sebastian. He would have been dead now, and wouldn't have to deal with the empty shell of a butler that he wanted so desperately to love, like he had months ago...
That would have been preferable to this.
But having no goals...?
That is a concept that is not human at all.
So Ciel continues with his tasks, trying to give himself that pitiful illusion of any humanity left within him.
It's really all he can do.
A year later, he snaps. He should be fifteen by now, but his body is as small as it was two years ago. He snaps because he can't take this anymore. He can't take this falsehood of a life, and it hurts to even think about it. He wants to die, he wants so badly to be freed from these bonds they call 'life.' Nowadays, it hurts to live, and he feels the pain of his existence even frequently.
He breaks down, falls off his office chair and hits the ground. He doesn't feel the sting of the impact. Demons don't hurt. Now he's crying, tears are slipping down his pale face, and what frustrates him most is that he feels no emotion. He's not sad at all, not sad, just broken, but can demons break at all? Does he have to add one more emotion he will never feel to his ever expanding list? He doesn't know why the tears are coming if he isn't sad, but he lets them fall like a refreshing rain over his face. He doesn't bother to wipe them, he watches them puddle forlornly at his knees. They're like a solemn reminder of the real tears, the genuine tears he used to shed when his parents crossed the boundary of the living into the realm of the dead.
Somehow, when looking up to the skies, pleading to the heavens to take him from this hell on earth, he catches a glimpse of Sebastian outside his study, watching him with the most mournful expression on his face. Ciel is shocked to see him show anything on that perfect face of his.
He is even more shocked when Sebastian steps inside the study and kneels down beside him.
And the shock grows tenfold when Ciel notices tears that match his dropping from his butler's blood red eyes.
"Se-Sebastian?" He chokes out weakly, pathetically. His voice sounds gravelly and harsh, and it trembles from the blatant lack of use over the last few years. He looks into Sebastian's eyes, Sebastian looks into his, and they stare. Sebastian is challenging him to say something else, challenging him to say anything at all, but Ciel will not give in, he will not give power to the devil, he is a devil too and he can make his own decisions like any other devil would, any other devil that couldn't feel the pain of coveting what it once had…
"W-what's happened t-t-to us?" He finally sobs, his voice cracking. Ciel's frail body shakes with a new wave of sorrow, sorrow he fails to feel. He wants to reach out and cling to Sebastian like he did in the days when Sebastian served him like a faithful dog, wants to use the taller as a life vest. Because he's stranded in an ocean of feeling that won't merge with him, and maybe if he pulls himself out, he can feel again.
Sebastian fails to respond, but his own tears continue to waterfall down his face.
"Why do I feel like this? Why can't I feel anymore? Sebastian, why can't I feel mad, angry, sad, upset, jubilant?" Ciel's voice is growing stronger and louder, the tears have not stopped, but his voice is carrying throughout the room. He is shouting now, shouting as loud as he can, wailing his plight to the heavens, no, to the horrible depths of hell that hold his emotionless soul.
"SEBASTIAN MICHAELIS, WHY CAN'T I LOVE YOU ANYMORE?" He says it, it's all out now. Every secret he's withheld in his short life is out in the open, spilling from parted lips, ringing in the cool air, and he's still not at peace with admitting them. Because he loves his butler, he loved him then and loves him now, and it might not even be a romantic kind of love, but it's there and it's broken and he can't stand it anymore. It's a dead kind of love, a passion and lust that he ceases to feel because he's a goddamn demon who doesn't seem to feel a thing but regret.
And Sebastian is wrapping his arms around him, he's warm for such a cold being, and his face is buried in Ciel's silky locks. And Ciel can feel the sobs that wreck Sebastian's body and break his nonexistent soul in two as the two of them sit like pitiful humans on the floor, sobbing their unfeeling hearts out.
"We can get better, young master…" Sebastian trails off. It hurts Ciel, no, it doesn't, he can't feel anymore, but it would hurt him to see Sebastian in such a state. His hair is mussed and his eyes are redder than usual, he's hiccuping and the tears won't stop streaming down his face. And Ciel is still crying too, but he tries to offer Sebastian a heartfelt smile.
Because it's been eternity and a day since he's felt anything, it's been more since Sebastian's felt anything, and all they want to do is get better together.
The truth has been brought to light, Ciel thinks, as the sobs quiet down. They're still in each others arms, still breathing each other's demonic scent, because it's been so long that they've forgotten what their relationship used to be like. Because now that feeling is gone, they are gone. Their past lives are gone, gone, gone.
But they will come back, together. They CAN come back, together. Together, together, together. Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis. They can connect again in this miserable eternity that was concocted for them, and they can thrive. Their eternity will continue it's mundane spin, but they can find a way to accept that this will be their reality. It will take some time. It will take a long time, now that Ciel thinks about it. It will take a while.
It will take a while, but they will feel again.
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
~William Blake
AN: I'm pretty proud yet embarrassed of how that came out. I felt like I took Sebastian out of character. But that can't be helped, right? I'm a bad author, I know.
Please tell me how you felt about that! Leave me a review or PM me with suggestions. And if you enjoyed this fic, check out my profile. I've written more stuff, and this is my third Sebastian/Ciel oneshot.
And most of all, thanks for reading! You have no idea how much it means to me when someone sees my story and even bothers to click on it. I'm glad you've given me a chance, if anything at all.