A/N: To those who reviewed the last chapter: I love you. . . just so you know. Well, chapter two is ready to go. It is also in Sebastian's POV. Hope you guys enjoy it!
Warnings: none
Without consciously having made the decision to go there, I found myself in England; a place I rather detested. The times had undoubtedly changed, much more quickly than I had expected them to. In all my years, humans had remained fairly consistent. They often had an occasional innovative idea, which would inevitably change their miserable lives, but not until the information age did things change so drastically.
The industrial revolution came and went, in the blink of an eye. Suddenly, steam was replaced with petrol. Technology evolved, and with it; mankind devolved. Manual weapons gave way to automatic weapons. Hand grenades were replaced with missiles and atom bombs. The world became a battleground of segregation and hate. It was all merely an instant to me, and before I knew it, a century had gone by since the demise of my former master. I was facing the start of yet another horrid millennium. The Earth had become the devil's playground; full of more debauchery than ever before. One would surmise that a demon, such as myself, would revel in that fact. Alas, I found little pleasure in any of it.
There was a profound emptiness inside of me that no human soul could fill. Its source became all too clear to me about 123 years ago. It was Ciel. No human before him, nor any human after him could torment my soul the way he had. I had spent over a century haunted by his voice, dominated by his stare, and plagued by his final plea. Even there, near the Eastern shores of the Thames, I could hear him. . . calling out a name that no longer belonged to me.
My feet carried me along the shoreline, further and further East. It wasn't long before I realized I was only a few kilometres outside of London. I stopped dead, with the intention of turning back. I swore to myself, while I watched Ciel's ashes dance in the vibrant beams of sunlight all those years ago, that I would never return to London. It was a vile place. However, as I took my first steps West, the familiar smell of that wretched city came wafting through the air. A scent I hadn't smelled in many years, yet one I remembered vividly. I stopped, allowing myself to take it in.
As I did, an altogether different scent came drifting by. One that was not just familiar to me, but one that I had long since coveted. I assumed myself to be imagining it entirely, but I could not resist finding out for certain. So, I turned back towards London and set off, abandoning the tedious footwork in favour of flight.
In mere minutes, the scent grew tenfold. The sigil on my left hand began to tingle playfully. Soon, I was soaring over London, seeing for myself the things I had only seen in pictures over the course of the past century. None of it mattered one bit to me, my focus was set on one thing; the source of that scent.
As I began to descend towards the streets, I took the form of a raven. The people beneath me were no different here than anywhere else in the world. They paid no mind to me, just as I paid no mind to them. The scent that I had been following was growing stronger as I tracked it farther North. My heart began to race as the thrill of the chase struck me. It was close. . . so very close.
I was so delightfully confused. As I drew closer, it became clear that it was the same scent I thought it had been. However, there was absolutely no way that it could be what I thought it was. . . could it?
I came to a stop outside of the second level window of a flat in Shoreditch. Inside the flat, was utter chaos. Children running about, screaming their little lungs off at one another. An older woman, with her salt and pepper hair tied back in a haphazard bun, took a toy from one of the young girls.
"Honestly Violet, you are too old to be behaving this way! You are two years older than Maddy, let her play with the bloody toy! You can find something else to do!" the woman screamed, handing the toy to the younger girl, presumably Maddy. Meanwhile, Violet proceeded to pout in the corner. The older woman ignored her efforts and continued tidying up the flat, which resembled a post-apocalyptic daycare.
"Miss. Beasley! Julian kicked me!" a small, dark skinned boy shouted, running out from one of the back rooms, holding his shin. The older woman scoffed, but continued to tidy.
"Julian, what have I told you about using Rajesh as your punching bag! Knock it off!"
"What?! He ran into my foot!" Julian replied, sarcastically, from down the hall.
"No, I didn't! He kicked me, and it really hurt!" Rajesh screamed. I was beginning to grow impatient with this situation. I knew the scent was coming from this flat, but it was very clear it wasn't coming from any of these simpletons. I flew around to an adjacent window, with the hopes that what I was searching for would be waiting for me.
I presumed what I saw in that room to be an illusion. . . It was my young master, looking every bit like himself (save for his modern attire), lying on a narrow bed, wearing an irritated grimace as he listened to the commotion outside. I kept my eyes on him, expecting him to vanish at any moment. Just then, a tall adolescent boy came sauntering into the room, running a hand through his pale blond hair.
"Hey Ciel, I brought you back some crisps," he announced, tossing a bag of crisps at my former master. Ciel caught it and popped it open, savouring the salty treats. "Sounds like Julian's being an arse again, eh?"
"Apparently," the smaller boy replied. There was no question that this was my late master. The question was; how and why was he reborn? He was nearly identical to his previous form; with the same eyes, hair, voice, build, name, and most coincidentally, age. It was almost as though he was calling me there, so that I might reclaim my place by his side.
"They had better give it a rest soon, we have school tomorrow. If they keep me awake again, I swear I'll stab them in the eyes," Ciel grumbled. He was clearly joking, it was nice to see he still had that dark sense of humour that he had as my master.
"Calm down, killer. I'm sure Beasley will keep 'em quiet," the older boy said, ruffling Ciel's hair gently. "And if she doesn't, I will." Ciel chuckled lightly at the boy's threat. It was quite nauseating, watching him laughing so joyously.
I glanced around the room, searching for a way to get close to him. Given that he was not plagued with misfortune, it was very unlikely that I could get him to forge another contract with me. I decided the best approach would be to force his dormant memories out of him; memories that rested deep within his soul.
There, on the desk, was my way in; a notebook, upon which was written; "Ciel Winterford, Riverview Academy." This was sure to be difficult, but the prize would be well worth the effort. Ciel Winterford would be mine.
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please review if you have time to spare.
Title: In the language of flowers, the peach blossom can mean long life. It is meant to represent Ciel's rebirth.
