Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji is the sole property of Toboso Yana.
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Break my Suffering Bonds
Chapter Two: Questioning
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Elizabeth Middleford had changed . . . that much was obvious. She was a tall woman now, with a narrow but shapely face and an exceedingly slender build. Her hair no longer sat in ridiculously flamboyant pigtails; now it nicely framed her face, and small ringlets flowed down to the center of her back. She was dressed in an elegant white dress with green around the sleeves and bodice.
But the expression of shock on her face ruined it all. It was clear that her attitude, at least, hadn't changed since twenty years ago. Which . . . probably wasn't a good thing.
So much for avoiding her.
"C-Ciel," she stuttered disbelievingly, her gloved hands slipping on the pot she was carrying. Luckily, before its contents could splatter all over the floor, Sebastian—as usual—gracefully caught the container and returned it to its owner. Lizzy hardly seemed to notice, as her eyes remained trained on her cousin and childhood fiancé.
Again, Ciel's nerves seemed to freeze when pushed into the face of danger, and he raised himself to his full height, plastering a fake smile all over his face. "Hello, Elizabeth."
"You're alive," she stated bluntly. Her voice, though still high-pitched, was nowhere near as squeaky and annoying as the demon child remembered it to be.
"I'm not alive," he replied, just as bluntly. "Do you truly believe that someone can still look as young as I after twenty years have passed between us?"
"But you're here. It shouldn't be possible . . . not if you were dead like everyone told me . . ."
"You can ask the others, if you would like." Ciel turned around, preparing to make his way up the stairs. "I've already explained the situation to them, and I would rather not repeat myself."
"Wait, Ciel!" There was a sharp clatter, and then he halted when a dainty hand grabbed a hold of his shirt sleeve. He turned around slowly to face the blonde woman. She was breathing frantically, her hand shaking against his arm. "I don't . . . I don't care about that right now. All I care about is that you're here, talking to me . . . so much has changed, you know."
"I know."
"I wanted to marry you. Truly I did." Her hand fell from his arm slowly to hang lifelessly at her side. "When they said you had died, I was heartbroken. But then . . . then I thought maybe you didn't love me, not that way. I'm happy now, Ciel. I'm married, and I have children of my own. But I never forgot about you! For you to be standing here . . . I . . ."
Ciel shook his head slowly, inwardly swearing that if those emerald eyes sprouted tears, he would go running. "Lizzy, you're right," he said calmly, using her childhood nickname to help her relax. "You're right that I had no desire to marry you. Every time I thought of how annoyingly bubbly you were, I couldn't imagine living the rest of my life with you. But . . . Lizzy, I did love you. I still do. You're my dearest cousin. I never wanted it to be any different."
"I understand that now." And she beamed a brilliant smile then, her demeanor changing drastically. "Ciel, will you still be here in a couple days? You should meet my children. You'll be their uncle, won't you?"
"I'll see what I can do, Elizabeth."
"No, silly! Elizabeth is what my husband calls me. I'll always be Lizzy to you, so call me that, okay?" Ciel found himself pressed up against a well-endowed bosom as a purely Lizzy-made squeal grated in his ears. "Were you always this tiny? You're so cute~!"
"Um . . ."
"I should go and let the others know I'm here. I brought them some dinner too, because goodness knows poor Agni shouldn't have to cook for them all the time. You'll stay, right? And have evening meal with us?"
"I'm afraid not," he said hurriedly; the tea was bad enough. If he had to go through food too he might as well just die all over again. "We merely came to let everyone know we were here. We don't have much time today."
"As long as you come back it'll be fine. Goodbye, Ciel!" She whirled around and graciously accepted the pot that Sebastian was somehow holding for her. "Oh, Mr. Sebastian . . . you still look so young! How do you do it?"
"Anti-aging cream, of course, Milady," came the stoic reply, and again Ciel had to smother his laughter at the ridiculous notion.
"Me too! Oh, it works so wonderfully, doesn't it? Goodbye to you too, Mr. Sebastian!"
"The worst part is that they all believe it," the demon child snorted once Sebastian joined him again. "Sebastian, she's going to question their explanation. And then everything will have been ruined."
"Nonsense." The butler glanced down curiously, eyes roving Ciel's face almost angrily. "With the display she just put on, there is perhaps no possible way Lady Elizabeth will oppose their explanation. The fact remains that she is happy for your presence and nothing more. She never did like to dab into your private life, a feat I find most admirable on her part considering her constant wish to see you happy."
They reached the top of the first set of stairs, and Ciel paused to yank his eyes away from Sebastian's before the staring could get any more ridiculous. "The only reason she doesn't is because I asked her not to when we first met after the manor burned. You remember that, do you not? But . . . I hope you're right. I really would like to leave them without any incidents. Killing them isn't an option. It can't be."
"As long as they do not find out who we really are."
"Somehow that seems harder than it was a few hours ago." Ciel glanced back down fleetingly at the front entrance before continuing his climb upstairs.
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His room, as Finny had promised, remained untouched. Not even a speck of dust resided on the fine wooden dresser. Ciel relaxed at this sight, feeling lighter than he'd ever felt upon turning into a demon. That bed, still adorned with white sheets and cover . . . it had been his safe haven. It was the place where he had dreamed of better things . . . like if his parents had never been murdered, or if he had just died that fateful day Sebastian had been called upon. That bed was one of the only places where he had felt safe around Sebastian. The demon had always seemed so kind when Ciel asked him to stay through those lonesome nights.
This bed, Ciel realized, held precious memories.
"They have taken good care of your room," Sebastian commented. Ciel turned his head to watch the other demon go through the dresser. There were colors in there . . . colors other than this dreadful, toneless shade he was currently wearing.
"Take the clothes back with us," he murmured. "I tire of wearing black all the time."
"As you wish."
Slowly, Ciel lowered himself onto the bed, smirking as he pointlessly tried to touch the floor with the tips of his toes. The covers had a slightly musty smell that came from not being used for so long, but he could forgive that and blame it on his good sense of smell. He let his body fall sideways until his head hit the pillow . . . the one he never could sleep without. So old now, but still just as comfortable.
"The Young Master liked this bed, did he not?" Sebastian mused, coming to stand on the other side of the four-poster. He was speaking in past tense, but not unkindly.
"I still do," Ciel sighed, nuzzling his nose into the soft pillow. "I only have fond memories of it."
"Would you like the bed transported back to the townhouse, then?"
"No. It belongs in the manor. But the pillow can come back with us. It always did make the trip."
"Because the Young Master could never sleep unless the pillow was with him. Why do you still entertain the notion of sleeping every night? Your body does not need it."
"Habit. Besides . . . sleeping lets me forget everything that has happened."
"You are sleeping away your eternity."
"Do you know how redundant that sounds?" Ciel sat up slowly and pulled the pillow into his chest. Hugging it tightly, he continued. "Sebastian, I know you tell me to find something to enjoy so I won't be miserable. But there's nothing . . . nothing that would make me happy. I used to say I wasn't happy with existing at all. But now I would give anything to go back to this." Slowly he gestured at the room around them. "You may find it ridiculous, but I do feel better to know that you're beside me. However, it . . . it makes it worse at the same time, because I know the only reason you're still here is because you're forced to be."
"The Young Master is still such a child," Sebastian chuckled. The demon butler reached forward and loosened Ciel's death grip on the pillow before any damage could be done. "Perhaps your reasoning is wrong. Perhaps I wish to stay at your side regardless of the contract."
"That's a ridiculous notion," Ciel scoffed, burying his face into the soft pillowcase. "No one likes a miserable child."
The older demon didn't answer to that, and instead straightened out to examine the room again. Ciel watched dully, his eye only half open and trailing after Sebastian's every move. He was tired again; it seemed that each time his butler spoke kindly to him, all he wanted to do was sleep about it, forget about it . . . ignore it, because he didn't deserve it.
Now that he thought about it, he sounded even more pitiful than before.
"Is there anywhere else you would like to go?" Sebastian questioned eventually, turning from his examination of the dart board on the bedside table.
"Not particularly," he murmured. "Although . . . you did say that this manor was rebuilt completely as it had been before the fire, right?" At the butler's nod, he continued. "Do you suppose there could be any hints in my parents' room? They were killed by supernatural beings . . . it makes me wonder if perhaps they were involved with . . . our . . . world at all. They had to have a reason for being targeted by a fallen angel."
"As usual, your way of thinking allows for every detail to be noticed. Shall we look? You ordered the door to be locked at your arrival back then, but I yet have that key."
"Why did you keep it for so long?"
"I had a feeling you would need it at some point in time." Sebastian bowed stiffly, holding out his hand to reveal the key.
The pillow fell back onto the bed as Ciel reluctantly accepted the small object. "We'll come back to get the clothes and the pillow after we're done. Let's go."
Ciel's room was, and always had been, a mere two doors down from his parents'. He used to be scared of the dark, before Sebastian came along. At least twice a week, he would run crying to his mother or father, begging to crawl into bed with them. He felt safe in that room. The darkness could go scare some other child, because squashed in between his parents' warm bodies he was protected. An innocent, typical child, yes, but he missed moments like those. He couldn't rightly feel safe cuddled next to Sebastian, for instance.
But now, there was nothing in that room. It was false hope, to think of what things might have been. The memory of his father, or his mother, or even of himself no longer existed. That room . . . it was merely a spare bed with the belongings of dead relatives.
So why was his hand shaking as he pushed the key into the lock?
The door came unlocked with a soft click, but Ciel didn't move to open it. He wasn't frightened, not exactly . . . it was more like a feeling of foreboding settling deep within his chest. He knew, without a doubt, that there was something beyond this door that could bring an end to this meaningless contract. Something in him would change forever once he found out what it was. And . . . he knew he would be alone again.
Sebastian leaned forward and took a hold of the door handle on his own. Ciel shook himself out of his trance and glanced up at his butler curiously. "You weren't going to do it," the older demon told him calmly. "You need a push."
Well, that was probably true . . . who knew how long he would stand there before actually opening the door? He nodded slowly and stepped aside, opening the way for Sebastian.
"Just remember, Ciel," Sebastian said quietly. "This is not really your parents' room. It is a replica. Nothing you did while you were with them remains. They are only memories."
"That's not the problem," he replied in a whisper.
"Then what is it?"
He shook his head and gestured for the door to be opened. How could he explain to this demon that he didn't want to be alone? It was ironic, it went against the very nature of their kind; demons were meant to be creatures without any form of attachment. They were meant to roam for their prey by themselves, and not with someone to share the glory with. But yet, Ciel could not bear the thought of being alone like that. Not in the way it seemed Sebastian would enjoy it. He needed someone with him, all the time. And whenever he broke the contract with his butler, then he would be left. By himself. In a world he knew nothing about.
But it had to happen sometime.
The door swung open with an atrocious creak; not even the hinges had been oiled since the room was locked. Just for a second, Ciel felt like he were about to walk into a horror fest . . . but no horror could be worse than seeing your own parents burn to death, and so he brushed the thought off just as quickly as it had come up. He followed Sebastian into the room slowly, keeping his eyes firmly on his feet rather than on the room's interior. It smelled horrible . . . musty and moldy, like any second now the roof was going to collapse in on this mistake of a room. This bolstered his confidence just a bit, because it didn't smell anything like his parents did. It was an effect of this thought that caused him to look up, ready to find what it was they were searching for.
Everything was fake.
He had known that from the start, and yet, seeing all of the objects sitting in their respectful places let him know for certain that this was, in fact, a replica. There was no life in any of these . . . things. If they were to find any hints in this room, it would be a copy. They could never regain the original.
He made his way over to the bedside table and lifted a small, framed photo. The dust was so thick on top of the glass that he had to wipe it off with the handkerchief Sebastian had wisely tucked into his shirt pocket. The photo was taken when he was three years old, and it was in his parents' room, to suit the mood of the photographer. They were standing beside the bed, Vincent prim and proper, but with a cheerful smile on his face, and Rachel, holding Ciel in her arms and looking much more informal than her husband. He was smiling, a bright look in his eyes . . . he was happy. It wasn't hard to see even if the photo wasn't in color.
He sighed and placed the photo back onto the table. That side of him was lost forever, without a doubt. He shouldn't have to dig up old wounds like that.
Ciel proceeded to ruffle through all of the items in the room, not feeling in the least bit guilty. Perhaps, if these really had been his parents' things, he might have. But it made it easier to know that the items were all fakes. Nothing here was really theirs. It just sat to replace everything that had been lost in the fire.
"I was quite surprised," Sebastian noted as they searched, "To find that your parents slept in the same room. Is it not custom to sleep in separate rooms on a regular basis?"
"They did it for me," Ciel admitted as he pushed shut a drawer full of clothes. "Because they knew I liked to sleep in between them. Of course the other nobles had no idea. It was a private matter."
"Ah, so Ciel Phantomhive likes to cuddle?"
"Shut up," he snapped, yanking open the next drawer down. That was a thing of the past, anyway. It wasn't like there was anyone to cuddle with anymore. Hell, his body didn't even need to sleep in the first place. That old sentiment wasn't even possible anymore, even if he did like and want it.
They searched for the better part of an hour and came up with nothing. There wasn't a single object, document, or piece of clothing that could lead them in the right direction. All of Ciel's trepidations, fears . . . they had apparently been for nothing. Either it hadn't been replicated, or it had never been there in the first place.
Ciel growled in frustration and flopped down on the right side of the bed, a heavy cloud of dust flying up and into his nose. "There's nothing here," he complained before sneezing violently.
"It was only an idea anyway, Young Ma—Ciel," Sebastian said quietly. Had Ciel been paying attention, he might have noticed the faint relief shining in his butler's wine-colored eyes. The way it was, Ciel merely laughed and lowered his head.
"Perhaps, but I . . . I really thought that something would be here. I had a strong feeling that a hint would show itself in this room. Aargh, it's so annoying!"
"Please do try to reign in your temper. It is not very befitting of you."
"Being a demon is not very befitting of me." Angrily, Ciel snatched the portrait from the bedside table once again. He blazed a scalding glare down at his smiling, slightly chubby face. No worries, no real problems in life . . . oh, how he wished he could return to that point in time once more. He could have grown up normally . . . well, as normal as one would have been as the Queen's Watchdog.
"You have been looking at that photo for some time now." Sebastian stepped forward, though his eyes were trained on the current Ciel's face rather than the child's old one. "Does it have sentimental value?"
"Not really," Ciel replied distractedly. "We had many photos taken of our family. This is merely one out of hundreds. It's just . . . everything looks so simple here. We look like a normal family. But it's been so long I hardly remember what it feels like to be loved . . . like that."
"You mean a parent's sort of love?"
"Yes . . . yes, exactly. But it is worthless to imagine such things anymore. It will never happen."
"Has Ciel ever thought that perhaps he will fall in love . . . in a romantic sense?" Sebastian asked innocently. "Parental love is not needed as much when you find someone who is even closer to your heart than those who raised you."
"Love? Sebastian, don't be ridiculous. I am a demon."
"So you keep vehemently stating. What is so wrong with that?"
"It is not every day one falls in love. I may have the brain of a child, but even I know this. And furthermore, the chances of falling in love with one of my own kind are practically impossible, seeing as how Claude and his . . . accomplices are the only other demons I have encountered. And to love a human . . . it must be forbidden. Even if I were to fall in love with a human, they would grow old and die right before my eyes. Is that not a torture in itself?"
"I fell in love with a human," Sebastian commented. "It was torturous, yes, but in the end, it turned out fine."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He glanced up from his inspection of his father's frozen face to stare at the older demon in confusion.
"You will learn in due time, I think." Sebastian turned away. "Since we have found nothing in here, shall we leave? It is a two-hour trip back into London, after all."
Reluctantly, Ciel moved to tear his gaze away from the photo . . . only to freeze and jerk his head back down again. For a second, he had seen something in that happy atmosphere that didn't seem right. But when he stared at it again, there was nothing out of the ordinary . . .
He frowned and moved the photo from side to side, trying to see what had made him pause. But there was nothing, nothing . . . there! When he held the photo a certain way, so that it hit the dim light filtering in through the curtained windows, he could see a mark that was on the inside of the frame . . . part of the picture. "Sebastian!" he hissed frantically. "Look at this!"
The butler was by his side in an instant, staring down at the mark on the photo along with him. There . . . it was all the proof they needed that his parents had, indeed, been wrapped up in something . . . otherworldly.
There, lit up only because of the sun's direct rays, was a pentacle.
"This isn't an angel's mark," Ciel announced, though it was pretty obvious. "But an angel is the one that killed them. I don't get it."
"It can't be that the angel had a contract with a demon," Sebastian mused, plucking the photo from Ciel's nerveless fingers to look for himself. "Unless . . . our angel was fallen. Could that have been its sin?"
"There was no mark of a contract on the angel's body."
"We didn't really look that close, if you recall. Or, perhaps . . . the angel found a way to break the contract between the time it killed your parents to the time we found it. Shall we take this with us?" The demon glanced up at the wall where the pentacle would have been situated, but he frowned when, at least to Ciel's eyes, he saw nothing. "I suppose something of this sort would not have been replicated in the rebuilding of the manor. It is too hard to see. But we do know that it was supposed to be in that spot."
"If it wasn't replicated, then how did they know to put that in the photo?" Ciel asked softly.
"Because that photo is the original. It was one of the few things salvaged from the ruins. Look closely; you can see burns on the edges of the paper."
Ciel sighed and pulled his body away from the bed. "We'll take it with us. But it doesn't really lead us anywhere, does it? All it does is open up more questions. I'm extremely confused right now, Sebastian."
"Shall I call it quite a feat that I am shocked as well?" Sebastian carefully tucked the frame away inside his jacket pocket. "What do you suppose the next step should be, then, Ciel?"
"I don't know at all," the child-demon admitted unhappily. "I am not well informed on how to go around getting information about the otherworldly beings, even if I am one myself. You should tutor me better, Sebastian. I'm going to be laughed at for not knowing much about what I am."
"I apologize. I will try to fill you in on some things from now on."
"Do you have any ideas?"
"One," he responded curtly.
"So spit it out!" Ciel demanded, stomping out of the room behind the older demon.
"Certainly you remember the job of the Death Gods? They are to watch the cinematic record of every person that dies to determine whether they go to heaven or hell."
"I know that." The key turned in the lock, effectively shutting away the room from the rest of the manor once more. "What does that have to do with this, though?"
Sebastian smirked, leaning down to tap Ciel's nose with one long, gloved finger. "Humans aren't the only ones with cinematic records. Demons, angels . . . even the Death Gods have their own record. Because all of us can die, no matter what we are. Therefore . . ."
Ciel had the pieces together before Sebastian had finished the sentence. "Therefore, if the angel made a contract with someone, it would be in the book. And . . . that includes all of the details about my parents' murder. How can we get a hold of the angel's book?"
At this, Sebastian sighed and frowned down at Ciel. "That will be the problem. We have to get the book from one of the Death Gods. And we have to get it from someone who can be trusted. Therefore, someone like Grelle would get in trouble for taking it from the shelves, so we cannot rely on him. The only real chance we have in getting the book is through Undertaker."
"But we haven't been able to find Undertaker!" Ciel, back in his own room at that point, snatched the pillow from the bed and squeezed it tightly to his chest. "All that remains of his shop has been turned into a flower stand. He's gone virtually missing. How are we supposed to find him?"
"Perhaps he stopped at the manor at some point in time?" Sebastian opened a packing trunk and began to move clothes from the dresser. "We should ask the servants. If anyone can lead us in the direction of Undertaker, they certainly can."
"I suppose we shall have to stay for a bit longer, then."
"While I am packing your clothes, you could go down and question them," Sebastian suggested.
"By myself?"
"Surely the Young Master knows the way around his own manor."
"That's not what I meant!" Ciel angrily retorted. "I mean . . . what if they ask questions I can't answer? I could very well give us away."
"If they ask a question such as that, merely inform them that you are not obliged to answer. Don't worry, Ciel. I won't be much longer here. Tell them you wish to visit Undertaker and would like to know where he resides. And do leave the pillow here. I will place it in the carriage."
The former Earl groaned in frustration but did as he was told, and the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the kitchen, awkwardly listening to the argument on the other side of the door. It was nostalgic to hear something so normal again, after all this time. He did miss his former life with his servants, even if they had annoyed him to no end . . .
"Mr. Bard! You may not use that flamethrower on the stew Lady Elizabeth provided for us!"
"And why not? The pot's cold; all I'm doing is heating it up so we can eat it faster!"
"You'll destroy it!"
. . . Scratch that. They still annoyed him.
Ciel almost wanted to knock, but he harshly reminded himself that he was still the master of his manor and did not need to do such a petty thing. He pushed the door open swiftly before he could change his mind, walking in between the two quarreling men. Bard and Agni stared at him in shock, and belatedly Ciel realized that he had never come to the kitchen before . . . much less without his butler.
"Young Master!" Bard quickly yelped, shoving the flamethrower in his hand behind is back. "What are you—I mean, is there something you needed?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Ciel admitted distractedly, his eye lazily trailing over to the pot on the stove. "I don't think Lizzy would appreciate her meal being put to waste. Do put the weapon away, Bard. The stove will heat it just fine."
"O-of course, Young Master!" The chef opened a cabinet and swiftly pushed the flamethrower inside. Ciel smirked when he glimpsed several other hazardous weapons lurking in that particular cabinet.
"I was wondering," the child demon stated, "if perchance either of you knew where the Undertaker was residing. I have been meaning to pay him a visit, but . . . unfortunately his shop seems to no longer exist."
"Undertaker?" Agni questioned.
"Oh, you know him," Bard laughed. "Creepy guy, silver hair, always seems to be laughing . . . visited not too long ago, he did."
"So he's still around?" Ciel asked hopefully.
"Oh yeah. Don't know where he lives, though. Never asked him. Meirin might know. Undertaker seems to like talking to her. She makes him laugh all the time."
"Where is Meirin at the moment?"
"I believe she's straightening up the parlor and talking to Lady Elizabeth," Agni calmly supplied.
"Lizzy?" Ciel grimaced unhappily but nodded his thanks. "Bard."
"Young Master?"
"Don't you dare get that flamethrower out after I leave."
Ciel smirked with the satisfaction of hearing Bard say, "He ain't changed a bit, has he?" just before the kitchen door swung closed.
By the time he reached the parlor Sebastian had joined him once again, and he had to admit he felt a bit more relaxed than he did when talking to Bard. He practically floated into the parlor, sending a polite smile in Lizzy's direction before sitting down again. Meirin was looking as clumsy as usual, and even Sebastian emitted a quiet chuckle when she realized they had come in and had whirled around so fast she tripped over the couch.
"Oh, Ciel!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "So you decided to stay for dinner after all?"
"No, I'm afraid not; I merely wanted to ask Meirin a question."
"M-me?" The woman practically fell into a chair, staring at Ciel like he was a mafia boss and not a thirteen-year-old (to her eyes) kid.
"Relax, it's nothing damaging." He placed his elbow on the arm of the chair and leaned against his hand tiredly. "I talked to Bard just a moment ago, and he said that Undertaker tends to talk to you quite a bit. I was hoping you knew where he lived? I would like to visit him as well."
"Ah, that. I hate that man," she grumped. "He's always laughing at me. I don't see how I'm so funny!"
Sebastian coughed.
"Meirin, would you please get to the question?" Ciel asked, hiding a smirk of his own.
"Oh, yes, of course! I asked him where he was living before, but he never told me, Young Master. But . . . that strange red-headed man knows. His name was . . . Grelle, I think."
"Grelle?" Ciel grimaced, and Sebastian visibly paled. It was safe to say that neither of them liked him very much, and they had been looking forward to never meeting the man again. It would save a lot of blood and tears. But, Ciel thought unhappily, if it can't be helped . . . "And how would Grelle know?"
"Why, he says he sees Undertaker all the time, on account of some scary eyes or other." The maid straightened herself in the chair with a beet red blush and shook her head. "He's a right strange man, Young Master. He comes over because he keeps telling us that Mr. Sebastian will be back, and he wants to see him. He's quite smitten with you, Mr. Sebastian."
Sebastian shuddered. "That is not something you need to point out, Meirin. I'm well aware of what Mr. Sutcliffe thinks of me."
"The question now, Meirin, is where exactly Grelle is living at this point." Ciel lowered his arm and straightened his back; the answer to this one was bound to be just as vague as the last.
However . . .
"Oh, that's an easy one! He's living in that flower shop . . . you know, the one that used to be Undertaker's? He runs the place."
"And that," Ciel sighed, "Would explain why all the flowers on display were red." He craned his head back to stare at Sebastian. "I suppose we shall have to check in with Mr. Sutcliffe, then. What do you think, Sebastian?"
"As much as I loathe the idea, Young Master, if you wish to visit the Undertaker then that is what we should do."
"Yes, of course. Thank you very much for the information, Meirin." He moved to stand . . . only to be forced back down in the chair by a very flustered Elizabeth. He blinked up at her in surprise. "What . . ."
"I simply must insist that you stay for dinner, Ciel!" she stated. "You'll be riding back into London for a good two hours; you're sure to be hungry."
"I can't, Lizzy," he calmly replied, standing once more. "I might not have said this, but I don't think I have much time to figure things out. I cannot stand to waste any time, even if it is something I would rather be doing. I appreciate your offer, but I can't tarry any longer."
"But . . . you'll come to see my children, won't you? I'm staying in London as well."
"Can you bring them by the townhouse within the next couple days? I will be glad to see them, Lizzy." It was with chagrin that he said this; he didn't really want to meet them. He just considered it an obligation . . . something to do to make her happy, just like all of the other times.
"Will tomorrow be fine, then?" she questioned excitedly.
"Sometime in the afternoon should be all right. For now, I am afraid we must go. Come, Sebastian."
The second he stepped out of the manor, he breathed a sigh of relief. He felt too young in there, like he'd been frozen in time . . . and he was, really. But it was odd to see them all look so old, and he didn't want to see it again. He didn't want to watch them grow old.
Not to mention, he really hadn't wanted to meet Elizabeth.
"You certainly wasted no time in leaving," Sebastian said while Ciel climbed into the carriage. The driver had been near the stables to occupy himself and now came dashing back with a flustered expression on his face. Ciel noted that Sebastian gave the man a disgusted glare before climbing in after him . . . that probably meant there would be one less carriage driver on the streets tomorrow.
"I didn't want to spend more time than necessary, after all," he replied vaguely. "Besides, they were beginning to smell good."
The butler chuckled at this statement. "Oh? Is your appetite beginning to grow? You just ate last night, after all."
"Don't be ridiculous. I eat in moderation. But I can't help the fact that they smell like food to me now. It was rather awkward." Ciel frowned. "Did I smell like that to you?"
"Oh, no." Sebastian grinned, and Ciel could not suppress a disgusted glance as the demon exposed his fangs. "You smelled a hundred times better. Like the finest sweet smelled to your nose. You were the one soul out of millions that would stand out to any demon . . . I can guarantee that I was extremely proud to be able to claim you as mine."
"I suppose you were pretty upset, then, that you never got it."
"I managed just a taste before Claude ruined everything," Sebastian sighed wistfully. "But, I must say . . . even that one taste was quite enough for a demon such as myself to last for years. Now I am merely content that I was able to taste you at all."
"I see. Will . . . will there ever be someone like that for me?" The carriage jerked forward without warning, but Ciel's eye never once moved away from Sebastian's own.
"You are not yet ready to form contracts of your own. However, I am certain that someday you will come across a soul such as that. To obtain a taste of such a treasure . . . surely you, of all people, will be able to manage it, Ciel."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Merely that only demons with such . . . beautiful souls in past lives will grow to claim souls of a similar kind."
"Are you implying that your soul was once like mine?" Ciel raised an eyebrow curiously.
"You think far too little of me, Ciel. I was, after all, born a demon."
"So you have no soul at all."
"I did not say that either." Sebastian raised a finger to his cheek, presenting Ciel with a perfect image of someone trying to think. "How should I put this? Every being has a soul when they come into being. But a demon's soul and a human's soul are two different things. Humans are prone to every emotion, the good and the bad . . . everything has an equal potential. You can either turn out good or bad in the end. A demon is not given that choice. We come into being with a soul that focuses more on the bad things. We are still able to feel emotions like love, and happiness. But hate, and lust, and greed are all at the forefront of our soul."
"So, my soul . . ."
"Your soul is the same as it was before, because you were originally a human. You will not be subjected to an excess amount of hate, because you were not hateful before."
"Mm . . ." Ciel straightened, raising his hand to stare once again at those filthy black nails. "So . . . it's the same as before. Does that mean . . ."
"Ciel," Sebastian scoffed, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. "Eating your soul would be like you as a human eating Elizabeth. It's cannibalism. Even the idea is disgusting to me." His eyes landed on Ciel's, and then before the boy realized it, his eye patch had been removed and now dangled from the elder demon's hand. "Besides," he chuckled softly. "At this stage, I couldn't eat your soul. It is far too precious to me to be wasted in such a way."
"Precious?" The word sounded foreign on Ciel's tongue, because truly, the word had only ever applied to him when his parents were around. If he were to describe his soul, he supposed he would use the word pitiful, or despicable, or ignorant. None of those words were positive, and the word precious . . . it topped the positive scale. For Sebastian's sake, though, he said nothing more. He would keep thoughts like those to himself.
Sebastian fell silent after that, though his eyes never once left Ciel's form. Even as the boy demon turned his face to the window, he felt that bright red gaze on him. But he was used to it by now . . . used to being watched by him. Sebastian always had kept an eye on him like this, anyway.
Ciel took the pillow into his arms again, insanely grateful that Sebastian had remembered to put it in the carriage. The two hour ride back into London seemed too long once again, and since he didn't particularly want to think of what they were going to do next, he decidedly flopped over sideways on the seat and cradled the pillow against his chest. Slowly he allowed his eyes to flutter closed, completely breaking off contact from Sebastian's still-watching eyes.
"You're going to sleep, then?" the butler asked calmly.
"Mm," Ciel halfheartedly replied.
"I will wake you up once we reach London. Would you like to visit the flower shop today or tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," he sighed finally. "In the morning, before Elizabeth arrives. I don't want to deal with anything else today."
"Ah, I did forget. You are normally grumpy the day after you feed. Very well. I will let you sleep until we reach the town house."
"Mm," Ciel murmured once more, and then he was sinking into the blissful world of sleep.
.
One thing Ciel had definitely not been planning on doing was hunting in the middle of the night . . . for the second time in two days. And yet, here he was in the middle of London's empty street, standing beside a distinctly happy-looking Sebastian. Needless to say, he was not in a very good mood . . . though he had to admit that he was a tad bit hungry.
"Why," he demanded calmly, "are we doing this now?"
"Because you are yet a fledgling," Sebastian slowly explained. "You should know by now that if you haven't eaten in a few days, controlling your natural tendencies—such as your eyesight and your emotions—will be extremely hard. You don't want to flash a red eye at Elizabeth or her children, do you?"
"But I just ate last night—"
"We are just being safe, Ciel. If we don't hide your true nature, we would have to kill both Elizabeth and her children."
". . . Oh." He averted his gaze after that, staring down the empty street in frustration. It was a routine, now, and one that he didn't like. They were to stand in the middle of the street until some poor soul made the mistake of walking outside. Normally that person came from the commoner bar, and to be perfectly honest, Ciel had no qualms about killing a drunken whore. But every now and then, someone completely innocent stepped out from a nearby store, or perhaps even their home, and they spared no one save children. The second the person was in the street, it was up to one of them to seduce the victim into coming with them . . . and then they would eat.
Ciel hadn't properly learned to extract the soul from the body quite yet, and so he had the macabre job of eating the heart . . . the only way to get to the soul otherwise. Sebastian had tried teaching him on several occasions, but with the process involved mind games and concentration, Ciel found that he wasn't particularly good at it. When there was a bloody corpse sitting a few inches from his face, the only thing he could concentrate on was the blood . . . and the tantalizing scent of his new meal.
"It's cold," Ciel muttered, pulling his coat tighter to himself.
Sebastian frowned down at him in confusion. "Cold? But demons don't . . ."
"Well, maybe it's different if the demon was once a human," the boy sighed in exasperation. "It's cold; I'm not making it up."
"You are in a bad mood. Worse than usual."
"And you're amused by that, aren't you?" he snarled, glaring up at the smirking butler. "Can't you just forget about this? It's ridiculous to wait out here. There may not be someone for hours."
"Then we shall simply have to wait for hours. Do you truly wish for Lady Elizabeth to find out you're a demon?"
"No, but—"
"Then deal with it."
He growled again, this time in anger. Sebastian may have been right, but that didn't mean Ciel had to like it. Infuriating . . . that was the word he had recently tacked onto his former butler. And there was simply nothing he could do about it.
A door down the street opened, and Ciel tensed, hardly prepared to see the face of his next meal. However, the person that stepped out onto the street was barely more than a ten-year-old boy, and so he relaxed with a soft sigh. That person, at least, was safe from them for another ten years . . .
Sebastian started forward.
Ciel hastily reached forward and snatched a hold of the butler's jacket sleeve, yanking him back with a strength he hadn't known he possessed. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he nearly yelled.
"Seducing our meal," Sebastian replied calmly.
"That is a child," Ciel hissed. "Did we not agree? Only adults."
"I do believe it is time for you to learn how to take what you can get. Finding meals will not always be such an easy feat, Ciel."
"No . . ." Perhaps he was being a bit sentimental, but the child walking down the street in front of him reminded him too much of himself. He had been ten when captured by the occultists. Wasn't this the same thing? Sure, it would be a lot quicker. But for the child to be subjected to such a fate was ridiculous . . . and he would never let it happen. "Don't . . ." he stuttered angrily. "Don't touch him, Sebastian. I . . . I'll make it an order!"
Sebastian stopped mid-step and turned around. Ciel gasped shallowly at the look in the demon's eyes, because . . . it was feral. "Is that so?"
Oh . . . oh. Sebastian was . . . trying to force him into utilizing the contract! For what reason, he had no idea. But he did know that it was wrong, and he wasn't going to do it. He knew . . . he had to persuade Sebastian to leave the child alone some other way.
So he resorted to something that had his insides crawling.
"Don't . . . Sebastian . . . please don't." Begging . . . it was atrocious. But Sebastian liked to see him beg, would do practically anything for it. Ciel thought it was disgusting to have to fall to this, but he would not allow Sebastian to kill a child.
The smirk on Sebastian's face fell immediately, which possibly shocked Ciel more than the previous event did. Obviously he was not amused. Did that mean, perhaps, that he was going to be ignored? His grip on the jacket sleeve tightened nervously.
"You never beg," the butler murmured softly. Behind him, the child safely made his way back inside; Ciel relaxed visibly.
"You wouldn't stop," came the quiet reply, and Ciel could not halt the shaking of his body. "And I won't ever use the contract again, not ever. You . . . I didn't know what else to do. You were provoking me, weren't you?"
The tavern down the street spat out a fat drunkard, and Sebastian sighed as he disentangled Ciel's fingers from his sleeve. "Wait here. I'll do everything tonight."
"But—"
"Don't go anywhere."
Ciel groaned to himself and sat down on the edge of the street. That had been . . . nerve-wracking, to say the least. You didn't make Sebastian mad; that was a rule. He was fueled by anger, and when that happened, it was safe to say that his brain wasn't attached to his body. Begging had never had that effect on the demon butler before. It was rather frightening.
But then, he hadn't begged in such a long time . . . not since he had been human, to be sure. He knew Sebastian thought of him as more than a meal now. A partner, perhaps. A companion, most definitely. Still, Sebastian liked to tease; it didn't matter who it was. Getting Ciel to beg had been one of the ways to tease him. So why, why had the demon's eyes looked so sad when he had done just that?
Ciel slumped down on himself until his head hit his knees. He threaded his fingers through his teal-colored hair and puffed out a visible breath of air. Sebastian's actions always made him like this: thoroughly shaken and wondering just what would become of him as a cause of it. He was so sure of everything else. So why was it that everything that involved his damned butler dropped his confidence level down to zero? It was so unfair.
A sharp scream echoed through the empty street; Ciel lowered his hands to his ears as he glanced around to see if anyone else had heard the dying drunkard. That was his least favorite part of eating . . . the killing. He'd killed before becoming a demon, yes. But he had always had a plausible reason for doing that sort of thing. Oh, he could just imagine Scotland Yard's reaction if he were ever caught. Why did you do it? they would ask. Because I was hungry, he would answer truthfully.
It was laughable, all the same.
"Ciel!" Sebastian called. The child wearily rose to his feet and wandered his way down the street to the alley chosen for the night. The smell of fresh blood suddenly assaulted his nose; against his will he felt his stomach lurch hungrily. The thought of what he was about to do disgusted him, but there wasn't much he could do to change it. He needed the sustenance just as much as he had needed food as a human.
"Would you like to try for the soul again?" Sebastian questioned as soon as he stepped foot into the dark alley.
Ciel nodded grimly and stared down at the fresh corpse. Sebastian usually asked him to try, but it always ended in utter failure. Although, he was constantly reminded that it was one of the first things a demon learned to do, and the fact that he couldn't do it yet was humiliating. He wanted to learn the trick as soon as possible.
"He doesn't smell that good . . ." he muttered quietly.
"His soul certainly is not the ripest one around," Sebastian agreed with a chuckle. "It will do for the time being, however. Please, go ahead before you waste too much time."
Ciel's nose twitched with disgust as he bent down closer to the body; the dead man smelled like cheap whiskey and sweat. The mouth was hanging half open, so luckily he did not have the luxury of having to pry open the lips with his bare hands. He positioned his mouth just above the corpse's, not close enough to kiss but enough to feel the quickly evaporating warmth from the body. He licked his lips nervously and shut his eyes.
Concentration . . . that was what this took. Somewhere inside of this motionless shell was a soul that had yet to be collected. He could picture it crawling up through the body, from the chest and up through the throat, settling in the mouth and just begging to be released . . .
This was the part that he always tended to mess up on. The soul was stuck in that space, and he had to know just the right way to do it or he would risk ruining the intact quality of it. Focus was the key, and that was one thing Ciel did not have much of. His mind always tended to think of different things to distract him from what he was physically doing. That was his biggest mistake.
But this time his mind was still fully focused on the soul floating in the dead man's mouth, and with a slow, almost imperceptible movement, he opened his mouth wider to inhale.
The taste that flowed into his mouth was so unexpected that he snapped his mouth closed on instinct, reeling backwards into Sebastian's chest. "Oh . . ." he gasped shallowly.
"Did my little fledgling just have his first taste of a demon's true nourishment, then?" Sebastian asked amusedly. "What did you think?"
Ciel swallowed uncertainly, feeling the taste linger on his tongue. "It tasted . . . like sweets . . ." He glanced back down at the body nervously. "I ruined it . . ."
"Merely the fact that you managed to obtain a taste is good enough for now. But . . . you should eat the heart, so that you can maintain your composure tomorrow. Merely a taste is not going to sate your hunger for long. Not with a soul of that caliber." In one fluid motion Sebastian plunged his hand into the dead man's chest, just to return with a bloody, still-warm organ staining his white glove. Ciel didn't hesitate to give it a disgusted glare before tentatively taking it into his hands, watching the blood ooze between his pale fingers. "Your eyes are the most delightful shade of red," Sebastian breathed into his ear.
"Shut up," he whispered back. "You know I can't help it. I thought you liked the blue better."
"Under certain circumstances," Sebastian smirked. He moved his body away from Ciel's. "Eat before your food grows cold, and then we can return to the town house."
"Sebastian?"
A harsh glare forced him into motion; he stuck his tongue out to gently lap at the blood covering the organ before biting down with sharp fangs. The hunger assaulted him all at once, and disgust was overtaken by his growling stomach. He lowered his eyes from Sebastian to the ground as he ate, question forgotten for the time being.
He'd never eaten so much at once . . . this was possibly the first time he had ever allowed Sebastian to take him hunting two nights in a row, and he felt relatively stuffed as he languidly flicked his tongue over his hands, collecting every bit of blood that had dripped into the crevices between his fingers. He wouldn't need to hunt for another week, at least, and that thought made him quite a bit happier than he had been just moments before.
"Are you done?"
Ciel glanced up at Sebastian before bobbing his head in a silent nod. Whatever mood the elder demon had been in before hunting seemed to be gone now, and goodness knew Ciel didn't want to provoke him. That didn't mean he wasn't curious about what had happened, though. And it was because of those thoughts that Ciel opened his mouth tentatively one more time. "Sebastian? Um . . . earlier . . ."
"Don't beg again, Ciel," Sebastian ordered firmly. "I should not have provoked you in such a way. But if I ever do it again, do not resort to that. I'm sorry for making you resort to such methods."
"You're . . . apologizing?"
"I'm not uncaring," the demon uttered with mock hurt in his gaze.
"Why did you go after a child when I asked you not to?" Finally content with the cleanliness of his hands, Ciel turned to fully gaze at Sebastian.
"I won't answer that right now. You wouldn't understand."
"You always say I won't understand!" he complained angrily. "Why don't you ever answer me?"
Sebastian shook his head and gave Ciel one of his signature don't you dare push it looks. Ciel bit his lip as he jerked his head away from that burgundy gaze. "I will tell you when you're ready to hear the answer. Until then, don't ask about it."
"Fine . . ." he grumbled unhappily.
Sebastian's ungloved hand gently tugged one of Ciel's down from his face. Ciel blinked in surprise at the sight: one much larger hand encircling his own tiny one. Black nails screamed out at him . . . traits of the demons that they were. "Let's go," Sebastian told him quietly.
"Ugh . . ." Ciel ripped his hand out of the butler's and whirled around to march out of the alleyway. "I don't need your hand; I can walk by myself. Let's just get back to the town house. I'm tired again."
Sebastian stared for a moment, eyes hardened with an unexplainable emotion.
"And that," he whispered to Ciel's retreating back, too quiet for the child to catch, "is why you aren't ready yet for the answer yet . . ."
.
o.O What in the world could Sebastian be hiding from his bocchan? .
Yup. Here I am, updating this at the ungodly morning hours when I should be fast asleep . . . and all because I stayed up all night trying to finish this chapter for you guys. Somehow I feel accomplished . . . even though it feels like I chewed up this chapter and spat it back out. Sorry. XD Hopefully the next chapter won't sound so garbled. Don't worry. I definitely know where I want to go with this.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please feel free to critique/fix any of my errors, and let me know what you're thinking! I always answer any reviews/PMs you guys send me. I really like to chat. :D
~Shadow