Hey guys! I just saw Titanic 3D, and yes, I did cry. But what can I say; I'm a hopeless romantic. And don't tell me you've never cried at the Titanic. Because I know you have. I know.

Alrighty, now here's the next chappie! Enjoy with lots of hugs, kisses, and Easter candy!

~Enjoy!~

Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown

Everybody's watching to see the fallout

Even when you're sleeping,

Keep your eyes open.

Week 1, Day 2

"Sebastian, I swear to god, if you give one more trig problem-" I uttered in a frustrated tone. I threw my math book on the ground and gave an exasperated sigh.

"Just like a child," he spoke in low tone. "Don't worry, you're all done with trigonometry for now. Besides, you've gotten every single example correct that I've given you. You could easily be acing all of your classes right now if you only tried."

"Like I haven't heard that at least a couple thousand times," I grumbled.

"Maybe if you took the advice into use, then perhaps you wouldn't hear it so often," Sebastian suggested.

I snatched my phone off the coffee table and lazily flipped through my missed messages. "Listen, I don't have the time for lectur-oh shit!"

I jumped off the couch and threw on my jacket lying on an ottoman near the door. I tossed my purse over my shoulder and speedily slipped into my shoes.

"Where are you going?" Sebastian asked, surprised.

"I've got to go pick up Trixie!" I exclaimed as I remembered my phone still lying on the table.

"Who's that?" he interrogated.

"My roomie," I explained briskly. "She's been at the hospital, recovering from surgery. I was supposed to pick her up and take her home today, but I'm running late."

"But you don't have a car," Sebastian noted.

"Oh, I'll be fine," I reassured him.

"No, I'll come with," Sebastian commanded.

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, if you really want to. But I can't reassure you that you'll get along with her."

"Give me some credit," Sebastian laughed. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't befriend some silly Trixie?"

"A regular one?" I quipped.

"Oh, hush, you," he silenced.

"Hurry up!" I yelled at Sebastian, who had decided that now was an excellent time to follow the rules of the road. "Oh, goddammit, why do they have to drive on the freaking left side here?"

"Seul," Sebastian stated in his 'matter of factly' tone. "The whole world drives on the left side of the road. That is, except for America."

"Well, sorry, I didn't realize it was 'hate on America' day," I caviled.

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Seul, is there something bothering you? Maybe it was that dream you had last night?"

"No, I've been perfectly fine. Been up since three o'clock and going strong ever since."

"That was twelve hours ago," Sebastian pointed out. "You only got three and a half hours of sleep last night. Maybe you should take a nap-"

"Shut up!" I shushed. "I don't need your opinions! Besides, you're the one who's been making me study nonstop for those stupid exams."

"I realize that that was a mistake now," Sebastian admitted.

"Oh, the great Sebastian Michaelis confessing his wrongs? Someone, please, get this down on paper!" I shouted in the confined space of Sebastian's fast-moving car.

"Seul, take a sip of this." Sebastian held out a bottle of ice water to me. "Don't say another word until you have."

I made a face, but accepted the liquid offering. I unscrewed the cap and poured the chilled contents down my throat. The water seemed to do the trick, because after I'd drank nearly half the bottle, my nerves seemed to have diminished.

"I'm okay now," I said in between deep, raspy breaths. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine," Sebastian heartened. "Where did you say this hospital was again?"

"Oh, it's just up ahead," I directed.

"But isn't that-"

"Don't worry about it," I cut off.

"Alright," Sebastian conceded.

A few moments later, we pulled into the hospital parking lot. Rushing out of the car, I nearly tripped over the step up onto the curb. I hastily opened the door and bolted to the front desk.

"I'm here for Trixie," I gasped.

The receptionist looked down at her check board and remarked, "You're late."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," I affronted with a stony glare.

"Well, anyway, she'll be out any minute," the woman replied.

I was glad Sebastian had stayed in the car, I didn't need him here right now. He'd only be a nuisance and a pest at the very least.

I only had to wait a couple minutes before the doctor brought out a very drugged-up Trixie.

"The surgery went extremely well and the ulcer was removed without any problems," the doctor explained. "Be careful with her though, she's still pretty heavily sedated. You'll want to keep a constant watch on her for the next six hours, but she should be fine after that."

"Got it, thanks doc," I gratified.

I took Trixie out to the car where Sebastian was waiting. I opened the side door and was about to get in when Sebastian protested.

"No, you're not taking that in here."

"Come on, Sebastian. Look!" I held Trixie's dark black hair up to the demon's own matching shade. "You guys even have the same hair color, kind of."

"When I said no, I meant it."

"But, what kind of boyfriend would you be if you couldn't befriend some silly Trixie?" I put a hand over my eyes to block out the sunlight that was getting in them so that I could better view Sebastian's face when he realized his fault.

He wordlessly accepted defeat and ushered us into the car. "You could have at least mentioned that 'Trixie' was a dog," he complained.

"But what fun would that be?" I grinned, satisfied. I petted Trixie's petite black and tan Yorkie coat that somewhat resembled Sebastian's hair. "Though, her name's really Dominatrix; thought you might like to know."

"Ah, I figured that you wouldn't have picked out such a silly name," he commented. "Though, where did the nickname originate?"

"Alois," was the simple answer that needed no explanation.

It had been seven hours since I'd started studying this morning and two hours since I'd picked up Dominatrix. My patience was starting to wear thin as each problem on the page started to blend together and all the words Sebastian spoke turned into a jumbled-up mess.

"What is the most proximal bone of the leg in tetrapod vertebrates capable of walking or jumping?"

"…"

"Seul, you're not answering."

"…"

"…Seul?'

"Nnngh," I said in response. I raised my head slightly from in between my arms and felt my back muscles stretch as I pulled my limp body off the couch.

Sebastian shut the anatomy book he had been holding and placed it gently on the seat next to him. "Alright, I think that's all for today. From what I can observe, there's not much more information you can absorb without it passing right between your ears."

I bended over my folded knees in order to better stretch my lower back. "You're right for once, dude," I muttered tiredly.

"Well since you can't retain any more of this sort of knowledge, how about we go learn a different type of information?" Sebastian suggested.

I stared at the demon blankly. I had no bloody clue what he was talking about.

I guess he had probably picked up on my cluelessness, but even if he had, he didn't show it. "Come on, put on your shoes and jacket. We're going out."

"Like on a date?" I proposed dumbly.

"No, not unless you like dates to these sort of places. And I'm strongly assuming you don't."

"What kind of places?"

Sebastian smirked. "You'll just have to find out."

Oh great, surprises. Just what I wanted at a time like this.

While we drove along in Sebastian's beastly vehicle, I noticed the scenery start to change, and not in a good way. To say it simply, we were driving into the lesser parts of London. Or as one might call it in America, the ghetto.

The buildings started to become more run down, and the alleyways became shadier. The street corners occupied themselves with scantily clad young women looking for work and drug dealers awaiting customers. The signs turned neon and cheap and if you stayed at one of the motels here, you could assume you would be sharing it with a plethora of vermin such as cockroaches and rats. That, and who knew what kind of diseases you could contract just from inhaling the air in these parts. What was Sebastian doing in these types of places? Honestly, I thought he had more class than that. I know that was hard to expect out of a demon, but somehow he made it work.

"Sebastian?" I asked apprehensively.

"Don't worry, my dear," he reassured. "I know what I'm doing. Besides, with me around, you can be positive that no one's getting near you. There's nothing to fret about."

"That's not exactly what I was worrying about." I bit my lip nervously. What if he was taking me to this part of town to rape me and violate my body? Forget the 'class' part, maybe he was more dangerous than I thought I could handle. But if he went against our contract, would he like, turn to dust or something? Sorry, I'm not up on my mythology. I'm not the smart one in my family, no matter what Sebastian says about my intelligence.

We came to a row of buildings and Sebastian shut off the engine to his monstrous car. I guess this was our stop. I timorously stepped out of the car and noticed the crooked sign above the store. "Undertaker" was what it read. Hm, isn't that another name for a mortician? Okay, now I really want to know what Sebastian is bringing me here for.

Sebastian walked out to meet me and I quickly wrapped my arms around his right bicep. I know, usually I detested contact with him, but this wasn't a normal time. I was in the hood of London, about to enter a funeral parlor. I kind of needed some aegis right now.

I took a careful step into the shop and took a look around. It was mainly black but heavily decorated in bones, coffins, and the like. Cobwebs hung from the corners and ceilings, along with the spiders that inhibited them. It took a couple seconds before I noticed the coroner, who was holding a skull in his hands, which I could only assume was the real deal.

He turned around and I saw his face. Or, at least I saw part of it. He wore a tall black hat with a train in the back and his long gray bangs obscured his eyes from view. A long silvery scar ran in an upwards diagonal through the middle of his face and a large grin was plastered on his lips. He had long black nails, which he was currently clacking against the skull and on his person he had a long black robe with baggy sleeves. The song "My Boy Builds Coffins" by Florence & The Machine came to mind when I saw him. Oh dammit, now that song's going to be stuck in my head.

The coroner giggled a bit when he saw me and I let go of Sebastian's arm to prove to him that I wasn't scared of him.

"What's so funny?" I glared intently at his waggling figure.

"Oh, keke, it's so interesting to see someone like you in here, with my old friend," he cackled.

I turned to Sebastian. "You know him?"

Sebastian put his first two fingers on his temple and inhaled deeply. "Sadly, yes."

"Kukukuku, the demon and I go way back," the funeral director tittered like it was too hilarious to handle. "Though we did have, ah, some problems, but he's been seeing me again lately."

"Really? Well, do you have a name?" I questioned insolently.

"Call me Undertaker," the stranger instructed.

"How original," I muttered sarcastically.

"Sorry, my pretty, but I'm not at mercy to tell you my real name," Undertaker guffawed.

"Well, can you at least tell me what's so damn funny?" I interrogated.

"Nope, that's also classified," he chuckled.

"Sebastian, why are we here?" I demanded of my mainly quiet boyfriend.

"Hold on just a second, love," he affirmed, brushing my bangs out of my restive and agitated eyes. I just hated that he was taking so long to get to the point.

"Undertaker, I believe you might hold some information for us," Sebastian called out.

My boy builds coffins with hammers and nails

He doesn't build ships, he has no use for sails.

He doesn't make tables, dressers or chairs

He can't carve a whistle cause he just doesn't care

"Kufufu, what would you like to know?" Undertaker leapt around the room and carefully placed the skull on top of an urn.

Sebastian turned to me and gave me a quick clarification. "Undertaker is an information broker as well as running a funeral parlor and is one of the best sources for details on the lives of people in the underground world."

"But what do I have to do with people in the underground?" I queried.

"You did say your parents were murdered, didn't you?" He responded.

"Oh, I guess I did."

Sebastian returned to face Undertaker. "Seul, here, is trying to trace the identities of her parents, of whom were liquidated seventeen years ago. I realize it's vague, but would you happen to have anything about it?"

Undertaker turned his head and thought pensively. "Well, I do know a few things, some of them I am at liberty to tell you, some not. But that all depends on whether you pay me or not."

My boy builds coffins for the rich and the poor

Kings and queens have all knocked on his door

Beggars and liars, gypsies and thieves

They all come to him 'cause he's so eager to please

I gulped. "Pay? I'm sorry, I didn't bring much money, but I'll try to do what I can."

This made the funeral director erupt in rapturous laughter. "Money? You can't pay me with money!"

This only made me even more edgy. "Then…What do you need to be paid with?" I feared the worst, not knowing what he would say next.

"Why, laughter, of course," Undertaker spoke and cracked a grin at me.

I breathed a sigh of relief. But then again, I got kind of agitated. "Haven't I already given you enough of that to have a supple amount of information?"

Undertaker pondered the thought for a moment. "I perceive that you're probably right. I'll let you off easy on just this one time."

"Well, good," I stated bitterly.

"Okay then, Whitewood Cemetery," Undertaker answered. "Your friend there should know the way."

A confused expression crossed Sebastian's face. "Yes, I do. But what would we need from there?"

"Kufufu, I guess you'll just have to find out," Undertaker giggled.

My boy builds coffins, he makes them all day

But it's not just for work, and it isn't for play

He's made one for himself, one for me too

One of these days, he'll make one for you

I hopped in the car and immediately got to questioning Sebastian. "So, are we going there now? And why have you been there before?"

Sebastian stared indifferently at the road and started the engine. "No, it's too late to go there now. It's about an hour and a half drive there, around three hours by carriage."

"Carriage?" I asked confoundedly. "How would you know that?"

"As I've said before," Sebastian responded. "I've lived in London a very long time."

"Hm, and as for my second question?"

"I don't know what Undertaker's getting at," he admitted. "But I have a sinking feeling that your parents' deaths are linked to an earlier contract I had."

"Oh goody! Ghosts of Contracts past!" I exclaimed.

"Don't get too excited," Sebastian warned. "If what I think is right, then this story is going to get quite a bit more complicated."

"Remember, Sebastian, you still only have thirty days to accomplish this task. No more, no less," I repeated.

"Ah, I am quite sure of the timeline, Seul," he guaranteed me.

"Alright, I was just making sure."

Ah yes, it's short. Painfully so. But don't worry. I just wanted to get this out to you guys before I go back to school tomorrow and become busy again.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, "Eyes Open" by Taylor Swift, or "My Boy Builds Coffins" by Florence & the Machine.