Ciel rapidly tapped his fingers on the flimsy desk's surface. He couldn't believe any school would budget writing tables so poor in structure, but this seemed to be a particularly good day for disbelief. The class of people three years his senior murmured and buzzed; Ciel felt their eyes turning to rest on him many a time. Still, he had to count his blessings: at least he'd managed to get away from Soma. The moment Ciel entered the classroom he'd made a dive for the back row of desks. He doubted Soma could even see him back here.

At the front of the room, Sebastian silently wrote on a long whiteboard. He appeared to be drawing a timeline, dated from ten thousand BCE to about two thousand CE. No one paid him any heed. In the corner of the board, scripted in perfectly aligned letters, read the label, 'History of Great Britain'.

Self-consciousness settled around Ciel's shoulders like an extremely uncomfortable jacket. The juniors were shameless in their poking, prodding, glaring, anything to tease a response from him. Ciel could do nothing but blame Sebastian over and over again for sticking him in this classroom. That man just couldn't help himself when it came to making his ward's life miserable.

Suddenly, a short burst of clapping sounded from the head of the class. Attention turned to the teacher, who Ciel now noticed had donned a pair of glasses.

"Good afternoon," Greeted the Englishman, "and welcome to eleventh grade English literature. I am your instructor, Mister Michaelis- though you may call me Sebastian."

"Now, before we begin there are a few matters I would like to discuss." Sebastian said. He retrieved an item from his desk that must have been a pointer, but looked suspiciously like a riding crop.

"First and foremost," Sebastian began firmly, "I have been hired to teach; therefore I expect you to learn. You will come to class in a timely manner, you will bring the required materials, and you will be seated when the lesson begins."

"Like hell," Whispered a voice behind Ciel.

Sebastian paused and narrowed his eyes in Ciel's direction. Ciel repressed a shiver.

The Englishman resumed, tossing the pointer between his hands playfully, as though testing its weight: "I've never been a lenient teacher. I will not tolerate late work or excuses, but even more so-"

"Hardass."

"Psycho."

Ciel tried not to smirk as Sebastian blanched. The little Phantomhive was used to his caretaker's enhanced senses; they were a strange talent of his, in fact. Sebastian's hearing and sight were both beyond excellent. Ciel wondered how much more abuse their instructor would take before he snapped.

Sebastian waited for the muttering to die out before finishing, "-even more so, I will not tolerate a disorganized classroom. I expect each of your mouths to be shut while mine is open, understood?"

He received no response other than sullen silence. Sebastian adjusted his spectacles and wiped the irritation from his face.

"Perfect. Shall we begin?"

Unfortunately, the level of interest Sebastian secured from his students at the initiation of the class dropped substantially the moment he started to teach. The edge of his pointer connected with the board with a soft 'click'.

Sebastian's lesson commenced:

"As one of the oldest countries in the world, Great Britain possesses a rich and cultured history. Can anyone tell me approximately when that history began?"

A hand went up at the front of the room, successfully drawing Sebastian's attention away from Ciel's talkative neighbors.

Ciel watched his guardian teach from a distance, somewhat awed. He'd always known Sebastian to be a severe person, but as a teacher he seemed even more professional. Seeing him whip the boisterous classroom into quiet submission almost made Ciel feel...proud.

"Hey,"

A tapping sensation on Ciel's arm brought his gaze down, where a junior's fingers grasped the edge of his shirt. Ciel looked into the boy's face.

"You a new kid?"

Before Ciel could answer, two other whispers voiced themselves:

"He's way too young to be in his third year of high school."

"Maybe he's a super genius or something?"

"I assure you that's not the case, Mister Anstic." Sebastian remarked loudly from the first row of desks. Ciel's eyebrows rose as the boy seated to his left coughed discreetly.

"Now if you don't mind..."

With the student's perceived permission, Sebastian turned back to his writing. The dry-erase marker in his hand squeaked terribly as it printed, as though being pressed too snugly against the board.

One-thirty English Literature continued uninterrupted for about fifteen minutes. It was in the heat of a discussion concerning ancient druids and pagans that the whispers kicked up again.

"You know, he looks sort of like Mister Michaelis."

"Think they're related?"

"Oh my god, what if he's his son?"

A sudden crack snapped through the room like a gunshot. Instantly, the students faced forward, each white with fear.

Sebastian had broken his pointer.

"I would have you know that I am not Ciel Phantomhive's father."

The hush sagged with tension as several pairs of brows knitted together.

"However," Mister Michaelis trailed off. He hesitated and took a moment to remove his glasses, "As you are all so infernally curious about us, I will admit to being his half-brother."

Ciel's jaw dropped and a storm of murmurs swept the class. The boy's skin heated and his eyes grew wide. What was that blasted fool doing?

"It's true," Sebastian's voice quieted the others, as everyone was eager to hear more, "I was thirteen when my father passed away. A year later, my mother remarried and bore a son."

Mortification boiled in Ciel's blood as a couple of girls cooed affectionately. He swore his face must've turned purple by now, as livid as he was. If there were six sets of eyes on him before, there were triple that amount now.

"Mister Phantomhive suffered an allergy attack about thirty-five minutes ago," Sebastian proceeded, cleaning his lenses with his fingers, "So I had Mister Kadar look after him for this period. It was pure happenstance that Kadar was scheduled to take my subject next."

The hisses morphed into voices and questions. Sebastian gave the students their slack and allowed them several minutes to gossip amongst themselves. He leaned against the teacher's table and sighed. Meanwhile, Ciel threw his head on his desk and covered it with his arms. His only comfort was that no one could see his face-, which was a good thing, as he was now seriously considering wearing a paper bag for the rest of the year.

"So, now that I've assuaged your curiosity," The English teacher said, replacing his glasses and straightening to full height, "Perhaps we might return to the topic at hand."

Whether it was respect for Sebastian's honest, or the fact that there was nothing more to speculate on, the classroom was much quieter for the remainder of the lesson. There was one short row in which the class was nearly hijacked by an obnoxiously noisy pupil, but Sebastian was swift to quell the chaos with threats of twenty-four page essays.

Eventually the hands on the clock swung around and day one of eleventh grade English Lit came to its conclusion.

"Are there any questions?" Asked Sebastian as he screwed the cap onto his dry erase marker.

No one had any.

"Very well. Dismissed."

The students rose from their seats in a cacophony of squeaks and groans. However, Sebastian had one more thing to say before he allowed anyone to leave:

"Oh, and no Miss Magen, I am not married. Miss Lonski, I do not have a girlfriend. Yes, Miss Lay, people have told me before that my eyes are striking, and Miss Bowsman I cannot rightly say whether or not my ass is 'a sweet, hot little thing'."

Sebastian smiled innocently, "And yes, Miss Tores, the accent is natural."

Ciel couldn't help being impressed, and he almost burst out laughing when the called-out girls waddled by like a parade of tomatoes. A cruel notion, he realized, when he remembered the humiliation Sebastian had caused him personally during the period.

A devil, that's what he is, Ciel thought bitterly as he exited the classroom. A haughty, attention-seeking devil.

-TT-

"Is Mister Michaelis really your half-brother?" Soma wondered as he dragged Ciel to his next class, "Is that why you two are so close?"

"Yes, we share the same mother-" Ciel replied breathlessly, winded from the effort of swimming through the crowded hallway, "-Soma, wait!"

"Why?"

The Indian pulled to halt and frowned down at his companion, "We can't dally, Ciel. We'll be marked late."

"I shouldn't be following the eleventh grade curriculum," Ciel gasped, clutching his side, "I'm not even supposed to have English Lit this year."

"I promised Mister Michaelis I'd keep an eye on you." Soma argued.

"But I'm not in your class! And I can look after myself."

Soma let out a huff of frustration and snatched Ciel by the arm, "Hurry up or we'll be late."

"No, stop!" Ciel protested, thrashing about wildly in an attempt to escape, "This isn't right!"

"Be quiet and stop struggling! Professor Tanaka deducts half a grade for tardiness!"

"I'm not going through that again!"

"Ciel Phantomhive?"

Both students ceased battling and turned to stare. A young girl of average height approached with a somewhat bewildered expression.

"Er, yes?" Ciel fidgeted, faintly trying to remove Soma's hand from his collar.

"What are you doing?" Asked the newcomer in concern, "We have to get to Algebra, quickly."

"Oh!" Ciel exclaimed happily and ducked from Soma's grip, "You're in ninth grade, too?"

"Of course," The green-eyed female replied, "Don't you recognize me from homeroom? It's me, Lizzy."

Now that he thought about it, Ciel did recall seeing a pig-tailed blonde in class that morning. He'd borrowed a pen from her.

"Yes, that's right," Ciel agreed enthusiastically. He leapt forward and grabbed Lizzy's free hand, announcing, "We'd better get to our ninth grade Algebra class then, hadn't we, Lizzy?" He made certain to put special emphasis the latter portion of his proclamation.

The girl nodded, though her lip quivered with uncertainty.

"Cheers, Soma!"

Unfortunately, Ciel's victory and newfound freedom was short-lived. Only a few yards from the classroom a shoelace came undone and the little Phantomhive plummeted face-first into the ground.

"Ciel!" Lizzy gasped, stooping to help him.

"Go," Ciel told her earnestly, "I'll be fine. But I wouldn't want you to get marked late."

Lizzy seemed very unhappy, but she did as she was asked. Ciel scrambled to his feet and made a beeline for room two-twenty-seven.