AN: This is pretty much when I started shipping them, so a tribute was definitely necessary! Thanks so much to those who reviewed so far, it means the world to me! Please enjoy! P.S. This is heavily influenced by the anime, so, sorry if it sounds repetitive.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, because if I did, these two would be together by now.
Please R&R! Thanks!
Chapter Four: Riddle
"Another prostitute has been found gruesomely murdered in White Chapel. The violence exerted on the bodies has caused the general public to refer to the killer as Jack the Ripper," my master said, expressionless as always. "The Queen is concerned for the safety of her people, and has told me to put an end to these crimes."
I handed him a cup of Earl Grey and proceeded in offering the same hospitality to his guests. Lau, an associate of the young master, and Madam Red were crowded around him in the drawing room. They were trying to convince him the authorities could handle the case without him, to no avail.
Grell Sutcliff, Madam Red's butler, was trying be useful by unskilfully dusting the bookshelf. Or should I say, merely rearranging the air above the bookshelf, since I had previously taken care of the dust that was there. I stepped around the cabinet, making sure not to grimace as I made my way to Madam Red.
"As usual, my darling little nephew is caught in such...unpleasant business," Madam Red sighed as she accepted the beverage. She threw him an anxious glance as she rotated the teacup on its saucer. Master took no notice of her crestfallen features. Instead, he calmly took a sip of his own tea, and announced that he was heading into town to see the crime scene for himself.
There was a muffled chuckle as Lau stood up, "Are you sure about that, little Earl? You are a child after all," he taunted, "A scene like that can make even a grown men's blood run cold."
"I am the head of the Phantomhive household, here in service of her Majesty the Queen. Don't ask me foolish questions," master replied, trying to mask the annoyance from his voice. I gave the master a sharp nod, commending his effort to shrug off Lau's insult in a dignified fashion.
Nearly three years had passed before I had established a permanent position beside my master. During this time, I helped him rebuild his family's reputation and allowed his 'Funtom Company' to expand and flourish. I taught him to ease his way back into the aristocratic world he was born into, teaching him the customs of noblemen. Despite being a child, his status elevated, allowing him power, and bringing him closer to the revenge he sought. His name was soon feared by those in the underworld, as he regained his ties to the Royal family, and earned the title of the Queen's Guard dog.
I became his very capable butler, one fitting of the Phantomhive name. We never truly parted, as it was never necessary, and I grew accustomed to being at his side. My duties involved working around his life in such a way that I did not interfere or stand out. The desire to possess him grew as he did, increasing each moment I spent with him. Standing patiently by his side, I eagerly awaited the day I would be able to consume his soul. I was foolish to believe that was all I was after.
A few days ago, my master received a letter from the Queen about the Ripper case. Upon the request of Her Majesty, we headed to his London mansion to investigate. He willingly travelled to London, despite the fact that carriage rides always left him feeling under the weather. As her Guard Dog, he was in charge of solving crimes linked with underground criminal activity. It was a job which entailed stopping repeated crimes and removing ties the Royal family had with those unsavory situations.
After going to town and falling short of any leads, we headed to the Undertaker's shop to acquire more information. Undertaker was another affiliate of the young master, who owned the only funeral parlor in England. All cadavers were examined in his shop before their burial service. It was a small, dingy place with coffins lining the walls, and jars of unknown remains filling the shelves. The smell of incense bathed the room, making it feel stuffier than it should.
As we entered the shop, I noticed the owner's absence. Surely he wasn't trying to frighten the young master again.
"Hehehee..." a menacing voice snickered, adding to the eeriness of the room. A creak from a coffin lid sounded as our eccentric host emerged from the casket, sufficiently startling our companions.
"I was expecting you. My lord, it's lovely to see you again...tell me, do I finally have the pleasure of fitting you for one of m' coffins today?" he asked, inching closer to the boy.
Master rolled his eyes, unfazed by the Undertaker's theatrics. "No, you know very well why I'm here..." Undertaker brushed a long, boney finger against the boy's mouth, silencing him. An unsettling feeling came upon me, the unnecessary want to sweep his hand away, but I disregarded it.
"No need to say, I'm already veeery aware why you're here. You want some information on the dead bodies, am I right? Yes, my recent customers have been coming in with missing pieces…" he trailed, "Well, you know what I seek in return."
"Ah, I see," Lau stood up, collecting himself from the earlier shock of meeting Undertaker. "So this parlor is only your cover business? How much is it for information?"
"I have no need for the Queen's coins. There is only one thing I want from you. Please my Lord," he begged, turning back to my master. He purposely invaded his space to make him uncomfortable, and cupped the earl's face in his hands.
"Give it to me, and I'll tell you anything!" He begged energetically, "Give me the extraordinary gift of true laughter! Just one joke, and all the information is yours!"
I tried to stifle a chuckle when I heard the master mutter 'lunatic'.
And so, the master's companions each took their turn to get a laugh out of the Undertaker. After Lau's rather nonsensical riddle, Madam Red's pointless gossip, and Grell's timid pun, the Undertaker grew tired and practically taped their mouths shut. Motioning to my master, he looked at him imploringly.
"Now, my Lord. It looks like you're the only one left," he smiled. Master shifted his feet, a nervous tick of his whenever he was caught off guard. His brows furrowed and I could tell he was recalling every joke he had ever heard. The earl scanned the room, avoiding the pressure filled gazes. We waited patiently for him to speak, and when nothing came out, I reached into my pocket to check the time. As I thought, it was already half past noon. We were very behind schedule. It was best to end this quickly, and get on with our day.
Taking things into my own hands, I cleared my throat and declared, "It can't be helped."
"Sebastian?" master questioned, wondering why I was doing something without being given an order.
"Everyone, please wait outside. No matter what happens, do not attempt to listen to this," I instructed as I forced them out the door.
The Undertaker's sense of humour was very dry indeed. His thirst for laughter could be quelled by everyday talk and simple magic tricks. During our 'visits', he was the one who found a way to amuse himself through the conversations or rhymes provided. I had planned a perfect quip to tell, but I certainly did not want my master to hear such profanity.
"A dirty limerick. There once was a woman from cue, who filled her vi-"
"It's good the Earl has someone who is willing to go to such extremes for him," Undertaker interjected, and while his silver hair covered his eyes, I could feel him scrutinizing me carefully.
"Do tell me, Butler: why is a demon serving a boy?"
How odd. He knew.
"You are aware of my circumstance? As expected, you are also not from this world. Another reaper like Sutcliff, are you?" It didn't shock me the tiniest bit that the Undertaker was not human. It seemed my master had a knack of allowing otherworldly beings into his life.
"My, my, Butler. Explain to me, why do all this for a child? I know it has been nearly three years and you have yet to feast on a single soul. You have chosen not to take any of the souls which have presented themselves to you, but why? Is his soul really that important? What exactly does he mean to you?" he questioned, grin widening.
"The only soul I need is my young master's. No one else's." I realized how accurate this well-rehearsed response was. After years with him, I decided that no other soul could compare to his. No matter how hungry I was, how weak I would become if I did not consume another, it did not matter to me. Only his extraordinary soul would do. I did not need any other, not until his was a part of me. What other reason would there be?
"You say that, and yet... hehehe... it's clear that you too, are oblivious to the answer. Riddle me this, what is your true incentive for staying by his side? It's unnatural, even for the most patient of demons. Normally after creating a contract, your kind get bored and leave. They go off and create a contract with another poor soul, waiting for their original master to die. You are unlike the others who use dirty tricks to speed up the process of their master's death before gobbling them up. You, Butler, refuse to."
He paused, a broad smile forming on his face, "Could it be that even you don't know why you feel such...loyalty to the boy? Hehehe... Oh, Butler, you're looking almost flustered now... tell me, heheh...did I hit... hehehehe... a nerve? AHAHAHHAHAHAH!" he laughed uncontrollably at an expression I've never made before: confusion.
"Well, I have succeeded in making you laugh as promised. I'm afraid, however, that I have had quite enough of this. My master is waiting."
I promptly composed myself, plastering a smile across my face. Upon opening the door, I announced that I was finished, and let the others back in.
"Oh my... Hehehe… I've now seen the face of ultimate bliss..." I heard Undertaker snicker.
My master eyed me cautiously as he walked in. Suddenly, something stirred within my chest. Hunger, I presumed. The others sat down, and together with Undertaker, started to discuss the details of each murder.
"...missing ovaries...must have some degree of medical knowledge..."
While I was expected to pay attention, my mind seemed to slip in and out of the conversation. What was the Undertaker planning, asking me such meaningless questions?
'Why do all this for a boy?'
I had never asked myself why I stayed with the young master. Truth be told, I never followed an individual for so long. The longest contract I had previously, lasted a mere six months before I became bored of waiting. Maybe my master was so entertaining to watch that I found myself unable to look away, or end the contract.
Or perhaps it was only because the life he had given me, while challenging and rhythmic at times, was much more interesting than any of the lives I have had before. This one had more meaning, and I was almost thankful to him for that. Still, there was something about this contract that made it different from most. True, I craved his soul more than anything, so much so that I was willing to starve for it, and exert a rare amount of patience towards him. And I suppose other demons did not act like this towards their meals, but his soul was so unlike any I had ever met before, and I was unwilling to let it go so easily.
. . .
"Explain to me why I am dressed like this?" My master demanded, flustered by his attire. His face reddened with embarrassment as he tugged on the finely crafted wig adorning his head. The sleek lock of black hair retracted, bouncing back into the perfect ringlet, which only added to his bitterness.
We were following our only lead in the Ripper case. Our suspect, the Viscount Druitt, was throwing the final, lavish party of the season. He was the only one with enough medical knowledge to extract ovaries from a body, and was always in town when the killings occurred. What's more, he was known for being involved with the occult, and had no alibis during the times of the homicides.
In order to swiftly infiltrate his house in search of evidence, the master went undercover as Madam Red's niece. Since the Viscount was easily taken by 'any pretty thing in a dress', the master was wearing a one of a kind, pink, frilly evening gown tailored specifically for him. Surprisingly the garments suited him perfectly. He looked…endearing…if I were so bold to say.
His mortified expression made it all the more enjoyable to tease him. So, while searching for the Viscount, and hiding from Lady Elizabeth, the young master's fiancée, I decided to add to his humiliation by offering my hand, and dancing the Waltz with him.
Although I was one hell of a dancer, even I could not stop him from constantly stepping on my toes. In spite of it, I was still enjoying myself much more than I should have. The same, hungry feeling from earlier came, but I ignored it. Now was not the time to get distracted by trifling details. We danced until the master was out of breath, and I thought it somewhat unfortunate how quickly exhausted he became.
When he was finally able to speak to the Viscount, I created a distraction for the other guests. I took my eye off him for just a second to provide him with enough time to question the Viscount, but when I turned around, they were both gone. How could he, in such a short amount of time, get himself into so much trouble?
Knowing that he was useless without me, I rushed to his aid, perturbed by the fact that he was so defenseless. Tracking his scent to the basement of a grand, abandoned building, I was bemused to find that he was, once again, trapped in a cage. When I saw him under the spotlight, blindfolded and unharmed, I breathed a sigh of relief. He was unconscious, but at least he wasn't in any immediate danger. I decided to sit back until he gave me an order. After all, it was his fault for being so vulnerable to these situations. Perhaps this experience will be enough to finally teach him a lesson.
Hidden by the shadows, I watched as several females around the master's age were auctioned off to the highest bidder. They were indeed attractive young ladies, however they did not fit the type that Jack the Ripper sought. Hopefully the young master would be able to figure that part out for himself.
I sensed him regain consciousness and discern what had happened to him. He commanded me to save him, so I quickly blew out the candles and rendered everyone unconscious. When all was said and done, he ordered me to bring him back to his London home, where I helped him take off his feminine garments, all the while chuckling at the lengths he would go to serve the Queen. I gave him a well-deserved bath, and allowed him to rest.
He slept peacefully that night, thinking he had figured everything out. What a foolish boy he was to have overlooked the blaring facts. It was out of his own convenience that he forced certain circumstantial evidence to fit the Viscount instead of looking for the real killer. So, that night, when he so cockily declared the case closed, I kept quiet. I waited until morning, when he woke up to find the Ripper still at large, to enjoy his frustration.
. . .
I believed the master knew Viscount Druitt was not the real murderer. But, for the sake of saving what little sanity he had left, he refused to admit it to himself. Regardless of the fact I knew who the culprits were from the start, I did not wish to tell him. Was it odd that I wanted to protect him from the knowledge of it?
He must be the one to decide whether to help or incarcerate the killers. I was indifferent to his decision, but I would not go against him if his will was to turn a blind eye and protect what was dear to him. To lose someone else close to him would probably be too much to bear. I was positive that he would choose to save his family, since it was only human instinct to do so. However, my master was stronger than that. He was determined to follow the path of justice, to obey the Queen's orders, knowing it would mean losing his aunt.
He knew that the killer would strike again, and so we loitered about the town, waiting for the chance to catch him in the act. A woman's shriek shattered any hope of allowing the boy to live in the finite peace he had found. We rushed to the voices, and my master saw the frightful scene for himself. I quickly covered his eyes, thinking that it was too much for him to handle. I proved to be right, as the contents of his stomach found their way to the ground.
But my master was not weak, and he insisted on seeing it. He pulled away from me, feasting his eyes on the blood stained walls, the dismembered corpse, and coming face to face with Jack the Ripper: Madam Red and her reaper butler, Grell Sutcliff.
If he was surprised, he concealed it well because he ordered me to end them without giving it a second thought.
As Grell began attacking me with a chainsaw-like death scythe, I kept my eye on my master. He hadn't moved since Madam Red confessed to her crimes. While I was caught up in my own battle, I couldn't help but get distracted by the motionless boy who was just standing there, allowing Madam Red's deceitful words to seep into his head. If he were to draw his gun and kill his aunt, this would all be over. I dodge the attacks of the chainsaw, but as I glanced over to check on the master, Grell took that opportunity to strike me from above. I caught the blade between my hands just in time, but found myself trapped. In the corner of my eye, I saw that my young master also had his back against the wall. Madam Red raised her hand, knife aimed towards her nephew's heart.
"MASTER!" I inadvertently yelled. Before she was able to hurt him, I pushed my way past Grell, the scythe grazing my arm. And although such a wound wouldn't normally affect me, I was not immune to a reaper's weapon. Instantaneously I was behind Madam Red, ready to end her life, when the master cried out,
"Stop it, Sebastian! Don't kill her!" I froze, and retracted my working arm.
"Ohh how sweet you are Bassy. Really, what a prince, sacrificing your own poor limb for that little boy," Grell scoffed. I thought to myself how foolish I was to worry. Even if I didn't run to the earl's rescue, more likely than not, he would still be fine. He was equipped with a gun after all, and it was obvious that Madam Red was reluctant to kill him. She was having an argument with herself, one leading her to the brink of insanity.
"On the other hand, Madam, you disappoint me. Hurry up and kill the brat already," Grell chided.
Madam Red looked at my master, conflicted by the memories and love they shared.
"I can't..." she pleaded, unable to take her eyes off the boy, "I can't kill him... I can't kill their beloved son... this dear boy... this is my..."
There was a distinct sound of a revving chainsaw, the grumbling of a finely tuned machine, and, without a pause, the reaper thrusted it into Madam Red's chest.
"Too late for that," Grell sighed uncaringly. "What use are you to me if you're just another woman?"
Madam Red dropped to the alley floor, exhaling her final breath as her cinematic records began to play.
I had never seen a human's record before, and after witnessing it now, felt as if I was invading her privacy. In them, I was able to see her past...as well as bits and pieces of my master's. I thought I was the only one who could get a rise out of the boy, but looking through her memories and seeing what a carefree child he once was…while he could never revert to the same person, maybe he will be able to show me that expression once again. And without noticing it sooner, I realized that was all I wanted.
My master knelt down and affectionately closed Madam's eyes.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" he whispered nonchalantly. "I told you to put an end to Jack the Ripper. It's not over yet, there is one still left. Stop standing there, Sebastian!"
"Certainly," I smiled. How very like my master to be so calm, even amidst all the commotion.
Grell lunged towards me, but I was quick enough to leap out of the way.
"He just saw his aunt die right before his eyes, and yet he's so aloof and apathetic, almost like a reaper! Wouldn't you say, Bassy?" I evaded the sharp strikes of the object, aiming to kick a face when I could.
"My, my... you seem to care a lot about the boy. You know, I'm kind of jealous! Say, Bassy, why not leave the little brat and live happily ever after with me?" Grell grinned, temporarily stopping to blow me a kiss.
After avoiding another fatal hit, I realized how tired I was of these reapers and their all knowing attitudes. Now was about the right time to end this. After all, my master had just experienced a very troubling affair, and it was far past his bedtime.
"There was one technique that I absolutely did not want to use...but I have no other choice," I sighed, slipping off the tailcoat master had purchased for me earlier. It was a fairly expensive one, and I was disappointed that it was already beyond repair.
"So at last you're gonna fight me seriously. Shall we send the curtain down with the next blow? I'll miss you terribly, but perhaps we'll meet again... farewell, Bassy!" Grell ran towards me, recklessly swinging the scythe, as I jumped into the air, throwing my tailcoat towards it. I laughed internally when my plan succeeded. The fabric of my coat was caught between the teeth of the chainsaw, disabling it. As Grell tried to untangle the mess, I took the opportunity to repay the beating I received earlier. Becoming rather bored of this fight, I decided to end it using the prized reaper scythe in my hand. I went in for the kill, only to be abruptly interrupted by another reaper.
William T. Spears, he called himself.
He offered his apologies for Grell's destructive behaviour, reluctantly bowing his head in the process. Dragging Grell behind, William walked away, quickly disappearing into the night. When I could no longer sense their presence, I turned back to my master.
"I apologize, my Lord, I let one half of Jack the Ripper escape." I was sincerely sorry that I was not able to execute my own personal revenge on that insolent reaper.
"It's fine," he shrugged, waving me off. He was still crouched down and staring at the body. I noticed he had covered it with his own cloak, and was shivering from being exposed to the elements. I allowed myself to place the back of my hand against his cheek, feeling the numbness of the bitten skin.
"Master, you are chilled to the bone. Let's get you home, and I'll whip you up some warm milk and honey," I offered.
"Alright," was his meek reply.
. . .
After his aunt's funeral, I wasn't sure how to comfort the boy. He seemed so lost, so unlike himself. He was as cold as he was before, but it seemed as if his resolve had been shaken. It disappointed me that he could be so easily affected by death. This was not the sort of master I wanted to serve.
While I was under the impression that he regretted not being able to save his aunt, he denied it, even going so far to say that it was her own fault she died. He explained that he stopped me from killing her because he knew that she did not have the audacity to kill him. Madam Red made a mistake that costed her, her life; a minuscule error that he would be sure never to make. Because, if he did, that would mean the end to our little game.
"You shall never betray me. You shall never leave my side, no matter what. That is an order!" he declared with a haughty smirk. Likewise, I found myself eager to obey. I was wrong to doubt him. After all, I have chosen an exceptional master for myself.
He returned to his normal self after that. Still, I was wary of him. To stop him from sulking, I spoiled him for the next few days. I allowed him to eat the sweets he wanted, carried out all his paper work for him, and excused him from the dance lessons he found so vexing. However, he did not need such generous treatment. His brief mourning period for his beloved aunt was concerning, but he turned down the need to discuss the matter further, so I too, let it go.
And then, soon after, I understood what was so different. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't the young master who had changed. Maybe...
What exactly does he mean to you?
Maybe, it was me.
