Chapter 5: Secrets of a Servant's Diary
''Sir, exactly why are we doing this?''
Vincent was lurking around the servant's quarters with Tanaka following closely behind him. The young earl was still curious about Sebastian, and it was plain to him that there was something his servant was hiding. He'd decided to look through the servant's room, while Sebastian had been put to work polishing the silver.
''Let me just find something to tease him with.'' Vincent said to Tanaka, ''I'm starting to enjoy our little games and poking fun at each other. Let me just find one little thing to egg him on with and we'll leave and Sebastian will never know.''
Tanaka nodded and hung back by the door of Sebastian's bedchambers while Vincent searched through the room. He ultimately found nothing but the clothes the estate provided for him. But on his writing desk sat a perfectly ordinary-looking journal, one Vincent hadn't recalled Sebastian ever using. It was dirty and ragged; like it'd been through Hell and back. Possessed by a demon, though, that might have been the situation.
Vincent sat down at the writing desk and opened the diary. The handwriting in it was neat, but appeared to have been written with something aside from a quill and ink.
Dear Diary,
I'm not sure how I landed in this situation, but it's awful. The world of human trafficking is a sick and disgusting. I realize that things are no better in my own realm, but to see it done to children and . . . well, people like myself by middle-aged men. I think I'd much rather be dead.
Dear Diary,
I've been sold to the man I've contracted. A demon forced to be some old rat's sex slave . . . Yes, I'd much rather be dead. I don't catch much of a break, and when I do is when I'm writing. Let's hope this ends soon.
The next passage was dated months later and the handwriting was sloppier.
Dear Diary,
It hurts. Everything hurts. I don't even know if my master's soul will be worth it. It's like I'm not even a living being in his eyes. I should kill him and put myself out of my misery, but that would go against our contract. Betrayal is something I've never stooped to- something I think no person should stoop to- but to be this old man's plaything is disgusting.
Vincent read . . . and read . . . and read . . .
Abuse, neglect, pedophiles, and every other taboo of the human world were dealt out. It made Vincent put the journal down and think for a moment. How did a man like Sebastian end up in a situation like that?
It made him shudder.
Vincent picked up the journal once again and flipped to passages that had been written while he was working at the manor.
Dear Diary,
I have to say I'm not at all pleased with becoming a servant again, but I can say that my treatment by Vincent Phantomhive is much better than that of my previous master; by millions. Tanaka is a good man, as well. He's taught me some things in the lines of service I hadn't thought about. This should be interesting.
Dear Diary,
I know I'm not one to document my deepest, darkest secrets or express whatever feelings I've been allowed to feel, but I think I'll do it just this once.
This afternoon, Vincent and I were talking in the library. He had found his father's old family ring; a blue diamond that apparently hasn't been worn at all in the late earl's time. Well, I was telling him about the ring when he put it on, and then he slipped it off and tossed it to me and asked me to try it on.
I know none of this has anything to do with my feelings, so I'll get right to the point I felt a bit attached to Vincent. I'm not saying it's love or anything . . . Well, I wouldn't know. I don't know what love is. I care for him a great deal, how about that?
That was where Vincent closed the diary.