Hooves were clattering across cobble stone as they pulled along carriages in teams of one or two. London had come a long way since the time of Undertaker and Lila. Undertaker still worked in the shop of his youth. After he was blinded by the tunnel of white light, he hadn't seen his love again.
London had tamed the forest that once ruled it, and now it was a fast-paced and fast-growing city. Undertaker stayed in the back alleys, where all the old or undesirable buildings were. Most had tried to change with the times, but not Undertaker's. He still had his old sign that never could stay up, his same clothes and hair, which he only cut when it really got in his way. Through the decades, love and company had come and gone. The young Phantomhive boy, Ciel, only came to visit when he wanted something from his old informant, not that Undertaker really minded. He liked the silence and solitude of the eternal life he lived. He did work with the Shinigami for a long, long time, but after all the noise and inane busywork, he had gotten bored, and gone back to his childhood calling. He didn't get out much, but sometimes he did go to visit Lila. In fact, he was going to go today, once the streets cleared away a little. The sky was dark, and warned of rain, which would clear the streets of the pedestrians once it started.
Walking to the door, Undertaker put on a long trench coat, and picked up his umbrella. He opened it once he was outside, locked his store, and rested the thin metal bar on his shoulder. People were already scurrying to find shelter from the rain. Nary a glance was spared as Undertaker walked in the opposite direction, going right towards the oncoming storm.
After walking for about an hour, he came to the gates of the Lonwic family. The gates were still as polished as ever. With the owners too old now to go down and clean the gates themselves, sometimes people from the town came to do it for them.
The gate was easy to open. It wasn't locked, since the gate was not high enough to deter robbers from climbing over it, locking it was just a waste.
Undertaker opened the gate gently, long and pale fingers tipped by black fingernails curled around the bar to push it open. He turned down a dirt path that led to a stream downhill from the house. The rain had already begun, but it wasn't that heavy. By the time he was halfway to the stream, the rain had become large and cold drops. At the side of the stream, Undertaker dropped to his knees so he could speak to his love,
"You know you can always talk to me, right? I know we've grown a lot since then, especially me. Neither of us are the same anymore, are we?"
He laughed and answered his own question,
"No, I didn't think so. You will always be here, right? You won't leave. I won't leave either."
Saying those words, Undertaker removed the umbrella from his shoulder. He placed the handle on the ground so the rain would just slide off, and leaned the thin metal bar up against the tombstone.
