Disclaimer: Don't own Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji). They won't let me buy it from them with just ten bucks. :C
I DO, however, own Aislin Bird. Thank everything above.

~Chapter Six~
~Assume Nothing and Leave with Vengeance~

Yet with a new dawn comes a new day, and with a new day there is always new things to learn... or accept.


"Is this all that could be found?" Ciel demanded, throwing down several papers on his desk, voice heavily coated in anger. Across the flat plane were folders, insides spilled across the mahogany, telling all that could be told. A newspaper clipping was atop all this, showing a photo of a man, woman and a young girl who looked a lot like five-year-old Aislin in back-in-white. The article spoke of a car crash, how only one, a young child, survived. "There is nothing of use here."

"I am sorry, Ciel." Sebastian, standing at Ciel's side yet behind him, spoke, voice level. "Miss Bird is a clear girl with an average life, there is not much to find."

The young boy leaned back in the chair, fist under his chin. "Possibly Grell did lie... the opposite of what you believe."

"I highly doubt such from the buffoon," replied the elder. "That thing would rather tell the truth to scare someone than lie to ease their pain. He has done it before, if you recall the summer of 1953?"

Ciel's mood dampened further, scowling ever so slightly in remembrance. "Yes. The year I decided if anyone were to kill him, it would be I." He stood from the high back chair, picking up the back-and-white photo as the sun began to rise, slanting across the room in shades of red, orange, and golden-yellow, high-lighting every inch in its path. It shone over Ciel's face, coloring his pale skin with the sun's morning rays. Holding up the picture, he smirked ever so slightly while the sun turned the paper tangible. "And Grell's given me a perfect reason to do so."


Opening her eyes to the morning light filtering into her shared bedroom, Aislin rolled over to face the wall to block out said light. One day I want to sleep in, and the dang sun has to... wait, when did I get here!? She bolted up, head barely missing the bottom of the top bunk, and looked around her room frantically, momentarily confused as to how she got to where she was.

Ciel never said good night, and she did not recall climbing up the side of the building using the ivy. So how...?

It was then, as she got out of bed, that everything came back. Her face lost all color and she put a hand to her mouth, eye clenching shut. No! She denied fiercely. Demons and Grim Reapers- especially Grim Reapers- don't exist! It's not possible!

The girl shook her head, a tiny whimper of confusion escaping her lips. This was not a field she was familiar with. Yes, she went to church- it was an orphanage run by nuns, she had to go- and was familiar with all that, but did you expect her to believe Reapers were real? And demons who did not corrupt souls upon meeting? No. It was too far fetched!

A tiny voice in her head seemed to whisper, Then tell me how that man in red just suddenly pulled out a chainsaw? It wasn't just a magic trick.

Aislin grabbed at her hair, sitting back down on her bed heavily. She was nuts! It was just a dream, it had to be! She had fallen asleep and they decided to let her sleep, that is all! Then why do I feel as if it all happened? She wondered without thinking. Why do my arms hurt as if someone had gripped them so hard it feels like someone took a knife to them?

She clamped down on her mind when these thoughts entered it, curling up on her bed, pulling the blanket over her body as she contemplated everything in as clear a thought process she had, even when she did not want to do so. Oh, how Aislin hated things not being how she expected it, it took away her sense of comfort.

How she would hate the days to come.


Ciel sipped at the tea, not really tasting it for once in his life, staring impassively at the door to the back porch, waiting for Aislin to appear like an apparition like she usually did, hiding his hidden concern. He had never expected the very night he planned to tell her what he and Sebastian were to go so wrong that Grell would show up, claiming she had to die for knowing Ciel. Now he was sure she would never return and be taken away be the two men whom Grell had spoken of, just to dampen Ciel's own mood further than it usually was, and now here he sat three days later after planning something terrible, waiting for the one person he knew would not show up. Who never would ever again.

The door creaked suddenly and the boy about dropped the cup, sitting up straighter, expecting his thoughts to be wrong. The door opened further and out came...

Sebastian.

Not even hiding the angered, animalistic growl, he threw the cup at the tall, black haired male, who barely caught the cup as the tea flew in all directions. Sebastian rose an eyebrow as the younger sunk lower in the seat. Mere seconds later, the elder chuckled deeply, earning a dark scowl and angry pinkish eyes cutting through him.

"It seems you've finally," the male spoke with a certain degree of contempt, "come to admit you care for the child without saying."

"I do not!" Ciel snapped savagely, hands clenching tightly as he stood, her reaction to everything last night played in his mind again. "That insufferable thing just angers me by not being as truly open as she proclaimed!" A twinge of pain n his hands alerted him to puncturing his palms, the melody of her concern playing again to him. "Ciel, your hand..."

Sebastian gave the boy a concerned look, no longer amused. "Ciel, she never promised such things. You seemed to have assu-"

"I assumed nothing!" The boy shouted, locking his lips when he realized he was showing weakness. Glaring at the ground, eyes a dangerously darker shade of the glowing pink hue, voice sharply toned and emotionless, ordering, "Leave."

The other seemed to want to protest, but was cut off by the order again.

"Leave!"

Begrudgingly, the man turned and left, back tensed, clearly displeased.

Ciel stood in silence for some time, ignoring the pain in his hands that usually he never felt, unwilling to throw a tantrum he knew was begging to come forth. He wasn't that kind of person, not even when he was still human. He would not become that kind now, even with the knowledge no one would hear he angry screams and shouts.

What was an upset demon to do when the first person in almost a hundred years he had spoken to that was human decided he was evil?


In the late evening sun, Aislin sat under the large oak tree within the orphanage's large gates, knees up towards the sky so her pad could rest on them, charcoal pencil resting in her hand. Her ink black hair was in a messy bun, several curled strands falling in her glossy hazel eyes, baggy plaid shirt with its sleeves pushed up to her forearms, pockets of her baggy jeans smeared with charcoal, old Vans partly covered by the faded jean material. A hushed whimper left her lips as she furiously moved over the pale paper, slowly bringing to life an impassive young boy and bright young girl, a tall man with a sickly-sweet smile written on his face standing behind them, trio encased in the jungle of a wild growing garden with high wooden fencing.

The entire picture was in charcoal, but the shades varied to evenly reveal the hidden picture inside, yet the fickle colors smeared when wet, pale tears dripped down cheeks to the paper, running down the sheet and destroying the passive look on the boy, taking his face away entirely before wiping away the girl's baggy clothing. The man was the last to smear as Aislin let go of the pencil, it rolling away and over the edge to the ground, her pulling the pad and knees up to her chest, crying quietly.

Nothing made sense anymore. Ciel and Sebastian could not be demons (dispute obvious facts from the night before), that odd man could not be a Reaper (despite also facts from the night before) and it just... It just could not be. But... But it so obviously was. This seemed to tear at her the most.

He lied, she thought sadly, crying harder. He never told me. If he had just toldme I wouldn't be here now...

This thought circulated through Aislin's head for several minutes as she sobbed, the words he spoke defining themselves and being worked out before she realized, feeling hallow, what if he meant to tell her that night, but was interrupted by Grell? A foreign feeling welled up in her, one she had not truly felt in years, not sense meeting Ciel.

Her crying slowly stopped as she lifted her head, looking up to the sky, eyes puffy with a ringed redness. Something dark blazed in her eyes, turning the gentle hazel a dangerous tilt towards green while they gazed upon the slowly darkening sky. Ciel had tried to talk to me and Grell had interrupted. Her mind played this conclusion over several times, the foreign feeling slowly growing bigger and bigger within of her, becoming stronger and stronger before the reign she held on it snapped.

Standing, forgetting about the tear-stained picture and her form of dress, nor the fact she would be called in soon, the girl marched towards the gates, first slow, then it picked up quickly to a run. The sound of the banging gate was barely heard by Aislin over the sound of her dangerously beating heart, that feeling squeezing tighter and tighter against her chest.

It was not love, she knew this from older girls telling her what it felt like, nor was it fear. No... It was...

Her feet slammed into the concrete as she rushed to the two story home, taking the five steps two at a time before wrenching the door open, practically wrenching her key from her neck to jam it it not the lock.

It was...

Turning it in one jerking spin, she shoved the door open, marching in with an intimidating aura she did not know was possible. Her feet took her down the hall in a sprint, directly passed the kitchen where she heard a pot drop, heading for the porch. He always waited there for her.

...It was vengeance and fury.