Gosh. I'm so dead, that I had to ask dear old Taker to turn me into a bizarre doll so I could post this chapter, so please excuse me if I'm not as... lively as usual. Pun. I'm horrible.

My current lack of sleep, food and everything else a normal human needs to survive is all thanks to a good old friend named pro. And yes, they are a pro at what they do, that's why they are called Pro-castination. Hahaha please kill me.

I won't be answering reviews individually because I'm so dead that not even crows would want my corpse. Instead I will comment a general answer to the most disscussed topics.

Yes that happened. I still can't understand how myself. I have no idea how or why that happened, I'm just a slave writing the words.
Taker's tentacle soup defies all laws of physics and logics, and not even I know exactly how did this happen.
Please don't cry, Vilvent had to go, we will all miss him.

About the poll there's still time to vote, so don't worry. I am mainly asking regarding the parts of the manga and anime that are mutually exclusive. For example, in the anime... wait a second.

Spoilers of the manga and anime in this Author's Note, below this line, read at your own discretion!

Okay, that's better. In the anime, when Ciel & company find Undertaker in the libary, Wil shamelessly declares he is a reaper, which would mean the whole "OMG he's a reaper and I never noticed" situation in the campania wouldn't take place. In a similar fashion, if the campania events took place, neither Grell nor Sebastian and Ciel would accept Undertaker's presence (and help) in the events of the anime. It is mainly this, I will probably mix a few things from both manga and anime regardless of which option will be chosen, but what I had wanted to know was your opinion about the ones that are mutually exclusive. As I honestly have no preference, I had wanted to ask you readers about this, I won't write and publish something I don't like, so if I'm asking you guys it's because I want your opinion in this. So don't worry about a thing. You're all so nice that I don't deserve you.

Okay Spoiler Time is over. It really wasn't that much of an spoiler, but I still want to be careful... although I guess this is kind of pointless, as it will probably end up in the fic sooner or later...

Well, seeing as my mind is still recovering from the punishment it went through after I decided to leave it all for "later" I will just give you the chapter so you can read it without my needless blabbering.

Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler, sir. You got the wrong person, Yana Toboso owns Black Butler.

The Gamer: Fun and Games

I woke up surrounded by silky long, light hair and a soft sensation on my lips.
The hair wasn't anything new, but the sensation was definitely a first. The novelty of the sensation was enough to rouse me from sleep.

"Good morning~" Undertaker's creepy voice cut through my confusion like a knife cutting butter, finally giving me the strength to look up at him.

"What time is it...?" I mumbled, too tired to actually process what I was hearing or saying.

"Far too early, I'm afraid~" He answered with a smile, looking far more pleased then he should be at this hour in the morning.

"Then why did you wake me?" And with a kiss, no less. Not that I was complaining, of course. I would have to be a fool to complain.

"Hi hi hi~" The reaper laughed, amusedly tapping my nose with one of his incredibly long nails. "I wanted to try to wake you up like this~" Undertaker snickered, pleased at my tame disposition. "And I have to say, you're way less grumpy than normal~"

"I see... good night, then" I closed my eyes again turned away from my boss, too tired to deal with him right now.

"Aww~" The mortician whined, hugging me and preventing me from putting any distance between us. Giving us, I returned to my comfortable, warm spot in Undertaker's arms.
Now, if only he would let me go back to sleep... he seemed awfully cuddly, this morning, nudging me and nuzzling me like he was a cat vying for attention.

"What did you dream about~?" He prodded, attempting to awake me further from my deep slumber.

"A fat woman rolling around a house." I simply answered, it was the truth; the woman was so fat that she orbited around the house like the moon orbited around the earth. She was almost like a balloon. It was an interesting dream, and I would rather like to go back to it.

I heard a very familiar giggle, and the chest I was using as a pillow shook with barely restrained force.
Mhmm... this felt nice... it was like one of these massage-chairs, the ones that rumbled when you sat on them. This was a cheaper version, but it still felt kind of nice.

A hand started combing through my short hair, messing up my already messy bed hair.
"I have to get up, dear..." my pillow started moving, lazily stirring from its relaxed position.

I grumbled, refusing to release the reaper.
"I have to make the arrangements for the Phantomhive funeral..." he quietly explained, almost regretfully. At this, I let him go. No way would I be in the way right now, this must be hard enough for him.
I wasn't about to let him face this alone, though. "Can I help in any way?" I asked, looking at the slowly rising reaper.

Undertaker blinked, turning his head to look at me, eyes slightly wide, like he hadn't expected to hear that offer.
He took a while, but finally answered. "I..." he trailed off, smiling softly "I would appreciate the company"

"Why is it this cold, this early in the morning?" I complained, fingers almost frozen solid.

"Hi hi hi~" the mortician laughed, completely impervious to the cold. "Because it's winter, dear. It happens in winter, this thing called snow falls from the sky and freezes the streets. Ever heard of it~?" He smirked at the pout I had, I was trembling like a leaf.
I ignored the playful voice at my side that belonged to my boss as I was busy internally complaining how cold it was to pay it any mind.

It really was cold, but that was to be expected, in December. That knowledge didn't help my trembling any, though.

Undertaker was digging the last of the graves that would become the Phantomhive family's final resting place.
I could see the Phantomhive's Manor from here. It wasn't in a very good state, let's say. The few things that weren't completely destroyed, were completely black from the fire.

Vilvent... Eh... Vin... Vincent's wife wasn't going to attend the funeral. Or... well, she was, but as a dead body. Undertaker was digging what would become her grave right now.

From what I was told, a fire burned the whole house to the ground, killing the family and all the servants. Only old man Tamana... Eh Tamako... Tanka... Ta… Ta-na-ka...

Only the butler I had learnt the Chibi form from was alive, but he was very seriously injured. He was still in the hospital.

Undertaker had sported that pensive, sad face, as he made the final preparations for the funeral. He wasn't crying at least, even if I feared the reason was he ran out of tears to cry.

When he finished digging the last grave he simply stood there, looking at the three holes that would soon be filled with their final occupants, like he had forgotten what he was supposed to do, now.

I took his hand, leading him away from the graves and the burnt manor, towards the cart where Hercules was patiently waiting for us. The donkey seemed completely apathetic, but by the way the ears were turned in our direction, I suspected he, too, was worried about his master.

Said master blinked at our entwined hands, smiling softly after a beat, ears turning a nice shade of pink.
"Wanna go somewhere, dear~...?" He offered, his usual creepy voice chasing away any sadness I still felt.

Uh… "Home" I finally replied.

The reaper had his eyes covered, as he often did when he was outside, but by the slight opening of his mouth, I could imagine he had widened his eyes in surprise. He then morphed his expression, smiling one of his soft smiles that melted my heart.
"Home, huh?" He brought me closer to him, softly brushing his nose against mine. His nose was cold. "Hi hi~ I would like that very much~" he finally said, still smiling softly.

I didn't say anything strange, did I? I don't think I did... it was too cold to go anywhere, and it was getting kind of late. I should start thinking about what we would eat.

I also wanted to talk about... whatever was happening between us, now.
I was a bit worried, because, last time we talked about love, Undertaker had liked some mysterious girl. A mysterious girl that may or may not be a Zombie.
I mean... if he was doing this because he was sad and wanted to feel loved... Uh... I don't know, but I would definitely be a bit hurt he was using my feelings for him to comfort himself...
I wouldn't blame him, but I would still be hurt.
If it turned out that the girl he liked had turned him down and that made him sad, making him turn to me for comfort, I would find that girl and hang her from the London Bridge...
I mean... I would talk to cough hug cough Undertaker to make him feel better... and then hang the girl from the London Bridge.

But we really had to talk... because I honestly cannot understand what is currently happening between the two of us.
I mean... this relationship has "tragedy" written all over it. There's no way this was ending nicely... I mean... he's a reaper... he would see me grow old and die from old age, that is, if I didn't die from anything else that likes to prowl around this time's London, like diseases, unwary carriages, killers... because apparently, everyone here kills as a hobby. Something to do in the weekends: visiting friends, playing an instrument, sewing, playing sports or caving someone's face in. Normal stuff.

I shook my head, I was thinking too much into it.

I wanted to ask what was currently going on between us… if there was anything at all, that is... I mean...
We're still friends, at least. The question is, are we friends with benefits, just friends that have and awful amount of sexual tension going on, or girl-boy friends?

...

I think... I should stop thinking now. I mean... I'm just worrying myself needlessly, no answer will magically fall down from the sky to enlighten me. Even worse, it's taking my mind away from enjoying the walk back home with Undertaker, which was a terrible sin in and on itself.

I should probably ask Undertaker what the situation was, as he seemed to be the one leading this parade, but I should wait until after the funeral... I wouldn't want him to get angry with me for not understanding what is going on, especially if it lead to us spending the funeral fighting, making me unable to comfort him when he needed it most...
Or maybe I'm just trying to delay the inevitable because I think this is too good to last and I'm a complete coward.

Yeah, that totally sounds like me.

I think I will drag on this sweet, sweet moment a little bit longer. Just in case it ends up crumbling before my eyes.

The shock wore off right in the middle of the funeral.

Between all these new happenings, -meaning Undertaker and I- all of it had somehow made me think this was way too good to be true. It made me think that this wasn't happening, that Vilvent hadn't died...
It wasn't until the last casket was being covered with dirt that the full realization of what had really happened hit me like a truck, leaving me gasping for air.

Vilvent was dead... the twins are dead... The Panthomhives... are dead.

My stomach churned, unable to bear with everything, and I felt like I would puke right then and there. My heart was beating so loudly I couldn't hear anything besides the frantic beat of drums, like a very unfitting war song.

A whole family had died... the Phantomhives had died. The words were resonating in my head, but weren't gaining their rightful meaning, leaving me dizzy.
I had given sweets to the youngest Panthomhive twin, and seen the twins run with that cute dog of theirs, carefree like only children can be.
I had gushed over them like an idiot... and I would never be able to do it again, because they were gone.

Gone...

I dazedly looked around, seeing somber faces and tears coming from the heart all around me, until my eyes fell on the crying fiancé of one of the Panthomhive twins. She was crying her heart out, tears pouring like rivers down her pretty face.
Why couldn't I cry like she was?

I felt horrible alright, but the tears simply refused to come, something in my head wasn't allowing me to pour my feelings out. It made no sense, I was a crybaby, I cried when I was stressed or frustrated without any problems.
Why couldn't I cry now, when I had a good reason to?

My heart... felt strangely empty.

I put a hand over my heart, it hurt. Not in a: I'm-having-a-heart-attack kind of hurt. But the kind of hurt when you lose someone you knew, even if I hadn't known the Phantomhives that well... why did it hurt this much? And if it hurts this much, why can't I cry over their loss?

I stared dazedly at the recently buried graves, completely out of it, until a hand grasped mine, squeezing it lightly. I flinched at the unexpected touch, looking up at my side, Undertaker was eyeing me with soft eyes, wrapping his hand around mine, comforting me. Such an idiot, caring about me even when he was obviously more in need of comfort.

I felt my eyes get wet, but no tears fell, but I did relax slightly, which made me take notice of the fact I had been taut as a rope, so tense it hurt. His mere presence acted like a balm, soothing my hurt and frustration down to bearable levels.

"No one will say anything." He whispered softly, going unheard to other people's ears.
For a second I was confused about the meaning behind his words. What was he talking about? Was he saying that no one would blame me for not crying? Something completely different? Or... that no one would blame me, if I cried?

I opened my mouth, I didn't know if to explain that my tears simply weren't coming, or to ask him to clarify. And I will never know, because at that moment a sob tore through me, interrupting me.
I hadn't even understood them, but his words had unclogged my emotions, making me choke up. Ironic, but awfully true. I tried to hide my sniffles, but I had no delusions that the reaper may not have noticed them.

I tightened my hold on the hand that wasn't carrying his mute wand, drawing and giving comfort in equal amounts. His hand returned the gesture with equal strength.

Ah... the wand wasn't a magic wand. It was just a stick of sorts with cloth over it. It was one of these objects funeral mutes carried around.

I looked teary eyed at the graves we had dug up, not that long ago. They were now filled with the remains of what had been salvaged of the family.
My heart gave a pang of pain at the thought, doubling the amount of tears pouring out of my eyes and leaving me gasping for air. My nose was getting clogged...

I wiped my tears and snot away. I really shouldn't cry so much, I hadn't known them so well...
I was so confused. I didn't know if I should be crying or not. Everything I did just felt... wrong.

Undertaker had said that next to nothing had been recovered of the Phantomhives, he said the bodies burned down to ashes.
That reminded me of something else I had wanted to talk to Undertaker about. I was aware he could sort-of-revive dead people.

He better not try with the Phantomhives.

I know that was something horrible to ask of him. He was obviously hurt by their deaths, but I was sure that making them into Bizarre Dolls wouldn't make his pain go away. It would only hurt him, and consequently me, more.
It won't bring them back, at least not in the way they were before, I only wanted him to understand that.

I shook my head, wiping even more tears that didn't seem to want to stop. Now wasn't the moment to talk about something like that. Right now, was a time to cry for the ones that have been lost.

And so, I cried until I had no more tears to cry.

"Taker..." softly started, shyly looking at my feet.

"Yes~?" The reaper stopped on his tracks, turning to look at me. He had been sort-of-absent, since the funeral, so I had wanted to give him a bit more of time, before talking about this matter, but he kind of forced me to, as he had been about to go down the basement.
And I knew for a fact that he didn't have any "guest" he should be treating, right now. That meant he was going to play with his dolls.

I sat on a coffin, softly patting the spot next to me, inviting him to join me wordlessly.
He blinked, but complied, sitting next to me with a small frown, which probably meant he suspected I wanted to talk about something he wouldn't like. Or he was worried about me, both were equally likely.

I took a deep breath.
Alright... first the "What-is-going-on-between-us" topic, or the "Please-don't-bring-Phantomhive-back-to-life" topic?
Do I really need to talk about this at all? I mean... Yes, you can't be a coward about this, Dalia.

I was nibbling on my lips, thinking where I should start.
I pondered the possibilities. If we talked about what was going on between us, and it ended badly... I doubted he would listen to me, about the other topic regarding the Zombies...
But if we talked about the Phantomhive topic and it ended badly... the probabilities of the relationship topic ending well plummeted straight to hell.

I'm a filthy coward, so... I think I will go for the topic that doesn't directly affect me, but that still affects someone I care about.
Phantomhive topic it is.

Alright, now that I have decided on where to start, how do I say it...?
I obviously don't want to order him around or anything, I only wanted to make my suggestion, explain my reasoning and hear his opinion, that may either be crazy talk, or an awe inspiring advice that would convince me that what he was doing was obviously the right path.
Sadly, Undertaker could be very convincing, and he was perfectly aware of the fact. I just hope he doesn't brainwash me… I have to become unmovable in my decision, to avoid that! Wait, no… In a conversation, if one doesn't listen to the other, then it will probably escalate into a discussion, and I definitely don't want that. I will have to trust that Undertaker is sensible enough to listen to me.

The aforementioned reaper was patiently waiting for me to find my words, which I was greatly appreciating, considering I was thinking a lot more about what I would not say, rather than what I did have to say.

Alright... how do I bring this up...? If I 'casually' mentioned the dolls he would immediately suspect. I'm not very good at acting innocent when I obviously wasn't. Apparently.
Maybe I should simply take the honest approach, as it usually worked the best, and I didn't have to think much beyond what I already felt. Right now I felt very worried, so I just had to say it.

I desperately searched for words that would convey how worried I was about him.
As I was taking air to gather some courage, the words escaped my mouth before I could actually think them through. "Please, don't do anything reckless!" I blurted, before covering my mouth with my hands.

Argh! No, shut your trap, Dalia! This is not how I wanted to say it! Not only did I made it seem like I thought he was planning something horrible, but it also didn't really touch the subject I wanted to talk about.
"Wait, scratch that!" I quickly backtracked, before realizing that I had just made it sound like I didn't care. "...well, no. Don't scratch that... I mean... don't do anything reckless... but that wasn't what I wanted to say... I mean..." I trailed off, embarrassed with my own clumsiness.

Goddamnit Dalia, learn to talk! Or at the very least think before you talk! Never mind the fact I have been thinking about what to say for at least a good ten minutes.
Bless Undertaker's saint-like patience. He really is too good for me. I thought as I cried rivers, holding onto him, berating myself internally.

I sighed, calming down. I don't think I can say this tactfully at all. Let's forget tact and be concise.
"Don't..." was I about to order him? No, I didn't want to start like that... I wanted to give him my reasons why I thought he shouldn't do it. I wasn't about to say what he could or couldn't do. "I mean... well...ah..." this is horrible. I'm downright pathetic. Someone, please hit me on the head, I beg of you.

Undertaker wasn't really helping, he was just smiling, looking at me with those soft eyes of his.

Argh! Forget about making a logically structured sentence! Words. Information.
"You." The reaper blinked, pointing at himself with a foolish smile. "Bizarre Dolls." At this he blinked again, tilting his head to the side. "Phantomhive. NOT" His smile immediately faded, opening his mouth and eyes slightly.
I felt horrible. He was hurting, and here I was, being... stupid!

His eyes turned sad again, but he made a halfhearted snicker, a pitiful attempt, if you ask me.
"Their bodies burned completely, little Lia... I can't bring them back, without the body..."

I took his hand, frowning. "You know that, even if you had the body, you wouldn't get them back, right?" I softly asked. Undertaker was smart, but everyone could have a lapse of judgement.
He eyed me sideways, saying nothing.

"Undertaker..." I started. "I don't like those Bizarre Dolls of yours, I won't lie. But... I'm not saying this because I don't like them. I'm saying this, because I think this will only hurt you further, so... please... don't." I ended up whispering, looking at his eyes and moving his hair aside so he couldn't hide behind his hair.

"Little Lia..." the reaper whispered, looking at me. I couldn't really say he was wearing a certain expression, more like... he had forgotten how to move his face to make expressions.

I rested my hand on his cheek, remorsefully looking down.
"I know this is... terribly selfish to ask of me... and... I'm really sorry but... it really hurts me to see you sad and... I don't want you to be sad..." he leaned into my hand, closing his eyes. "Ah!" I realized I was ordering him again. "But that doesn't mean you can't be sad! I mean... just... don't make yourself sad." A small smile returned to the reaper's lips. "Ah... Well... I mean... I feel like... doing this will make you sad in the long run, so... that's why I'm asking you to stop... I mean... If you're sad please don't hide it from me... I... Uh... I... want to cheer you up and... I-I mean...I will... just shut up now." I rambled.
I had wanted to apologize for asking something like this of him, but somewhere along the line, my words had descended into senseless sputtering.

One day, I will make myself a trophy. To honor my absolutely horrible social skills.
At least my awkward inability to form words had cheered up the reaper, that was now smiling, and he even chuckled, brushing my hair. Well, more like messing it up with his hand.
But the fact stood that Undertaker had seemed to not actually get angry, for asking this of him.

He seemed to sigh, fondly, before he raised a hand to cup my cheek, just like I had been doing, before my embarrassment won me over.
"Little Lia, I know I can't bring Vincent and his family back." He started.

"I was just..." I tried to explain myself, but it wasn't necessary.

"I know dear, and I thank you..." At this his smile turned more teasing "you did give me quite a laugh, though~ hi hi hi~" he giggled.

At my pout, he decided to control his chuckles, before I took offense. I had been honestly worried for him.

"Little Lia, I am perfectly aware, that my bizarre dolls are little more than animals" He started solemnly.

"That's an insult to animals. Animals are smarter. And cuter" I interrupted, putting my five cents.

"Lia..." He chided, looking flatly at me, either for interrupting, or for my words.

"I'm just saying! It's true, you can't deny it" I defended myself.

The reaper sighed, poking my side as punishment.
"I am aware that my experiments with the dolls won't bring anyone really back to life. Unlike my business partner..." at this he got a wry smile and produced the most cynical chuckle I heard from him yet.

Really, I'm sort of curious about this partner, now. This isn't the first time he has been mentioned.
So far, I'm picturing as a poor fool trying to chew more than he reasonably could swallow. But seeing as I really didn't want to involve myself in that business, I would be left wondering.

"So... no zombi Phantomhive?" I made sure.

"Not if I have any say on it~" He answered.

"Well... you should have a say on it... so I guess not?" I pointed out.

"Good Lia~" He giggled, patting my head. Not for the first time, I felt like a dog.

But... I had been expecting him to fight more, actually.
That seemed... way too easy...

Seeing my unconvinced face, he took out a key from one of his sleeves, putting it in my palm.
What is this?
"This is the key to the basement~" He totally read my mind.

Eh?

"I want you to have it~" He closed my hand around the key with his, smiling.

Eh...? Does that mean he will stop with his dolls? Altogether? Or just with Phantomhive?
I mean... He said that he wouldn't mess with the recently decreased family, not that he would stop with his dolls... but then again, he did give me a key to the basement. What does that mean?! I need someone to translate this into plain English!
I think I should take this as a gifted horse. Yeah.

…I'm... touched... He would give me this. It probably means a lot to him…

I teared up, launching myself at the reaper, crying rivers into his uniform.
"Does that mean I don't have to heal the living dolls anymore...? Whaaaah" I asked while crying. If that key meant he was stopping with his dolls, it had to mean I didn't have to involve myself further, right?

I was crying relieved tears, and Undertaker knew that. He still decided to tease me.
"Well, if you like it so much, I won't stop you~. Now you have the key to go there, after all~ hi hi hi~" He offered, giggling. I shook my head, still crying. Stupid old man... go bald, Undertaker.

I sighed contently into his chest, hiding the smile that was forming on my lips. Surprisingly, this had gone waaaay better than it had in my head.
I was honestly expecting someone to raise their voice. Or at the very least for him to get angry.

It kind of gave me confidence to ask about the other thing.

"So..." I gathered courage, asking before I could think it through and make it awkward. "We're like... together, right?" I quickly asked, hiding my face on his chest while I did.

The reaper blinked, expression immediately turning into a mischievous one.
"Yes~ we are~" He vaguely stated, tightening his arms around me.

"Well... I mean... like... together... not like... in the same room, which we are, but... like... you know... I'm... just making sure... just in case..." I rambled with my face crimson and my hands moving back and forth without any goal in mind.

The white-haired reaper started gushing.
"Aww~ I can't even tease you about this~ you're so cute little Lia~" he started kissing my cheeks, pulling at them, and brushing his nose against mine.

I... will guess that we are really... an item. Like... yeah.

I blushed bright red, just by thinking that. Seeing my blush, Undertaker kissed my red cheeks with even more fervor.

That didn't completely ease my worries, though.
"So... the girl you liked..." what had happened to her? Did she even exist in the first place?

"Was you~" he started snickering.

...

...

Oh.

...

Well, now I feel stupid.

Seeing my face, Undertaker just started laughing harder, almost choking on his tears.

...

Now just wait a second!
"Hey!" I quickly said, the indignation in my voice was probably what made the reaper stop laughing, looking at me confusedly.
"Did you call me fat?" That would explain why he seemed to be trying to tease me with his words! That stupid old man...

The reaper blinked for a second. Then he restarted his laughter. This time even stronger. I think I heard Biscuit run to hide in the bedroom.
"I'm NOT fat!" I spat. How dares he?

I mean... I know I'm not fat... but it still hurts to be called that. Especially from him.
Not that Undertaker is fat, I didn't mean to imply that... I merely wanted to say, that...

Undertaker is important to me, and I don't want him calling me fat! He's not fat. And neither am I.
Period.

I angrily eyed the reaper, who was rolling on the floor, as he had fallen off the coffin a while ago, and was now chocking on his breath on the shop floor.

...

He can go bald for all I care. Bastard.

Should I make something for dinner...? It's a bit early, but the day was taxing, and I honestly felt like calling it a day early.
Mhmmm... Yes why not?

I went to the kitchen, deciding to make a syrup-covered bun. Syrup was Undertaker's last craze-craving. He puts the stuff into everything. I was getting sick of syrup covered pancakes every morning.
I actually wouldn't mind syrup pancakes... if they weren't accompanied by syrup-something for lunch and syrup-something-else for dinner.
I even caught him stuffing his face full of syrup, once. Just syrup. I don't know how he didn't die from so much sugar.

Getting the ingredients out, I heard Undertaker's footsteps behind me, watching me.

"Are you making something with syrup~?" He asked, peeking into what I was doing.
I kind of was, but he didn't need to know that. He had called me fat. He deserved to go without syrup for a while for being an idiot. Now if only I could actually deny him something…

"Maybe..." I sourly stated, glaring at anything but the reaper.

"Please~?" He pleaded, putting those cute puppy eyes that always made me weak.

"Mhmm..." Sadly, if I wasn't looking at him, the effect was halved. It still was pretty strong.

"Pretty please~?" He asked again, this time putting more effort in sounding pathetic, rather than looking pathetic.

Taking out the pin-roller and the pot of syrup, I started making the dough for the bun. He didn't need to see more, to guess what I was making.
"Thank you~ hi hi hi~" I blushed bright red, touching the cheek he had just kissed.

I grumbled something, not looking at the smug mortician by my side.

He was awfully cuddly... and kissy. Ever since I promised I would stay, he had become even more cuddly than usual, using any opportunity he found to kiss me.

I was… happy, I had decided to stay, even if the mere thought of Kim and kala sent a wave of shame through me. At least, I had made a decision. I had to remember to ask Tofu if there was any way I could send a message to Kim.
But when I wasn't thinking of them, I was… really, really happy. I felt... like I could take off the ground any moment now, and start flying.
It wasn't a bad sensation, but everything just felt so new and nice, that I was a bit scared.
But, how can I be scared, when Undertaker's arms wrap around me, in a protective embrace I could melt in?
So any fear I had was quickly replaced with the feeling of being about to faint from happiness.
It was... like eating that last cookie in the jar, it always felt sweeter. But unlike the last cookie, there's always more where that came from.

I put the dough in the oven and, after making sure Undertaker wasn't going to tinker in the kitchen while I wasn't looking, I ran upstairs to change.

My sheep pajamas were always very warm and comfy. Besides, it's not like Undertaker didn't know what I looked like in my pajamas.

After changing, I went downstairs, Undertaker had already closed the shop, and was now impatiently waiting next to the oven, like he could make it bake faster with the power of his stare. His gaze was powerful... but not that powerful. At least he was keeping a respectful distance from the kitchen.
Wouldn't want another "tentacle incident".

I shuddered. Definitely not.

Undertaker blinked at my pajamas, but didn't find it strange.
"Calling it a day early?"

I nodded, smiling slightly at him, previous slight already forgotten.
The day has been awfully taxing, and I would rather go to bed as soon as possible. Hence my pajamas.

Biscuit slowly peeked their head into the kitchen, warily looking at us both.
"What did you do to Biscuit, by the way? They're terrified of you." I asked, wondering why the poor dog seemed so wary to get closer.

"Really~? Good, good~" He simply sang, going to sit in a chair.

"Taker..." I warned, glaring at the idiot prancing towards the table.

"Nothing much, dear~. Just taught it not to stick its muzzle into other people's business~ hi hi~" He simply giggled as he turned to look innocently at me.

Well, that's sounds ominous.
"Poor Biscuit... Biscuit~ come here darling... I don't bite... come here sweetie..." I called, trying to be as non-threatening as possible.
The reaper rumbled something I didn't catch, as Biscuit ran to me crying and whining, making it very difficult to hear anything but them.
But I'm pretty sure he was complaining. That childish pout gave it away.

Biscuit hugged me, crying and rubbing their face against my stomach, their tail was moving with the strength of a whip. Their little hands had taken hold of my pajama shirt, dramatically crying into it.
Children and animals were my weakness. I literally couldn't help myself when it came to Biscuit.
I gushed over the cutest dog-child to step foot in this shop in the history of forever.

The Phantomhive twins... My smile immediately dimmed at the thought.
I had tried to avoid thinking that they had died, too. They had been children... they, more than anyone else, deserved to live. They had barely begun their life and now... they were dead...
They were truly dead.

I didn't want to think about it, it hurt too much.
I had this horrible tendency... I always want to avoid thinking about sad things, until the dam bursts and I become a crying mess.
It was cruel, but it was easier to think that Vilvent had died, who was older and had had a chance to live, than thinking I wouldn't see ever again the little kids I had played with.

I suspected that it was the opposite with Undertaker. He was more hurt by Vilvent's death than the twins' demise. He hadn't known the children that well, so it didn't hurt as much...
Which didn't mean he wasn't hurt.

I was awoken from my deep thoughts by the reaper I had been thinking about.
"The food is going to burn, dear~" He simply stated, but by the lack of a giggle I knew he had realized where had my thoughts strayed to.

I let go of Biscuit, who was attempting to cheer me back up with dog-kisses. Such a precious creature. If only those kisses didn't involve slobber…

I turned my attention to the oven, with a dog-child-barnacle attached to my hip. So cute.

"[Gourmet Cooking] has leveled up by one"

I took the bun out, and once I deemed the bun as finished, I put them in a plate, adorning it with a bit of syrup over it. I also made some broth, because it was cold and I was getting sick of syrup.
I took out the plate and three bowls... Well... two bowls and a beaker. We only owned two bowls.
And, of course, Undertaker took the syrup pot, putting more syrup on one of the buns until it was covered in half the pot of syrup.

I sighed and shook my head as I sat on one of the only two chairs.
I know I should nag Undertaker to buy more things to accommodate all of us, but... we were a pair of lazy idiots.
Undertaker was getting the beaker, hopefully that would urge him to buy more bowls. And chairs. And more cups, our only one got destroyed. And we also needed more kitchen utensils, to cook... And forks, and knives and spoons, and glasses, and...

...

How have we been surviving with so little things? I smiled fondly at the reaper that was eating the rest of the syrup left in the pot with a spoon. Our only spoon in fact. The one I needed to eat the broth. Ass.
What little we had was enough for us, though. I would drink the broth without spoon.

...
But that didn't mean he wasn't going to get the beaker. Biscuit and I would get the bowls.
That's what he gets. For being a stingy, lazy old man.

"What's with that smile, little Lia~? Did I do something funny~?" the reaper asked around a spoonful of syrup.

I snickered, saying nothing.

I served the food, Undertaker sitting on his chair, and I sat on the only other chair. Biscuit sat on my lap.
Of course, Undertaker got the bun-filled syrup. It couldn't be called a syrup-covered bun anymore. That would imply that the food was more bun than syrup.

The atmosphere was surprisingly peaceful.
Usually, eating was a true battlefield. Undertaker and Biscuit trying to steal each other's food, completely ignoring their own food.
And once their food was gone, they would gang up on me, stealing all my food.

I suspected that this peace was due to... the Phantomhive incident. I think I was going to call it that from now on.

I had, more than once, caught Undertaker lost in his thoughts, looking forlornly at his ring or at thin air, since the incident.

I hoped...

He didn't really talk about what he was thinking. He didn't tell stories of how Phantomhive and him met, or anything. He wasn't one to get stuck in the past, but he sometimes had a forlorn smile that told me he couldn't really get over it, at least not easily.

I wasn't sure if he would ever tell me what he was thinking of, but I wasn't worried.

Because I hoped.

I hoped he would be able to pull through. I knew he was strong, and not only in the literal sense, but... emotionally strong. While it was true he had broken down when he learned about Vincent's death, he had quickly picked up the pieces, building something new with them.
I don't think I would be able to do the same. That took a strength which I knew I lacked.
Undertaker was really something.

And I was willing to help him. I was willing to drag him through a swamp of sadness and despair, so he could reach the peaceful meadow on the other side.

Hey... that comparison was almost poetic. I'm a genius.

I went to take another sip of broth, when Biscuit suddenly jumped out of my lap, running to the door, barking like mad, and making me spill the contents of the bowl I had been drinking on myself.

Undertaker offered me a cloth to dry myself with, getting up to see what had made Biscuit bark like that.
Very few people got that reaction out of the demon hound... like Vilvent...
It couldn't be Vilvent, though... maybe it was Mr. Dimwit?

Undertaker glanced outside, telling me to stay inside after a beat. Then he left through the backyard door.

Maybe it wasn't Mr. Dimwit, after all. And that made me a bit nervous.

I looked at my wet pajamas. Great. Now what do I wear, to sleep?

...

I sighed at the wet pajamas.
I guess I could use what I usually wear in summer. The sheep pajamas, while warm and good for winter, were a curse in summer. I had a... nightgown of sorts, very breezy and good for the hot weather. But this night I would be quite cold...
Or maybe not. I do have two bedmates to keep me warm, after all.

Undertaker entered again, carrying a...

I gasped, widening my eyes as I ran to the reaper.

"Is she alive?!" I asked looking at her worriedly as he moved her a bit out of the way, silently telling me he didn't want me looking at her.

"I'm afraid her heart had already stopped when I got there~" I told me with soft eyes, as my own were unable to leave the poor body.

It was a dead woman, almost a girl, covered from head to toe in blood. From where I was, I could see a hole in her stomach, along with very nasty gashes around her body.

I quickly ran to the basement door, opening it for Undertaker.

He went in and down, with me following behind like a little duckling, as he left the body on the table.

Poor thing... What cold-blooded monster could do this?

Undertaker started working on the body right away, Biscuit had been sniffing at the dead girl, but didn't seem to have any animosity towards her. She was already dead.

I used Observe on the body, telling Undertaker what the skill showed me.

She was a prostitute... she had been young, too young to lead that kind of life... she still had money and valuables on her. It couldn't have been a theft, then.
She had quite a few injuries, and the uterus was missing. The slash on her neck had been the first wound, and it had been the killing blow.

At least she hadn't suffered much.

"Are we calling the police?" I asked, as I silently apologized for not being able to do anything to save her.

"No." He stated seriously. "This is an Underworld business, they would only interfere... if only..." He mumbled, lost in thought.
Underworld business...?

Then... Vilvent...
"But... wasn't Vilv- eh...Vincent supposed to investigate those...?" I quietly asked, not knowing how would the reaper react.

The reaper froze there, looking blankly at the body.
He stood like this for barely a second, then he kept treating the body like nothing happened.
"We will just do our job... the Queen will probably send someone else to do her dirty work..." He frowned at the body as he sourly whispered this.

I would bet my right hand that Undertaker is blaming the Queen for Vilvent's death. If not, at the very least he can't stand the very thought of her, for other reasons unknown to me.

He kept treating our unexpected guest, when he was done verifying that she was indeed missing the uterus and that there was little else we could do for her, he let me heal the mutilated corpse.
We would probably make her a simple coffin and burry her without much fuss.
That or he would use the organs for his own experiments. Although I doubt he will with this one, as she is already lacking an organ, even if it is the uterus.

It didn't really matter. As long as he wasn't making a Bizarre Doll out of her, I would probably let him.
I actually didn't have anything against him making dolls, as long as he was just doing it to people without family, and he wasn't doing it in an attempt to bring back someone he lost.

He did have a thing for experimentation, science in general, and biology in particular. Specifically anything involving death.
He sometimes liked to act like a mad scientist. It was kind of adorable. And very, very creepy.

I didn't like the Zombies, and I would prefer if he didn't make them at all, but if he liked them so much, I wouldn't feel right, outright forcing him to stop... As long he used people who had no one that would miss them, and couldn't be horrified about their state, if they ever found out...
People that no one would be hurt by, if they became monsters without self.
I still didn't like it, but I had to compromise.

Although... now it doesn't matter anymore, as he had promised to stop making them, so... it was good. I sighed in relief at this.

He left the body aside to take care of tomorrow, taking the clothes the victim had been wearing.
After an inspection, he stored them where I knew he put all clothes that would end up destroyed and recycled to use as something else. Like bandages for the eyes. The eyes were one of the first things to rot, so it was best to cover them to avoid hurting sensibilities. Especially if he had already removed them precisely to avoid the rotting problem.

He walked in front of me, leaving the basement. After a blink, I followed him out of the basement, then I went upstairs to change... again.

...

Seriously, we need another chair to eat in. That, or Biscuit will eat in Undertaker's lap until we get another chair!
I blinked, thinking... or... I can be the one to sit in Undertaker's lap... No I can't do that! Dalia pervert!
I was blushing a bright red, I was aware.

How come that, just by thinking these kind of things, I turn into a blushing mess of a person, my stomach starts making backflips, and my mouth dries, making me unable to talk?

Undertaker is a stupid old man, he should go bald. It's his fault, for being so...
"Are you alright, dear~? You're red. Hi hi~" He giggled, looking over my shoulder at my red face.

He's a bastard and it's his fault! He's so... cute and sexy and creepy but funny and he's so gentle but firm and he makes the best cookies ever...
I put my hands over my face, hiding my blush from the prying reaper, who was attempting to uncover my face so he could have a good look at it.
"Go bald, Taker" I spat, refusing to show my face at him so he could laugh.

"What did I do~?" He whined, still trying to move my hands away from my face.
Just being himself was enough. He was so...

I squealed, wanting nothing but get rid of these thoughts, and ran to the bed, hiding underneath the sheets, shivering when the wet pajama pressed against my skin. With all that ruckus, I had forgotten to change.

"What are you going to wear, little Lia~? Your clothes are wet..." The reaper asked, tilting hi head to the side as he dropped the subject of my red face. I peeked my head out of the bed "...not that I would mind..."He mumbled something under his breath, but I didn't quite catch it.
I decided to ignore that in behalf of putting on my summer nightgown.

Biscuit ran up the stairs, standing in front of the bedroom, seemingly waiting for someone to give them the go ahead, looking at the reaper warily. I simply made a gesture to come inside, and the dog ran, jumping on the bed and wiggling until they were comfortable.

Once I had changed into clean clothes, I went to leave the wet pajamas aside. I would clean that tomorrow.
Turning to the bed, I saw a white haired reaper, sitting on the bed, looking straight at me.

...

What?

He was looking at me with half lidded eyes, a wide smirk on his lips. He was resting his head on his hand, he looked like he had been enjoying a show, or something.
But I had just been getting ready to bed...?

I... think I will ignore that. Yeah.
That sounds like a good idea. Especially because he looked like he was a cat that just ate the canary, and I felt like I wouldn't like what had made him look like that. Especially because it looked like I was the canary.

"It is in moments like these, that I regret not having my glasses..." He simply stated, like I should know what was going on in his mind.

Eh? "Why?" I wondered, confused.

"Because you're beautiful" he simply said, smirking wide. That made me turn into a deep scarlet color.
He was being an embarrassing bastard. He was doing this on purpose, I'm sure.

"Scoot over" I grumbled, not looking at his face.

"Yes dear~ hi hi hi~" He giggled, doing as asked. He was snickering. I glared. Biscuit moved in place, impatiently waiting for us to get in our places, before they fell asleep like a log.

I crawled over Undertaker, laying between him and the quickly relaxing Biscuit.
It wouldn't be long, before they fell asleep. And once asleep, Biscuit was really hard to wake up. Such a precious creature, at least they were well behaved, when they were asleep.

Undertaker hugged me from behind, his chest on my back, his arms around me.
For once, he was warm. Warmer than I was, even. Which was good, because I was only in a nightgown, and I didn't want to be cold, tonight.
I wiggled closer.

The reaper sighed near my ear, making me try to move my ear away. That had tickled.
Undertaker seemed to have caught on, but instead of keep doing the same to get back at me, for all those times I tickled him, he moved his face to my neck. Simply giggling that he had finally found a weak spot.
Thank the stars he wasn't out for revenge.

I closed my eyes, lulled by Undertaker's deep breaths against my skin, and Biscuit's relaxed sigh.

"Good night... Taker..." I mumbled, comforted by the reaper's warmth and the security I felt in his arms.

"Good night... my love"