Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji


XLV.

Fool. Bloody fool. Isn't that a niiice definition?

Undertaker surrounded the graves with feverish haste, sometimes freezing and turning in completely other direction. He didn't seem to follow a pattern, but if someone had the casual possibility of observing him, he would resemble someone that is completely lost.

Not sure if he was searching for something in particular, his figure wandered aimlessly and still with some kind of reason. He didn't chase anything either. This time, something was chasing him.

What a laughing stock...

He felt as if something heavy was suffocating him.

Why was he doing that again? Ah, punishing himself, that's what. He came to the most silent place he knew.

The cemetery was indeed the quietest place on earth, neither wind nor any human voices disturbed the silence. It was a peaceful and cold scenery.

A vast white area, filled with old, mossy and overgrown gravestones, set up one beside another in unnecessarily pedantic order.

The light mist was darkening the mood even more in this place, soaked up with sadness and oblivion. The snow kept falling down with its painful indifference to anything and everyone around.

What are ya going to do now, love~?

Now? He didn't know. He wasn't sure. A metallic, matt luster attracted Undertaker's attention. The silver edge of the ancient weapon in his possession flashed in the corner of his eye.

What a nice suggestion, dear!

Was he over? With everything? This world was tiring. There was nothing it could give him anymore.

Hundreds of years. Damnation for a crime. Eternity for a servitude.

Death gods were supposed to suffer death endlessly. To feel it in their bones, to live with humans' sadness, to relive their fear, anger and pain as if its their own.

Perhaps... one long rest from all of this wouldn't be that bad. He wondered how would God's wrath fall upon him if he commits the crime he was punished, once again.

Goodness, aren't ya a gettin' a bit boring? Where's the fun in killin' yourself without an audience? It won't be dramatic, ya know.

Kill himself? It wasn't the same as he thought it like that, as he named it - it obtained material sense, it was a reality now.

Screaming, shouting, I know you'd love to hear it. You could gut yourself at the very heart of London. What a sight would that be! Hehehe...

Oh. No, no, no. Undertaker stopped and switched the direction he was headed. He turned backward with the same rapid gait. That wasn't... wasn't... what? There was something that stood in the way, between this twofold torture in his head.

Paint the streets with your blood, let them all see you die.

An exception.

Make your suffering a spectacle. It is your specialty, after all, turning death into a spectacle.

A diamond, he once called her. A rare diamond, whose safety was in his hands. What happened in the end? He proved to be incapable of keeping it safe.

Because he was too busy presuming that it belonged to him. But it was nice, deceiving himself in believing it to be the truth.

Come ooon. Let go of these laughable feelings. Hehehe, feelings! It's better off without them and you know it! Weaknesses, weaknesses, they have become too many in ya head.

Love is not a weakness.

Undertaker stopped short, surprised by his own thoughts.

What?

Pathetic, brainless creature. Love? You are a psycho, heheheehe. You don't deserve love. Things like you must be extinguished.

Oh, yes. It hurt, but that was what he actually deserved. He came to this place on purpose. So he could hear it.

This voice. It was one, but many at the same time. The one that he tried to ignore and to fight. The one that was the strongest when he was all alone.
Look what you've done. Look at what you've done. Look at what you've done. Look at..

"Shut up!" Undertaker yelled. "I know! I know ..."

Sorry, I thought you're not hearin' me. It hurt me to think about it, ya know. A blind man is a pity, you have to agree. But a blind and a deaf man is absolutely useless, so to say, hehe~.

Undertaker started walking again, aimlessly. He was sinking more and more. The intense cold was gripping his body and he just now realized that part of the pain he felt was because he was wandering through this graveyard for hours in the freezing weather.

Anyways, he wouldn't die of coldness. It was just going to hurt his skin and cause him just as much pain as to keep his mind clear. If that could be accomplished at all.

Undertaker stopped for a second.

There was a quarter with a couple of angel sculptures, carved out of stone on the graves. The figures were laying as if in a sleep, joined with the tombstones, steady and frozen. But they weren't scary in their stillness.

Just the opposite, their aura was emanating calmness and peace. The wings of the angel, closest to him, rest on its back and lend a divine tinge in the sleeping figure, half buried in the snow.

A sudden weakness struck Undertaker and he fell on his knees. He couldn't tell if the pain was physical or psychical, but it was becoming stronger. It was killing him.

You and your clever whims. Sent her straight to heaven, ya did.Hehe... With her thin, white dress. A veritable angel.

"I don't want to hear you." Undertaker whispered, shifting eyes away from the sleeping angel.

Weeeell, not exactly. It was half-soaked with blood... Half-angel. In fact, do shinigami pay additional taxes to meet the Good Lord? Ya know, He's not very fond of them, commitin suicide and stuff~.

"Please..."

Ehh, can't be helped. Guess she's just burnin' somewhere... down. Who cares~?

"Get away from me." He begged, enveloping his head with both hands. His mind was tearing him apart. He had to keep going. Stopping was going to destroy him.

He crawled a few feet forwards.

The only place you can call home... is the dirt under yer feet. There isn't a mortuary fitting the likes of you... There isn't a place suitable enough for your death, right?

His Royal Highness... the master in the art of dying, aren't you?

It was time to face the consequences.

" But she could be still alive..." He tried to move, crawling another step ahead. " Still alive."

Eh? Alive?! His mind resonated with laughter.

"Like there has been somethin' alive after you. Hehehehehe, you're a mortician. What life are ya dreamin' of?

You cannot reach her. She is on the other side. Somewhere safe. Far away from you, hehe.

Where everyone should be. Until the end of times.

It's not something that would crush him. It has always been like that, everyone running away from him. He was fine with that. He even liked being alone.

A white coffin would fit her perfectly, don't ya think? Her ivory hands, holding a bouquet of snow-white roses. Beautiful.

"No. No, not her. Just not her." Undertaker ripped the matter on his chest in despair.

You are the mortician, there is no one else. You are going to be the one who buries her.

"Just not her." He breathed out, his body shivered at the thought of burying Ravenna. There was no way she could be dead. If she was... he needed his death scythe.

Uhhh, I'm bored. Come on, ya're gettin' late.

Late? For what?

You don't wanna miss the funeral.

God, no. She had to live. It was his fault, his mistake cost a life.

Oh, in fact you will. How sad, no one will be there to honor her. You'll be too dead for that.

At least there'll be someone to honor you, I'll be with you in your last moments... But you don't like that, do ya?

Everything is over.

Your life's not, hehe~.

That's true. He should make sure it's over too.

Admit it. You like it, don't ya? Destroying, ravaging everything in your way.

He liked it. Before. But now... not now. He didn't want to destroy now, he wanted to create, to construct and save. Was that impossible for someone like him?

For someone who has spent most of his life in destroying. Was there hope for someone like him? Or forgiveness?

"You cannot tell the difference between love and hate." Wasn't that it? "You've never filled your heart with anything." Sounds stupid, hehe.

Untrue for sure. We both know she's dead wrong, oh yes. Remember all these bodies, with skin as white as porcelain and lips, pale as the moonlight.

Their still eyes penetrating right through your soul. You did love them.

"That wasn't me!" Undertaker shout and turned sharply as if the voice came from behind him. "That was you."

You caressed their skin with such fondness. That was love and you can't deny it.

"Get off my mind." Undertaker demanded in a fume. An invisible enemy was not something he knew how to overpower.

Hmm, let's see. "You are a nonentity. I'll crush you like an insect. I'll carve your heart out and dismember you in tiny peaces, each buried in different places if you only dare to get near Ravenna without her permission."

Mmmm, we both know you badly wanted to realize that last part. Not really because of your white angel... You just didn't like his disgusting face, didn't you?

His flawless features were makin' you sick, you and your carved face were nothing like him.

Not to mention that he fancied yer angel very much... Oh, yes. You know what he had in mind, don't ya? Hehehehe... His eyes always scrutinizing her body in such a possessive way, I'm sure you've noticed.

She might be alive, as you say... Thinking that you've killed yourself somewhere... And I wonder who would comfort her then, if ya know what I mean...

"She won't... do such thing... she wouldn't..." Undertaker spoke angrily against the sodden ground, his fists clenched.

Glacis would, hehe.

"She's mine!" He whispered, lips trembling.

Ehhh, that's not quite true. After all, she has a choice. Between you and him, you are the insane one. I wouldn't pick ya... Anyway, you are capable of love and hate and your little angel is wrong.

Let's not forget what you really are, dear.

A damned sadist, that's what you are, heehehehehehe~ It's alright, though! It's alright. Laughter is the best way to overcome pain, isn't that right? There's nothing wrong with laughter.

"Die... Die!" He shouted again, leaning forehead helplessly on the frozen ground.

Why aren't ya laughing now, dear? You always do. You always do.

"No more."

Go on and I'll consume you completely, then... I'll make one hell of a party, hehe.

A party? Sounds nice. He was sick of being sad and regretful to his core, it felt like downgrading.

Yes, yes. It'd be so nice, you won't need worry about anything. I promise.

"You do?"

Yes, of course. You just have to stop fighting me. Is it so bad that I'm asking you to stop fighting? I can make you happy. Do you remember that condition?

"Happy? No... I don't."

Good. Let's begin with... the preparations. You don't keep your guests waitin', do ya?

Undertaker stood a few seconds without moving when suddenly opened his eyes and raised his head slowly.

"That's riiight~!" He giggled uncontrollably. "A dear guest of mine, she is. And she needs a lovely... lovely coffin."


Thanks for reading! That chapter was... well, I'll leave to you the commentary. Hope you won't judge too harshly.

Have a great day!