Author's Note: Well, what should I say? I'm a fan of both, ATLA and Black Butler/ Kuroshitsuji and I already wrote a few stories for each and also some crossovers. Here's another one, mainly because I think that Sebastian looks quite Fire Nation. I hope you enjoy it, please review.
Ba Sing Se, one year after the end of the war
Zuko and the Gaang walked through the city towards the Jasmine Dragon. They wanted to visit Zuko's uncle, since he was very dear to all of them. They wanted it to be a surprise visit, so they left Appa at the house they were given by the Earth King for their stay.
When they finally arrived at the tea shop the doors were closed. Apparently, Iroh had chosen not to open it this day of all days. Zuko was immediately alarmed. His uncle loved his tea shop and, on most days, would open it, no matter the difficulties. It had to be something serious. Maybe he fell ill or had an accident. Who knew, the old man lived alone, which beard the risk of him having an issue and nobody noticing it for quite a long time.
Thus, they hurried over to Iroh's apartment in the upper ring of Ba Sing Se. The door was locked, and the curtains shut. Zuko banged on the door to the apartment he once himself inhabited, "Uncle! Uncle! Are you in there? Are you okay? Uncle, open the door!", he was at this point really worried about the man who had been like a father to him for many years. No reaction came.
The Gaang looked at each other questioningly. What should they do now? Zuko came to a conclusion rather quickly and kicked the door in. He didn't care if his uncle would be mad at him, he was worried about Iroh and if he really was harmed, he would probably not be as mad about the door. The whole apartment was dark, just in one room was a little shine of fire.
Zuko mentioned for the others to stay back and carefully sneaked towards the room with what appeared to be lit candles. There he found his uncle, sitting in front of what appeared to be a small makeshift altar, several candles and some incense burning in front of it. Iroh looked scruffy, his clothing was somehow in disarray, his hair was not combed, his eyes red from crying and his hands were firmly gripping his knees while he breathed heavily.
Zuko somehow expected a picture of Lu Ten, Iroh's deceased son, at the top of the altar, but what he saw was a different one. It showed the face of a boy, maybe around ten years old. He had black hair that was cut short, no top knot, a few bangs hanging into his face. The boy smiled happily towards the viewer, but no inscription was to be found, as would've been usual to tell who was portrayed.
Hesitantly Zuko stepped into the room and carefully laid a hand on his uncle's shoulder. Iroh jumped at the sudden touch; he needed a few moments to regain a normal breathing rate. Did he really not hear the door being kicked in? He looked up into his nephew's worried face, then down on the portrait and on the ground again.
Zuko didn't dare to speak louder than a whisper, "Uncle, what are you doing? Who is this?".
Iroh smiled sadly, "You don't remember, Zuko? Of course, you don't, you were still a child back then after all. But please excuse my appearance today,", the old man ran a hand through his grey hair, "it is not an easy day, I'm sorry. What leads you here?", he asked as if Zuko would let the matter drop then, which he did not.
"We wanted to pay you a visit, uncle. Aang and the others are waiting outside. We were worried when we saw the shop closed, so we came here. And when you didn't open, I kicked your door in.", the Fire Lord said, earning a small "Oh" from his uncle, "now uncle, who is this you're mourning about?"
Iroh smiled sadly at his nephew, Zuko really was persistent, "This is the only picture I have of my second son, your cousin. He died twelve years ago, today.", tears streamed down the old man's face again.
Zuko stared at his uncle in utter disbelief. A second cousin? Why didn't he remember him?
Iroh saw the expression on his nephew's face and continued to explain, "He was about five years older than you; your father had forbidden him to play with you since you once fell into the garden pond. He had rescued you, but was only given the fault of letting you fall in. I… maybe I should start at the beginning. Do you want some tea, nephew?"
Zuko smiled at his uncle, "Of course, uncle.", he helped Iroh get up, the old man was shaking notably. When he was sure his uncle was standing securely, he walked out to the others and asked them to leave for today. He would tell them everything later. Then he leaned the door against it's former frame, just so that no one could enter on his own and returned to his uncle, who was by now in his kitchen, preparing tea.
The Fire Lord sat down at the small table and patiently waited for his uncle to serve the tea. It was a Jasmine tea, his uncle's favorite. The expression on his uncle's face though had not lit up a bit. Iroh let out a deep sigh before he began to tell the story.
"A few years after we had Lu Ten, my wife and I expected our second child. We were all thrilled about it, but our happiness was quickly and utterly destroyed when my wife… she went into labor far too early and did not survive childbirth.", Iroh paused for a moment, the grief visible in every of his features, "The midwives told me that at least, my son lived, but with such a sad tone in their voices that I thought that maybe he was going to die soon. But it was nothing with his health, their issue was that he was a non-bender, and they knew what a disgrace this would be for the royal family.
My father was probably informed about it before I was. Before I could figure out what I should do now, before I even held my new son in my arms my father stormed into the room where I sat. He had already banned my son from the line of succession and demanded that I should not name him.", Zuko looked surprised at his uncle, "This was no uncommon practice in our family. Because without a name, there is hardly any evidence of your existence at all,", a thought shot through Zuko's brain like lightning. There was no name on the boy's portrait, of course, if he had none. He felt pity for his cousin, to be treated this way.
Iroh sighed again, "It was a silent order that no one should have too much contact with him, he was largely on his own his whole life. Of course, he was provided for, but nothing more. My father hated him with every fiber of his body. I must admit shamefully that I obeyed my father and kept the contact with my son at the bare minimum. I was almost glad about the order, so I had an excuse not to be with him. He looked so much like his mother, especially since he had inherited her crimson eyes, that every time I looked at him, I saw her. I shouldn't have, but I made him responsible for her death. Thus, I didn't care for him as much as I should have. Not at all. Only when I came home from a campaign with Lu Ten and we were told that he died, I got aware of what I just lost.
My good friend Piandao came to me. He was apparently mourning as much as I did, if not more. He told me that my son was his student, that he earned himself that position. He told me a lot about my son's character which I hadn't care to notice. That he was a diligent student, not only in sword fighting, but willing to learn everything he could and be as perfect as he could, that because he was not able to firebend, he was willing to be perfect in everything else, to the extent of being cruel against himself if it would advance him in any way. I remember, he said how my son would practice making tea for days without sleeping, only so he could impress me with the quality of his tea once I'd come back. He also said that my son never blamed his treatment on me, but I knew better. I could have, I should have stood up to my father and fight for my son. I should've protected him better; I should've taken better care of him. And I cannot fix any of it, that is probably the worst of it. If he had lived, I could've apologized to him, but yet, I never even found out how he died.
When I returned from the campaign, it was already more than a month since he had passed. My father had denied him a grave in the royal tomb, even for him to be burned. Yet, I was not even able to locate his body.", with that Iroh buried his head in his hands and began crying again. Zuko felt incredibly helpless at the sight. The tragic of the story he had just heard and the sad scene in front of him really got to him. The next moment he pulled his uncle in a tight hug.
Phantomhive Manor, 1889
Sebastian was unsure what to do with this day. It was his twelfth anniversary, the day he had ceased to be a human being and began his new life as a demon. Should he celebrate that? In the end it was both the day of his death and somewhat a new birthday. Memories flooded his mind like they always did in such moments, but this was the only day he allowed himself to delve a bit into them.
Back then he had been up for several days only to find the perfect tea blend that would suit his father's exquisite taste. A lot of Jasmine, but also Ginseng mixed in with hacked Fire Lilies and Lotus flowers. His ten years old self was pretty proud of this achievement. Once his father came back, he would sure like this tea, and he would finally get a bit of the attention that he craved so dearly, maybe even praise.
Then a knock on the door, the imposing figure of his grandfather. The men that dragged him out of his room and deep down in the caves beneath Caldera. He had struggled, of course he had, he would never go down without putting up a fight. But he was only ten, and adults, all probably firebenders, dragged him towards an ancient altar deep beneath the city. It was covered with strange symbols, he would remember every centimeter of it, every carving in the stone, every crack that old age had left.
They chained his small body on the altar, he remembered one of them saying, "At least you will have some use for this nation. Once we completed the ritual, victory will be ours.", he remembered struggling against the chains, but to no avail. Then a sharp pain when the first dagger hit his chest. Then the second and so on. One should think that you become numb to the pain the longer it occurs, but he did not. The only thing he went numb to were the songs and prayers some figures in the distance sang.
Suddenly a change. All the candles and torches were blown out at the same time. Everyone in the room could feel it, something was approaching. The cultists, for lack of a better description, were frightened to the core as black feathers began emerging around the altar with the injured boy on it. He felt himself black out. The blood loss was more than substantial. He could feel that he was not drifting off into sleep, but into death. He closed his eyes, only for them to snap open moments later, glowing bright red with slim pupils.
Like his body just knew what to do, he let his instincts take over, brushing off the metal chains like they were nothing. Then the doors to the room slammed close. A third of the candles re-lit. He remembered how he slowly walked towards the people who had just a few moments ago rammed daggers into his body. The wounds were clearly visible at his naked chest. He licked some blood from his hand and noticed that his fingernails changed to their color to black, and a strange symbol forming at his right hand. He opened his mouth and his teeth had changed into those of a predatory animal. He licked his lips, still walking towards the cultists, "Oh my, I think you screwed something up, didn't you?". None of the cultists would ever leave the room again.
Sebastian had then left the Fire Nation. Of course, he could've continued with his killing spree, but he was still a child, though now demonic, and was somewhat afraid that his father and brother would come home, seeing him like that, seeing the monster he had become.
The bell to the study let Sebastian snap out of his memories. How were the odds that his young master wanted something sweet?