Those Gentle Slopes that Lead to Hell

by Severus divides into H

Proud. Unique. Determined. From the second Sebastian sensed Ciel Phantomhive's soul, he realized their contract would be different. He was ready for it. And so he waits. He hungers. He is getting obsessed. He will do anything to devour this soul, and the fragile attachment to the boy that has begun to spread its icy fingers in him will not stop him. He thinks. [SebaCiel].

16. Chapter 16: Game 6

Finally, here's the new chapter) Replies are at the end.

Chapter Sixteen: Game №6. Part 1.

Sebastian wouldn't shut up. Despite all orders.

"Once, my previous master's army was ambushed," he said, burning holes in Ciel's face with his stare. "The group of soldiers that surrounded us surpassed our size by at least three times. Despite the unexpectedness of the attack, it took me four and a half seconds to dispose of them."

"Stop bragging," Ciel grumbled. It took a tremendous effort to keep himself from yelling.

Sebastian, in his strange vocal mood, ignored his words and just changed stories.

"There was another dramatic instance I was involved in," he uttered. "I participated in the Egyptian war on behalf of one of my past masters. Her enemies hid in the sand, and when the moment came—"

"Will you shut up already!" Ciel exploded, throwing his book aside. The whole evening had been filled with this nonsense, and no matter how much he tried, Sebastian remained rooted to the spot in his office. "Why are you telling me this? When have I ever expressed the desire to know about your past?"

Sebastian blinked.

"I am merely correcting some of misconceptions you might have about me," he said carefully. "As your servant, I would like you to be confident in my abilities to protect you despite the unexpectedness or grandness of any attack."

Sometimes Ciel thought that Sebastian didn't understand English and was speaking his own version of it. What else could explain this bizarre conversation?

He opened his mouth to yell again, but Sebastian kept staring at him in clear anticipation, as if it was Ciel who owed him some explanation.

Taking a deep breath, Ciel forcibly calmed himself. When Sebastian was in one of these detached-from-humanity states, screaming ended with nothing. He had to be rational and to take control of the situation.

"What makes you think I doubt the state of your preparedness to repel an attack?" Ciel asked slowly. "To the point where you decided to poison my ears with these sickening heroic stories about your adventures?"

His new approach didn't work because now, Sebastian looked offended and even more mystified.

"You have expressed your doubts shortly after Madam Red's murder," he replied curtly. "As your faithful butler, I wanted to alleviate them."

Ciel froze, barely stopping his head from jerking up in alarm. Still, the sense of mortification that spread through him was so piercing, his hands twitched nervously before he took hold of them, too.

Had he accused Sebastian of something? Had they discussed that scene with Grell and those wretched, insipid memories?

No, it couldn't be. He would have remembered it.

Then again, some events from that night were lost in a fog. He couldn't be absolutely sure what conversations took place, especially at night, which was practically absent from his memory.

The pause was getting long — too long, so Ciel tsked in contempt and shook his head, pretending his temporarily speechlessness was the result of Sebastian's idiocy rather than the actual stupor.

Whatever his fevered mind could have come up with, it had to be related to those most undramatic dramatic memories Grell had extracted from Sebastian. He must have complained, and Sebastian decided to… what? To prove he'd been engaged in different fights? What did that have to do with anything?

"I don't have any doubts about you," Ciel said finally, maintaining a careful mask on his face. An ambiguous answer, a hint of a compliment, and a smooth change of direction to lead Sebastian away from this topic — that's what he needed. "I know exactly who you are, what you are capable of, and what you aren't capable of. Nothing you tell me is going to affect it."

Sebastian tilted his head, mulling over it, looking like he wasn't sure whether he found the answer pleasing or offensive. Good. On to the compliment and a change of direction, then.

"If I thought you were unable to protect me, I would have gotten rid of you ages ago," Ciel added. "Now, as for what you can't do… You are clearly useless in taking care of my education. How much longer do I have to wait until you find me new teachers? I was very clear about my request but you still haven't hired anyone."

"Yes, of course," Sebastian straightened, a new glint entering his eyes. "I apologise, my lord. I will bring my potential replacement the day after tomorrow — I've already selected five individuals whom I'm certain you'll find intellectually stimulating."

Such a short and relatively concise reply, and yet it had so many implications that Ciel's mind nearly cracked in its haste to identify each of them.

If Sebastian called new teachers 'potential replacement', he was still displeased with Ciel's decision to find someone new to educate him, meaning that he was going to twist every order and sabotage the entire process in whatever way he could. 'Intellectually stimulating' was a strange choice of a phrase too, so whomever Sebastian had picked, Ciel would have to be wary. And finally, if he had already selected five new teachers, why hadn't he said anything until now?

Something wasn't right.

Sebastian watched him attentively, amusement hiding in the curve of his lips, and the more Ciel frowned, the more pronounced it got.

"Fine," Ciel muttered. "I'll be expecting them. Do they have any references?"

"The best ones," Sebastian grinned, revealing a set of teeth, each of them emanating unbearable smugness. Ciel shuddered.

Yes. The sabotage was already in progress, that much was evident. He just had to understand what it involved.

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The feeling of doom intensified when Sebastian came to his office next morning, wearing an innocent expression and claiming that all five teachers came from afar and had no accommodation.

"No accommodation," Ciel repeated slowly. "They are all homeless. Is that what you are telling me?"

"They had to leave their homes to accept this position," Sebastian explained, his voice nonchalant, as if what he was saying made perfect sense. "They will have to stay in the manor until they find an appropriate dwelling. Would that be all right with you, Young Master?"

Five strangers with dubious references in his home. Sebastian wasn't even trying to make his little scheme believable.

"There is something very wrong with each of them, isn't there?" Ciel asked, his voice resigned. "You are bringing the worst representatives of humanity you could find into my house. Should I expect to be stabbed in the back by each of them?"

"Are you accusing me of not being diligent in my approach to your education?" Sebastian widened his eyes in fake astonishment and Ciel narrowed his in response.

"I'm sure you don't consider anyone but yourself a worthy educator," he snorted. "So it's not about education at all, it's you turning my perfectly clear orders into a game. And you know what? I might just play along," Ciel allowed a small smile to spread across his lips, and it grew when Sebastian blinked, this time in genuine surprise.

"I'm not sure what you mean, my lord," he said cautiously. "If you imply—"

"We are going to make a bet," Ciel interrupted him decisively. "I will figure out what's wrong with each of these five delinquents you've found. If I succeed, you will provide a full, direct answer to my question, whatever it is. One question per one solved mystery."

"And what if you don't succeed?" Sebastian leaned forward in fascinated interest, and for a moment, the shape of his body became blurred, as if he forgot to keep it under control and nearly slid towards him in a dark, shapeless mass. Ciel stared, taken aback, but the growing silence quickly helped him to recover.

"The same rules apply to you," he suggested.

"The same rules," Sebastian echoed, taking another step closer. His eyes were lit with calculating greed, as if he had already won and was considering the worth of his prize. "One question per one solved mystery?"

"And a complete, honest answer to it," Ciel reminded him. He truly doubted there was anything Sebastian wanted to know about him, but he was also aware of how demons — at least how this particular demon — functioned. Sebastian would be overwhelmed with glee at the idea of asking something inappropriate and startling, something Ciel would have slapped him for in any other situation. "No evasions. No distortion of truth or omissions."

"No using the contract to refuse to answer?" Sebastian wondered silkily, and Ciel squared his shoulders.

"No using the loopholes in the contract?" he countered. There was a pause, and then, gradually, Sebastian smiled.

"Deal," he purred, and the arrogance he emanated was amusing and exasperating at once. Ciel morphed the expression on his face until it matched Sebastian's.

"Deal," he agreed.

He was going to enjoy his victory. And he would be victorious — there could be no other option here.

After all, it wasn't about winning. It wasn't about the reward either, it was about seeing Sebastian lose. Ciel had already lost to him many times, in every single way, and the need to come out superior in something, anything, was quickly turning into a full-blown obsession.

Sebastian kept effortlessly shattering the calm and indifference he had been cultivating within himself. Now, it was his turn to do the same.

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Ciel prepared in advance. Sebastian was an utter bastard, but he wasn't as creative as he thought himself to be. What kind of people would he hire to make Ciel's life difficult, to take him aback and make him look like a fool?

He'd said these teachers had references. If Ciel had to take one guess, he'd put his money on Lau as the source who recommended them, and since Lau's business revolved around criminals, the options were quite limited.

Now, what kind of criminals would Sebastian pick? They probably wouldn't be total idiots — they'd have to be able to blend in for some time, which meant they had to know the subjects they were supposed to teach at least on a basic level. If Ciel fired them after the first lesson, Sebastian's plan would be ruined, so chances were, these people did have a minimal teaching experience.

A thief. A drug addict. A kidnapper. A forger. And someone to top them all, a hidden ace up Sebastian's sleeve… a murderer? An assassin?

Some of these options had to be wrong. At least about three had to be correct because how many types of criminals could there be? They were all predictable and frankly boring after all this time. Or maybe Sebastian had tried especially hard and found someone Ciel had no chance of guessing?

Humming thoughtfully, he folded the piece of paper and put it in his pocket, trying to ignore the excitement that flowed through him with intensifying heat.

He would be attentive. He would be thorough. But to do that effectively, he'd have to weaken the vigilance of his teachers first... And there was no better disguise than that of a vulnerable child.

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When the front door opened and new voices filled the hall, Ciel took a moment to force his excited heart to slow down. Then he grinned like a maniac and rushed downstairs.

"Sebastian!" he shrieked. "Sebastian, please tell me my teachers are here! I've been waiting for so long, I couldn't possibly stand another day not knowing!"

He crashed into Sebastian, not even glancing in the direction of five strangers standing with the suitcases clutched in their hands.

"Oh, sorry!" Ciel backed away, still grinning. "Are they here? Did you bring them with you?"

Sebastian stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, and if they weren't being watched, Ciel would have collapsed from laughter.

"The boy cannot see?" a woman in a bright red coat exclaimed. "You didn't tell me Earl Phantomhive was blind."

"I—" Sebastian uncharacteristically stumbled over the words. "That is— Yes. I'm afraid his condition—"

"You really are here!" Ciel turned in the direction of the voice, deliberately staring at the space between the woman who'd spoken and a tall frowning man. "I'm sorry for not greeting you properly. Sebastian never specifies what and when he's planning on doing, the forgetful simpleton."

"I'm sure it was a misunderstanding," the woman said again, trying to catch his eye. "I'm Lady Rosemore, your new Geography teacher. Forgive me for not introducing myself immediately, I was taken aback by your… disability."

Not a noble, Ciel thought, making sure his eye widened in horror. But perhaps she had served the noble family in some small way before.

"Oh no!" he uttered. "Don't tell me Sebastian really hasn't said anything about it. Has he? To any of you?"

There was a collective "no" muttered, and Ciel released a sorrowful sigh.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "The blindness is new, and Sebastian must have forgotten… I don't want people to know, but as my teachers, of course you'll have to… I hope it won't be…"

His voice trembled, and then everyone was talking at once, offering heated reassurances, and Sebastian was drilling a hole in him with his stare.

Ciel could already smell victory.

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"You cannot do this," Sebastian hissed into his ear as he was filling his cup of tea, keeping a small courteous smile on his face for others' benefit. "This wasn't a part of our arrangement."

"I can't believe this is coming from a demon," Ciel muttered back. "If something isn't specified, then it can be done. Honestly, do I have to teach you demon basics now?"

Sebastian leaned closer, and his breath warmed Ciel's ear as he whispered, "You will still lose."

Shivering, Ciel fought hard not to direct a glare at him, shrugging his shoulders instead.

"Watch me," he said softly.

"When would you like to start your lessons, my lord?" Lady Rosemore asked, and Ciel blinked in her direction. With how talkative she was, he'd have to push her to the top of his list. She was applying too many efforts to appear normal.

"As soon as possible," he told her. "I hope we'll all know each other better after this dinner, and tomorrow, we'll get started. You can do whatever you want in your free time, though — I want you to feel comfortable here."

"What happened to your previous teachers?" a History professor asked warily.

"Oh, I didn't have any," Ciel stared at his plate morosely, his hand fumbling about in search of a cup. "Sebastian has been teaching me, but he isn't very good. I kept asking him to hire someone else but he kept refusing. I was so happy when I finally managed to convince him."

With a corner of his eye, he could see how all teachers exchanged glances, and he hastened to bring the cup closer to his lips to a hide a smile.

Now they were thinking he was foolish and gullible, unable to get his butler to comply with his orders. Good. They'd probably pretend to be flawless and professional for a few days, but then they'd grow more confident and start showing their true selves, not worrying about the punishment and not holding themselves back in his presence.

Ciel would give this game a week at most. With his idea to pretend to be blind, it was almost disappointingly easy.

"Finnie," Sebastian called suddenly. His voice wasn't loud, but a moment later, Finnie stumbled into the room, holding a tray with something.

"My lords! My ladies," he blurted out, trying to bow his head and carry the tray to the table simultaneously. Serving the table wasn't Finnie's job — which meant he was here as a part of Sebastian's plan. And Ciel could even guess what it was about.

"Remember to serve Earl Phantomhive first," Sebastian warned Finnie as he finally reached the table. "After all, he is blind. He needs more attention."

"Yes, sure, I remember," Finnie hurried to him, and Ciel raised his eyebrows at Sebastian, whose bewilderment quickly turned into sourness. Did he think Ciel hadn't arranged everything with his servants in advance, that his plan was spontaneous and half-baked? As if it would ever happen.

Finnie, predictably, managed to break the tray, and Ciel took his time in comforting him, very aware of all the speculative gazes trained on him. So far, he had scored an impressive number of points while all Sebastian had done was bring the pieces aboard. If things progressed like this, he'd be done in four days, never mind a week.

By the end of the dinner, Ciel had enough information about his guests to draw preliminary conclusions, so with an apologetic smile, he retired, making a show with his cane as he tried to reach the door.

In the safety of his room, he threw it aside and hopped on the bed, pulling out his list from the pocket.

Five people. Five potential crimes that could happen.

Lady Rosemore, a Geography teacher. A woman who was practically bursting with energy, talking all the time and trying to remain at the centre of attention in every conversation. She tried very hard to be likable — she kept jumping to help Finnie, then Sebastian; she even tried to cut Ciel's meat for him! This was either overcompensation or an awkward attempt to create a disguise. Maybe she was a kidnapper or an assassin? Trying to get on Ciel's good side, use his trustfulness against him, and then fall back on the reputation she'd have built.

Mr. Aimens, the Math teacher, was mostly silent. He asked who Ciel's tailor was and that was it, so he'd have to collect more data.

Mrs. Wordson was supposed to teach music, and while she also remained silent for the biggest part, whenever she spoke, it came out as a demand. Domineering and harsh — an addict who couldn't control her temper?

Miss Taylor taught French, and she was quietly caring and regal. She didn't do much, but she kept watching Ciel with troubled eyes, emanating sympathy, and she was painfully polite even when Lord Whitmore made a derogative joke about her.

Whitmore, in turn, kept being loud and crude. He had an opinion about everything and everyone, and he kept asking questions about the Phantomhives' family tree. Maybe it was his professional interest in history, or maybe he was a thief.

Tomorrow, after the lessons started, Ciel would have a chance to analyse each of them separately. They'd drop their masks very quickly, thinking he's blind and cannot see them.

Sebastian was going to be a problem, but Ciel was ready for him. He wouldn't let his antics ruin his success.

As if having overheard his thoughts, Sebastian slipped inside. He was still wearing a sour expression, and Ciel grinned, pushing himself up on his elbows.

"Have you come to surrender?" he wondered. Sebastian pursed his lips, gazing at him.

"You haven't won yet," he said mildly. "Your plan might help you to identify some of them, but not everyone. I wouldn't want to dash your hopes, my lord, but you are still going to lose."

"Oh, am I?" Ciel laughed in disbelief. "That's why you are in such an excellent humour?"

Sebastian was silent. His gaze lingered on Ciel's neck before moving up to his face.

"We will see," he said, and then a crooked, arrogant smile bloomed on his lips, bringing life to his features. Leisurely, he walked closer and offered his hand, and Ciel accepted it automatically, even as he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Preparing you for bed, of course," Sebastian started unbuttoning his sleeve with one hand, his other one still grasping Ciel's fingers lightly. Shaking off the sudden dizziness, Ciel frowned.

"An abrupt change of mood," he noted thoughtfully. "Either you are trying to cheer yourself up in this pathetic way or you've thought of something that, in your opinion, will hinder my progress."

"And how far does your progress extend?" Sebastian asked curiously. Ciel shrugged.

"I'm sure that a thief and a murderer are spending the night in my house today," he drawled. "I have some ideas about the rest of them, too, but nothing I'm willing to disclose to you at this point."

"Would you like a tip?" Sebastian brushed against Ciel's shoulders, his touch still featherly light, more teasing than impersonal like it had to be.

"I'm tempted to say yes just to see how outrageous your lies are going to be," Ciel told him, relieved that his voice was firm and undisturbed. "But no, thank you. I'll be done in no time anyway — devising games isn't your specialty, that much is obvious. Or maybe it's your age tempering with your abilities. How old are you again?"

"Since you haven't won yet, your question will have to wait," Sebastian stepped away, critically appraising his appearance, like Ciel was about to greet someone important rather than go to bed.

"After I win, I'll ask different questions," Ciel retorted. Sebastian let out a pleased chuckle, and then he bent over slightly, his fingers tipping Ciel's chin up. The touch was barely there, but it still sent a jolt through his body, filling it with tingling electricity.

"Blindness was an ingenious move," Sebastian murmured, his lips stretching in something that couldn't be classified as a human smile. "Most of them will make a mistake, but even if you catch it, you won't understand who they are until they commit a crime. And that means that you won't triumph."

Ciel's heart fluttered, beating too eagerly for his tastes, so he smirked, steadily ignoring the familiar yet still confusing feeling that was warmly washing over his innards. He hooked Sebastian's chin with his own fingers, mirroring his movement, and made sure to speak just as silkily when he said, "Maybe it has escaped your notice, but people are arrogant. Especially those who disregard the Queen and deliberately break her laws. They want to boast of what they do, but due to the nature of their activities, they can't afford it. With my blindness, they won't be able to resist. They'll try to commit their crimes right in front of me, secure in knowledge that they will remain unpunished. None of them will fight the temptation, so no matter whom you've chosen, I'm going to guess it. And I'm going to win."

Sebastian's eyes flared with redness, his pupils blown wide, and the glee that whirled in Ciel in response was just as intoxicating as the dizziness Sebastian's touch had evoked.

He wanted to win, now and always. He wanted to make Sebastian see only him in his mind even hundreds of years later, when their contract became a distant memory. He wanted to stand out, he wanted to be remembered, and he wanted it specifically from this demon, who might just as well represent eternity itself. He wanted it, and being a Phantomhive, if he wanted something, he would get it. He would tear out his victory even if he had to order Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finnie to torture the information out of those so-called teachers.

"You can leave now," Ciel breathed out, and this time, it was Sebastian who looked dazed. Giving a sharp bow, he walked out of the room without comments, and Ciel laughed in delight, throwing himself back onto the bed.

He had never looked forward to lessons as much as he did now.

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History was first on his schedule. Ciel took his place, staring above Whitmore's shoulder obediently, registering every frown and suspicious look thrown his way.

"Before we begin, may I ask you a question, your lordship?" Whitmore uttered. He tried to speak politely, but arrogance and impatience were bursting through, and Ciel barely managed to swallow down a weary sigh. Dealing with incompetents was the worst chore imaginable.

"Of course, anything you want!" he said cheerfully.

"Your reputation as the Queen's Watchdog is impressive. It has reached many corners of England. No one ever spoke about your blindness, and that made me wonder, how do you manage to fulfil your obligations in such an admirable way? The criminal networks you've dismantled… the people you killed…" Mockery sounded in every word, but there was also suspicion, so Ciel slumped his shoulders, letting his lower lip tremble.

"I can tell you," he muttered after a pause. "But you have to promise not to share this with anyone. I mean it. If people knew, my reputation wouldn't survive it."

"I assure you, everything you say will stay between us," Whitmore swore, and Ciel didn't have to stare at him to know how excited he looked. The poor man.

"I hire special people who take care of such things," he whispered. "I have a whole team. When they start or finish some investigation, I just make an appearance so it would look like I'm the one doing everything."

"Really?" Whitmore made a strange noise, something between a snort and a chuckle. "That's very clever. I would have never guessed it."

"Right?" Ciel jumped to his feet in fake excitement and swayed, pretending to lose his bearings. Whitmore hurried to help him to find a balance, and this close, Ciel could see how the worry faded from his face. Now he looked condescending and happy, as if he'd uncovered an answer to the question that had been plaguing him all his life.

"You should be proud of yourself," he uttered, his grave voice a stark contrast to his amused expression. "Your family would also be proud. Are they all dead?"

"Yes," Ciel sat back down, wringing his hands. "I do have an aunt and a cousin, but we rarely see each other."

"And is this manor a family house? Have the Phantomhives always lived here?"

Could it really be this easy?

"Yes," Ciel confirmed again. "We keep inheriting this place generation after generation."

"Does it mean that a family cemetery is also somewhere nearby?"

…All right, this was startling. Ciel hesitated, surprised, and Whitmore hurried to add.

"I would like to pay my respects to a wonderful family who produced such a wonderful son."

Just how idiotic did this man think Ciel was? Although perhaps it was better not to ask.

"It's just outside the gates," Ciel said carefully, and Whitmore beamed at him.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Now, let's get started. How much do you know about the history of London?"

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Whitmore wasn't a terrible teacher, but his knowledge seemed to revolve about the events connected with gold and jewellery. It reinforced the idea of him being a thief, but why the cemetery?

Ciel resolved to consider it later. His remaining two lessons for today were French and Music, and to his disappointment, nothing particularly interesting or insightful happened there. Miss Taylor and Mrs. Wordson were different as day and night, that was all Ciel could say with certainty.

The former was sweet, concise, and as caring as she'd been during dinner yesterday. She listened to Ciel with rapture that seemed genuine. Her rebukes were kind, and she didn't ask any incriminating questions. If Sebastian hadn't brought her, Ciel would think she was a perfectly normal teacher, but as it was, he just had to dig deeper.

The latter was rude and domineering. Ciel wasn't sure she cared whether he was blind or not, she clearly couldn't stand him and kept showering him with more and more biting insults. His evaluation of her had gone from obnoxious to deranged, but being deranged wasn't a crime, so… drugs? Though nothing but aggression was evident, at least for now. There was also the fact that Ciel actually deserved all the criticism Mrs. Wordson had unleashed on him. He couldn't play an instrument and pretend to be blind successfully, so he kept overdoing it, making mistake after mistake.

All in all, these two women were frustrating. It meant that today, Whitmore would have to be his target.

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Ciel pretended he went along with Sebastian's evening ritual. He obediently allowed him to undress him, prepare him for bed, and wish him a good night. Five minutes after Sebastian was gone, he put the clothes back on, slipped away from his room, and went downstairs. Sure, demon hearing was impressive, but he hoped that with so many people in the house, Sebastian wouldn't keep a particularly close watch on him.

In the hall, he took a place behind one of the couches, pressing his back to it, and closed his eyes.

No one was going to notice him here in the dark, and since the staircase was in the vicinity, he would hear every movement of every guest if one of them decided to take a trip somewhere. Spending the entire night awake wasn't going to be easy, but Ciel hoped that if something were to happen, it would have to be sooner rather than later. The closer to the dawn, the more chances there were of the servants waking, and no criminals would risk it.

Time was passing excruciatingly slowly. He couldn't use the light, so in the end, Ciel just tried to concentrate on the silence. He might not be a demon but he could also train his hearing. If he listened hard enough, maybe he would start recognising the sources of the small, barely audible sounds the house was filled with.

Bard was probably the one snoring loud enough to shake the roof. Someone was coughing — the sound was very distant and quiet, but it was there. Sounded like a male, so Whitmore? Or Aimens? Not Sebastian for sure.

What was Sebastian doing during the night, anyway? Did he fall asleep? Did he leave the manor and stayed around to keep vigil? Maybe he was writing something in that huge book of his. He claimed it was for accounting purposes but Ciel wasn't sure he bought it. Weren't demons supposed to keep all numbers in memory? Or maybe he was overestimating them. With how dumb Sebastian could be…

"My lord?" a voice asked politely, and Ciel jumped, his heart nearly flying out of his chest.

"Sebastian!" he hissed, incensed. From his position and with such impenetrable darkness around, he couldn't see anything, particularly as Sebastian seemed to be wearing something entirely black. Huffing, Ciel randomly thrust his hand forward and found a sleeve.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"That was exactly the question I came to ask you," Sebastian retorted. He stood immovable, and Ciel tugged at his sleeve petulantly.

"How did you know I'm not in my bedroom?" he asked. "Do you come by and watch me sleep at night?"

"No," Sebastian replied slowly. He tried to pull his hand back, but Ciel just tugged at it again, hoping to be annoying enough to provoke a reaction that would be more interesting than this polite reserve. "I can tell you are not in the room every time I pass by."

"How?" Ciel tugged at the sleeve again, and this time, it was Sebastian who huffed.

"What are you doing?" he said, exasperation laced with confusion in his voice.

"That was exactly the question I asked you," Ciel mimicked. "And which I still haven't received a reply to."

"You are being such a br—"

Ciel jerked him by the sleeve with particular force, and he could swear Sebastian growled a little.

"No insulting your Master," he ordered. "Tell me how you determine when I'm not in the room with such precision."

"I know your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing," Sebastian said, then paused. Even in the darkness, Ciel could sense the disbelief radiating from him, as if Sebastian was taken aback by his own reply. "But mostly because of the seal," he added. "It helps me to locate your presence at all times."

"I know that," Ciel uttered thoughtfully. He guessed it was the seal, of course he did, but why hadn't Sebastian mentioned it first? Was it not connected to him being able to recognise Ciel's heartbeat and breathing? Why list them separately?

How could a heartbeat of one person differ from that of the rest, anyway?

"Which brings us to a—" Sebastian started, but then one of the doors upstairs creaked open, and this time, Ciel yanked him by the sleeve with genuine urgency, forcing him to flop down.

"Shut up now," he warned in reply to Sebastian's displeased grunt. "If you do something to ruin my plan, I'm going to consider it my victory, and I'll kick Whitmore out right away."

Now, Sebastian was close enough for Ciel to see his face, so he immediately registered how the realisation flickered across it before turning into annoyed scowl.

"Exactly," Ciel whispered, satisfied. "You shouldn't have picked him, he's too obvious. Couldn't keep his secret even for one day."

"I thought you said we have to be quiet," Sebastian drawled.

"No, I said you have to shut up," Ciel retorted, but fell silent when someone started to carefully walk down the stairs. It was impossible to say if it was indeed Whitmore, but Ciel was ready to bet on it. With his impatience and interest in the Phantomhives together with their cemetery, he was the likeliest one to go out tonight.

Ciel waited for the front door to close. Then, just as silently, he got up and rushed to the window, hoping to catch the glimpse of the retreating figure.

Whitmore. And he was hurrying towards the gates.

With a triumphant smirk, Ciel turned to Sebastian.

"Would you like to accompany me?" he asked smugly. "And to see your first defeat personally?"

"You are certain you've won, then?" Sebastian crossed his arms against his chest. "If so, why don't you tell me who Whitmore is? The bet was about you identifying each of the pieces before they are revealed."

Ciel wasn't entirely sure how to label Whitmore, but he could always use the information he did possess to omit the bits he doubted.

"Whitmore asked me if my family was buried here," Ciel enunciated, sending Sebastian a long, deeply unimpressed look. "He said he's going to visit the cemetery. Then he kept talking about gold and jewellery, and now, not surprisingly, he sneaked out and is moving in that very direction. Do you still want me to provide you with definition?"

The way the corners of Sebastian's lips turned down was so funny that Ciel grinned, enjoying the mirth bubbling in his chest.

"You inability to lose is unbecoming," he announced. "Now come with me. You'll have to be the one to get rid of him."

Not waiting for what would undoubtedly be a sullen remark, Ciel left the house and walked leisurely towards the cemetery. He wanted to give Whitmore a few minutes to get started, but at the same time, a kernel of worry started to grow, drowning out the joy and eating at his confidence.

What if he was wrong? Maybe this wasn't Whitmore at all. Maybe he wasn't interested in the cemetery and had already slipped away somewhere, melting into the night.

But no, Sebastian had looked annoyed, maybe even resigned. It had to count for something. If Ciel was wrong, Sebastian would have been marching before him, not trailing behind like he was. He would want to see Ciel's face and enjoy his own triumph.

With the doubts chased away, Ciel hastened his pace, and sweet relief rushed through his veins, pleasantly warming his blood, when he saw Whitmore with a shovel in his hands, digging around one of the gravestones.

"Well, well, well," Ciel drawled, and Whitmore jumped before freezing in horror. "Is that how you show appreciation to my family? By trying to defile their resting place?"

"I—" Whitmore stammered and awkwardly hid the shovel behind his back. "It's not that, my lord, I swear it. I was just hoping to see—" he gesticulated, his face getting paler and paler. "A grave," he finished lamely.

"A grave," Ciel repeated. His amusement and joy were lazily entwining into a light-hearted need for entertainment, so he looked at Sebastian, raising an eyebrow.

"Did you hear what my teacher said?" he asked. "He wanted to see a grave. How about you dig one just for him?"

"What?" Whitmore backed away. "I don't, it's really not what you think, I meant no disrespect. I was just about… wait!" he stopped suddenly, his eyes growing large. "You can see!"

"You are extremely slow for a criminal," Ciel shrugged. "I'm not surprised I caught you first. You are the most impatient, crude, and obvious among the other idiots Sebastian hired."

Whitmore tried to say something, but his voice was shaking too badly, and after a while, listening to it stopped being entertaining.

"Sebastian. The man is waiting for a grave, why are you still standing there?"

Sebastian's lips parted in a predatory grin.

"I shall change it right away, my lord," he murmured. The next second, Whitmore yelped. The shovel was gone from his hands, and a few moments later, there was a deep fresh hole dug in the ground, farther away from the Phantomhives' graves.

"H-how did… how…" Whitmore shook his head and started rubbing his eyes, over and over again. "This is a nightmare, it must be. Such things don't happen, they can't, it must be a—"

"If you have such an avid interest in cemeteries, I don't see why you find the idea of otherworldly forms of life so astonishing," Ciel pointed out. "Don't you know a demon is hiding behind each gravestone? Cemeteries attract them."

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"That is blatantly untrue," he announced.

"Well, this is a cemetery and you are a demon. You are here. This proves my argument."

"You can't prove an argument when you disregard context."

"Who needs context when the outcome is this clear?"

Letting out an incomprehensible sound, Whitmore turned and broke into a run. Ciel frowned, following him with his gaze before snapping it to Sebastian.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to drag him back or do you need an additional order?"

Sebastian sighed, and then a gust of wind cut through the air, making Ciel blink. Before he could blink again, Sebastian reappeared, holding the violently struggling Whitmore as if he weighted nothing.

"Should I kill him, Young Master?" he inquired, and Whitmore wheezed, clawing at his hand.

"No," Ciel denied. "You should bury him."

He tried to hide a smile when Sebastian's eyebrows began to rise.

"Kill him and bury him?" he clarified.

"No," Ciel explained patiently. "Just the latter. It should take care of the former, don't you think?"

Sebastian's eyes lit up. Whitmore, on the other hand, looked on the verge of passing out.

"L-look," he breathed out, " I got into this house for a wrong reason. I admit it, see? There is n-no need to keep, to keep, to keep scaring me! I just wanted to see if maybe your family was buried with some jewellery and other… other things that could have historical value. I didn't intend to disrespect them, I swear, so please, just let me go! I won't—"

"Are you testing my patience deliberately?" Ciel stared at Sebastian. "Do what I said."

Whitmore screamed then, and Sebastian grimaced, pushing him away.

"No need to be so loud," he rebuked. "There is not a single person in the vicinity who will come to assist you."

"Please!" Whitmore yelled. "Please, I beg you, I—"

Sebastian threw him down the hole, then looked at his gloves in despair.

"I haven't brought another pair," he uttered. "Would you mind waiting for a moment, Master? I'll be right back."

"Are you afraid to contract some kind of human disease?" Ciel asked, genuinely mystified. Why Sebastian was so obsessed with ridiculous details was beyond him. "Just do it in dirty gloves or take them off altogether. It's not like seeing your nails is going to scare him any more than he already is."

Sebastian let out a long sigh, but he did take off the gloves and hid them in his pocket. Whitmore was trying to claw his way back to the surface, and Sebastian threw the first shovel of dirt on his head.

Ciel watched dispassionately, taking in the screams, the tears, and the incoherent begging. When Whitmore disappeared from view, he spent the next several minutes in silence.

"Shall we go back?" Sebastian asked casually.

"Dig him out, send him on his way, and we'll go," Ciel agreed. From the blank stare he received, Sebastian clearly hadn't figured out his intention.

"What?" Ciel arched his eyebrow. "Did you really think I would let him die here?"

"But—" Sebastian shook his head, bemused. "Why did I bury him, then?"

"To teach him a lesson. I doubt he's going to go near another grave ever again."

A myriad of emotions passed through Sebastian's face. Finally, his expression turned sneering, and his voice was much colder, with no trace of mirth when he asked, "Are you too soft-hearted to finish what you have planned? Does the idea of a man slowly suffocating under your feet upset you?"

"No," Ciel kept his own voice even. Sebastian's sneer twisted and grew uglier.

"Then what?"

"Did you believe I was going to leave some stealing stranger buried next to my family? At our cemetery? Are you out of your mind?"

The coldness shattered, giving way to bewilderment.

"That makes sense," Sebastian said slowly, almost in wonder, and Ciel narrowed his eyes, amused and insulted both.

Sebastian's reaction was boringly predictable. Ciel might still have the power to take him aback, but Sebastian always followed the same pattern of behaviour. Any hint at a weakness, and he pounced like a mindless traitor he was, salivating over the idea of terminating their contract sooner.

That made the question Ciel was planning on asking him all the more fitting. And it should feel nice to be right, shouldn't it?

"People often make sense," he said, his voice coming out colder than he'd intended. "If you still have problems with understanding them, it's on you. I don't have time for your idiocy. Dig him out and let him leave. He'll keep his life but not his sanity, and he'll be a walking reminder of what happens to people who try to cross me."

Not waiting for Sebastian's reply, Ciel whirled on his heel and strode towards the manor, his joyful mood gone, replaced by spite and bitterness.

Sebastian always had to go and ruin everything. They could be allies one second and the next one, he was ready to turn on him. Ciel had come to expect it by now, but it didn't make him any less angry.

At least he'd won. And he was going to keep winning.

There was some comfort in knowing that.

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No one showed concern or surprise over Whitmore's absence. If anything, everyone seemed pleased that he was gone, and there were no suspicious questions asked.

This day, Ciel had Math with Mr. Aimens and Geography with Lady Rosemore, but to his disappointment, even after several hours, there was nothing definite he could say about them. Sure, Mr. Aimens seemed to prefer looking at his shoulders instead of his face, and Lady Rosemore alternated between gossiping about things Ciel had no interest in and worrying over him like he was her accident-prone child, but it was difficult to say if it was relevant or if maybe these were just their personal peculiarities.

It was too early to start worrying, but Ciel's mood was still rapidly deteriorating. There were four people he knew nothing about now. Mrs. Wordson was probably closest to bringing him victory — her violent personality had to be the defining characteristic of her crime, but Ciel had no idea how to break others.

He'd have to initiate personal discussions with them himself, then. Invite them for a cup of afternoon tea one by one and pretend to be interested in knowing them better.

For today, Ciel chose Mr. Aimens.

"I hope you don't mind?" he asked hopefully, fidgeting in his chair. "I loved our lesson today and I really want to ask you a few questions."

"I understand," Aimens said. His eyes were fixed on Ciel's arms this time, so Ciel didn't even need to try hard to look blind. "It'll be my honour."

"Have you always been interested in Math?"

"All my life," Aimens' eyes flickered to Ciel's face for a second before returning to his arms. "My father was a mathematician. My grandfather, too. And his father and grandfather respectively."

Ciel nodded, swallowing an annoyed sigh.

This was going to be boring.

After a minute filled with dry, uninspiring rambling, Sebastian entered the room with a tray in his hands. Since he was moving quietly, Ciel couldn't allow himself to react to his appearance, so he kept staring at Aimens with what he hoped passed for an intense, oblivious interest.

Still, he kept track of Sebastian with his peripheral vision. That's why he noticed how he raised the cup from the tray, displaying it for a moment.

What was this about?

Despite his curiosity, Ciel kept his eye on Aimens. He caught a glimpse of a smile that instantly sent a thrum of wariness through his body, and then Sebastian threw the cup right at his face.

There was time to duck or at least try to beat it off. Ciel's body screamed for it, the instincts viciously attempting to overtake his mind and force him to move, so all he could do was dig his fingers into the table and ignore them. He only hoped that Aimens didn't notice how he shut his eye prior to the impact, the only thing he'd failed to control.

Sebastian hadn't applied all his force for the throw or Ciel wouldn't have even noticed the cup until it crashed into him, but it still hit him hard enough, making him flinch and gasp, with the dull, bruising pain rapidly spreading through his cheekbone. At least the tea was lukewarm, but it was soaking through his clothes now, and stopping himself from yelling at Sebastian was even harder than not reacting to the cup thrown at his head.

"Oh!" Aimens exclaimed. He sounded genuinely distressed, and Ciel blinked in his direction. "You should change your clothes, Lord Phantomhive, or they'll be ruined."

Clothes? Seriously, this was what worried him?

That took him from quirky to downright strange.

"I apologise, my lord," Sebastian said, so perfectly remorseful that Ciel could vomit. Preferably on his head. "I tripped."

"It's nothing," Ciel pushed out, trying to smile. "Just help me change."

"Of course."

"Mr. Aimens, would it be all right if we had tea some other time? Tomorrow, perhaps?"

"Yes, yes, don't worry about it," Aimens nodded frantically. "Don't let me keep you waiting."

Strange was, perhaps, too kind of a word for him.

Smiling tightly, Ciel stood up and moved towards the stairs, careful to continue pretending he couldn't see where he was going. It felt like years had passed before he finally reached his room, and as soon as Sebastian closed the door, he hissed, "What the hell was that about?"

Fake remorseful expression was gone from Sebastian's face. His eyes lingered on Ciel's hurting cheekbone briefly, with something — unease? displeasure? annoyance? — flickering there before he shrugged.

"I had complete faith that you would be able to catch the cup," he said mildly. "I apologise for my miscalculation."

"Miscalculation?!" Ciel gaped incredulously. "You wanted to sabotage me! You thought I would betray that I'm not blind right in front of Aimens!"

"May I remind you, my lord, that it was your idea to turn everything into a game?" Sebastian arched his eyebrow contemptuously. "And that you were the one who said that contract stipulations would not apply?"

"Contract stipulations were related to answers to questions, not to the game itself!"

"Ah. I must have misunderstood, then."

Ciel clenched his fists, glowering. Rage was still washing over him, wave after scalding wave, filling him with the biting urge to do or say something, something hurtful, something that would make the arrogance fade from Sebastian's face, but…

But wouldn't he have done the same? Being humiliated was never easy, but he'd bested Sebastian, hadn't he? He'd managed not to react. Yes, he'd gotten a bruise and wet clothes as a result, but it was a mere inconvenience. The game was still on, and now that he knew how dirty Sebastian was willing to play, he would plan his own moves with more care.

But to have a cup of tea thrown into his face? By his own servant? It was so outrageous that Ciel just couldn't accept it. Even despite understanding everything, he was still vibrating with the childish need to yell and stomp his feet, demanding an apology he would never get.

Taking a deep, slow breath, he closed his eyes.

This was a game. Just a game. He'd pay Sebastian back way before it was over.

And he even knew how to do it. He'd fight insolence with a double dose of humiliation.

"Right," Ciel said, clearing his throat. "Help me to change."

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise. Whatever reply he was expecting, this wasn't it, and Ciel finally grinned, allowing his anger to retreat.

"This might be a game, but you are still my servant," he noted. "You have to obey my orders, and I have a new one for you. Effective as soon as we are done here."

Seeing wariness in Sebastian's gaze was so pleasing that even his bruise started hurting less. If everything went according to the plan that was rapidly unfolding in Ciel's mind, by this evening, he'd forget all about it.

"I forbid you to verbally communicate with our guests today and tomorrow," he said. "Follow their orders but don't speak to them. Not even if they ask you questions."

Sebastian's wide-eyed shock was a soothing balm on his damaged pride. Still grinning, Ciel raised his arms.

"Well?" he asked impatiently. "Are you going to help me to dress or not?"

Slowly, Sebastian stepped towards him and started working on his buttons.

"Surely you wouldn't want to appear too weak-willed to influence a disobedient servant who doesn't deign to speak to the guests?" he asked. Or maybe "implored" would be a better word here, Ciel thought, his smirk widening.

"They already consider me weak-willed," he remarked. "What with blindness and my well-crafted eagerness to please them. Besides, it's not like I care about their opinion. By the end of the week, these people will be too terrified to think about me, never mind besmirch my name."

A small crease formed between Sebastian's eyebrows, betraying how upset he was getting, and Ciel's fingers twitched with a sudden desire to smooth it away. Shaking his head, he tried to look elsewhere. Honestly, sometimes his mind and its weird urges baffled him.

"I still think—" Sebastian attempted again, and Ciel immediately interrupted him.

"Not a word spoken to them. Not a sound that could be taken for a sign of acknowledgement. You will be silent: you'll be serving the table silently, you'll listen to their questions silently, and you'll accept all their remarks just as silently. Is that clear?"

Even without looking, Ciel could hear how Sebastian gritted his teeth, almost grinding them into powder.

"Is that clear?" he repeated, amused.

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian replied after another rebellious pause, and whatever pain was still lingering in Ciel's cheekbone disappeared entirely.

Countermoves were everything.

He really looked forward to the supper tonight.

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"Sebastian, dear, are you feeling all right?" Lady Rosemore asked anxiously. Sebastian ignored her, but his eyebrow was twitching almost non-stop now, and Ciel had to fight hard to stop himself from collapsing in a fit of laughter.

The evening was going even better than he'd expected. He gathered everyone at the table, and the fun started from the moment Miss Taylor asked Sebastian if she could be served fish instead of meat. Her polite confusion at his lack of response deepened when she repeated her question for the second time and he still said nothing. He did bring her fish, but at this point, everyone was watching him with varying degrees of bewilderment.

As far as punishments went, this one was the best. Ciel couldn't remember the last time Sebastian looked this close to having a breakdown.

"Have you gone deaf?" Mrs. Wordson barked. Sebastian didn't turn to acknowledge her, and she slammed her fist into the table. "Look at me, you imbecile!"

Ciel snorted before he could stop himself, and with the corner of his eye, he caught Sebastian's furious glare.

Mrs. Wordson jumped to her feet, her eyes blazing crazily.

"Hey!" she yelled right in Sebastian's ear. "Look at a person talking to you!"

Sebastian didn't move, but to Ciel's absolute delight, a red flush started to creep up his face.

He was blushing. He was so angry that he was actually blushing! Could demons self-combust?

"Oh, leave him be, Mrs. Wordson," Ciel sighed, shaking his head sorrowfully. "When he's in one of these states, he can't hear you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mrs. Wordson threw a disgusted look at him before returning to her seat with a huff.

"One day, he was helping me saddle a horse and he got kicked in the head. He's developed a mental affliction after this. Sometimes he just doesn't talk or react to what others say to him."

If looks could kill, their contract would have come to an end at this very moment. Ciel didn't think he could ever lead Sebastian to this state of violent fury. A little more, and he was going to murder the teachers himself. Then Ciel would be able to win without trying… and then, quite possibly, Sebastian would try tearing his head off his shoulders, too, regardless of the consequences.

"Why do you still keep him?" Mr. Aimens frowned into his plate. "If he can't do his work?"

"I couldn't possibly fire him," Ciel lowered his gaze. "That wouldn't be fair. What would he do without me? No else would employ him."

"You are so kind," Miss Taylor said softly. Her eyes were shining, and Ciel had to quickly move his gaze away to avoid breaking his cover, sending a shy smile somewhere in her direction.

When he risked glancing at Sebastian, he was surprised to see that his look had lost its fever. There was a new kind of intensity in it, darker and more chilling, and Ciel shuddered without knowing why.

He had no idea what caused this new gaze, but it whispered of death. It made him feel small, a speck of dirt in the face of eternity, and Ciel didn't like this feeling.

"Don't bother us today, Sebastian," he said, keeping his eye on his food. "Go to your room and take a break. Let Finnie and Mey-Rin handle everything."

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian replied, and Mrs. Wordson spluttered.

"Why has he just answered to you?" she demanded. Ciel shrugged.

"I believe I'm his exception," he said vaguely. Sebastian paused at the threshold. It lasted for a blink of a second, but Ciel still noticed, and a strange, conflicting mix of mortification and hope whirled in him, making him suddenly impatient to get this supper over with.

He'd give a lot to know why Sebastian had paused. If he laughed at him… or if he found his words true.

Ciel craved the latter, but a part of him knew it was the former — because of course it was. He'd said good-bye to illusions a while ago, and he wasn't going to go back to them.

His mirth evaporated, leaving hollowness in its wake.

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Ciel's mood didn't improve in the morning. Even Sebastian's sulking didn't amuse him as much as it was supposed to, so he headed for his Music lesson with Mrs. Wordson with a grimace on his face.

It all went even further downhill from there. The woman had been getting bolder and more violent by the day, but this time, she'd outdone herself. Fifteen minutes later, Ciel's ears were ringing from her shouts, and if at first, he was hitting the wrong notes because of his cover, now he genuinely couldn't concentrate.

"Wrong!" Mrs. Wordson screamed when he failed again. "Are you deaf in addition to being blind? That's not how it's supposed to sound!"

"Sorry," Ciel muttered. His own temper crackled, wanting to break free, but with an effort, he reined it in, focusing on his task.

He had to finish with Wordson as soon as possible. Her crime couldn't be that difficult, with her aggressiveness and inability to play nice even with her employers. But violence was such a broad concept… she could be anything, from murderer to an abuser and to a simple addict. How could he narrow this circle down?

His violin let out a terrible groan, making him cringe.

"Wrong!" Wordson shrieked. "Wrong, wrong, wrong!" The next second, she slapped him with enough force to make him stumble. Ciel barely managed to hold on to his violin, too shocked to protest or say anything. "You are absolutely abysmal! I have never had such terrible students!"

He stared above her shoulder blankly, unsure how to react. Evidently, this was a wrong decision, because Wordson slapped him again, even harder this time.

All right, so she wanted a reaction. He would give her one.

"I'm sorry!" Ciel sniffed. Crying on demand was a challenge, but he could make his voice tremble, at least. "I d-didn't mean to. I'm so sorry."

Wordson narrowed her eyes, studying him shrewdly, and as a precaution, Ciel whimpered, putting the violin down and covering his face with his hands. His shoulders began to shake, and he hoped it was enough to make Wordson think she was victorious.

"We'll see how sorry you are," she said, much calmer than before. "I'm going downstairs to request a cup of tea. When I come back, I want you to play flawlessly. And I mean flawlessly. If you let me down, you won't like the consequences."

"Okay," Ciel whispered. He kept cowering until she left. When the door closed, he snorted, straightening and carefully pressing his finger to his bruised cheek. First Sebastian with that cup, now this poor excuse of a teacher with her itch to unleash violence on someone. What was it about his face that everyone wanted to hit it?

His internal grumbling was interrupted by a loud crash. Jumping from the unexpectedness of it, Ciel hurried out of the room. What he saw made him freeze, with every thought he'd just had evaporating in an instant.

Wordson was lying at the bottom of the staircase, crumpled and unmoving. Her head was twisted under an unnatural angle, her wide eyes staring somewhere unseeingly. Sebastian was watching her, and considering he was the one standing on the top, there was only one explanation.

"What in the world is this?" Ciel hissed at him. Sebastian glanced at him, his eyes stopping at his cheek.

"I'm afraid your teacher has taken an unfortunate fall," he said, and Ciel scoffed.

"Of course. She fell by accident and somehow managed to land on her neck every time she made contact with the stairs. Do you think I'm an idiot? You killed her!"

Sebastian shrugged, not saying anything, and even though Ciel already knew it, he still gaped.

"You can't just kill people!" he exclaimed, scandalised, and Sebastian raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"Is that a new rule?"

"Well… no. But you can't kill someone without a reason, especially without my explicit permission!"

Sebastian stepped towards him, brushing his fingers against his bruise lightly. He didn't say anything, but his gesture spoke volumes, and for some reason, Ciel flushed.

"It was just a few slaps," he muttered. "You threw a cup at my face, but I don't see you snapping your own neck for it."

Sebastian removed his hand. An arrogant smirk crossed his lips, but his eyes remained dark and unfathomable.

"That was an accident," he said smoothly. "Mrs. Wordson, in turn, has forgotten herself sooner than I expected. She was too dangerous to be allowed to remain your teacher."

"I had it under control!"

"You cried."

Ciel's jaw dropped open.

"It wasn't for real!" he protested vehemently. "What are you… do you honestly think I would cry from that! What's wrong with you!"

Some light entered Sebastian's gaze, and his smirk turned indulgent.

"I didn't think you would," he agreed. "But this particular piece was still getting too unruly. We couldn't let it stay in the game."

"Speak for yourself," Ciel grumbled. He gazed at Wordson again, a strange combination of disappointment and contentment twinging in his chest. "So how do we count her? Who won?"

"No one," Sebastian concluded, also looking at the body downstairs. "The game continues without one piece."

Oh. Maybe that's what it was about?

"You planned it!" Ciel accused him. "You knew I was getting close and you killed her before I could figure her out!"

Sebastian let out a very rude snort.

"Not exactly," he drawled. "If you believe you were close, you can share your verdict with me. This way, you might still win… or not."

Ciel measured him with a suspicious stare. It was tempting to try, but he had one chance and about four options.

No, the risk was too high. It was better to disqualify Wordson than to let Sebastian win.

"That won't be necessary," he said loftily. Sebastian pursed his lips like he was holding back a laugh, and Ciel huffed.

"Clean this mess up since it's yours," he ordered. "I don't want anyone else to see it. And prepare yourself for losing. Today, I will remove one more piece from the board."

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian uttered. He looked pleased with himself, and though Ciel wanted to smack him, he was fighting a stupid grin for a reason he didn't understand.

None of it made sense.

It was better to flee, then.

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During lunch, Ciel informed his remaining teachers that Mrs. Wordson was no longer employed. Lady Rosemore, loud and energetic as always, began to ramble about how it was for the best since no one liked her anyway. Miss Taylor was nodding in agreement, watching Ciel's bruised face with a frown, while Mr. Aimens tilted his head in an obvious interest.

"So she's gone for good now?" he clarified.

"Yes," Ciel sighed heavily. "Sebastian had to escort her immediately."

Mr. Aimens perked up.

"She left everything behind? Or did you return her things to her?"

What kind of question was that?

"The former," Ciel replied carefully. "All her things are still in the room. I'll tell the servants to throw them out tomorrow."

He couldn't afford to stare at Aimens directly, but he could still see how his face lit up with excitement.

"Sebastian thought she didn't deserve anything after what she's done," Ciel added.

"I agree completely," Lady Rosemore interfered. "Hitting a child! A blind child! Her student! It's barbaric."

"Actually, it's a common practice in some places," Aimens turned to face her, and they delved into a heated discussion. Ciel focused on his plate, listening intently.

Aimens' behaviour was always strange, but this question he'd asked was downright damning. If he was interested in knowing whether Wordson's things were still in the house, there could be only one reason for it.

A thief. Could it really be this easy?

If so, he would try to make his move as soon as possible, hoping to steal something before the room was cleaned. If Ciel was right, Aimens was careful in his approach, and he would be trying to take something small at first, something no one would immediately need and notice. Wordson's room was a perfect bait.

If Sebastian were here, Ciel would have sent him a triumphant smirk. As it was, he hunched his shoulders, hoping to look miserable, even as glee ran hot through his blood.

Tonight, the second investigation would come to an end, and a second victory would be in his pocket.

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Aimens left his room at about half past one, holding a suitcase in his hands. He froze in the hall for a moment, listening to the sounds around him, and Ciel held his breath. When Aimens finally began to move, he followed him, keeping as much distance as he could afford without losing him.

He knew Sebastian had to be somewhere nearby. He wouldn't miss it, no matter how much he abhorred the idea of Ciel winning their game. He could also sabotage him, crashing into something and making Aimens flee back to his room, so Ciel glanced around suspiciously, trying to guess in what corner Sebastian was likely to hide.

They made it to Wordson's room in dead silence. Throwing the last careful look around, Aimens disappeared behind the door, and Ciel directed a pleased smile at the darkness.

That's it. As soon as Aimens came out again with stolen things, Ciel would search him, and that would be the end of it.

"Would you like to come inside, Master?" a silky voice breathed out right into his ear, and Ciel jumped, surprised, before scowling.

"I knew you were around," he grumbled. "Must you always creep up like this?"

Sebastian stepped away, studying him with an intent gaze.

"You believe you've solved the case of your Math teacher, then?" he asked instead of replying, and Ciel arched his eyebrow.

"Of course I did," he announced smugly. "He's a thief. He decided to start with the room no one is going to search, and if I gave him time, he'd probably find all expensive and rarely used things before stealing them and escaping."

"What kind of things?" Sebastian pressed. Ciel shrugged.

"Everything he could sell for a high price later. What else?"

Sebastian's smile grew wider.

"Is this your final answer?" he uttered, and unwelcome suspiciousness raised its ugly head.

Was he wrong? Sebastian wouldn't look like this if Ciel was about to win again. He would sulk and grimace like he had at the cemetery.

Unless he was deliberately confusing him? Maybe this time, he decided to change his approach and try to pressure Ciel into making a mistake.

Swallowing down the uncertainty, Ciel stood straighter, staring Sebastian in the eye.

"Yes," he said confidently. "This is my final answer. Aimens is a thief and he's currently looking for whatever jewellery and other expensive things Wordson has left behind."

As soon as Sebastian's eyes flared with triumph, Ciel knew he'd lost. Coldness and mortification began to spill inside his body, making it feel wooden and unmoving, and with an effort, he clenched his fists, trying to shock the numbness out of him.

He'd made a mistake. He didn't know how, since everything fit so perfectly, but he made a mistake and Sebastian was going to tell him all about it in excruciating, supercilious details.

"In this case, let's go inside," Sebastian urged. Not waiting for an answer, he thrust the door open, bowing and letting Ciel walk inside first.

Somehow, Ciel made his legs cooperate. A thousand different ideas flashed in his mind, one crazier than the other, but even they paled in comparison to what he saw next.

Aimens was clearly stealing, there was no question here, so Ciel had gotten this part right. The problem was, the only thing he appeared to be stealing was clothes. Lots and lots of clothes. Wordson's dresses, skirts, jackets, and nightgowns were all piled up next to the wardrobe. Some of them were already hidden in Aimens' suitcase, others were still being tested, considering the way Aimens was holding a green shirt, clearly admiring the view.

"This must be a joke," Ciel said flatly. "Tell me you put him up to it."

"I'm sorry to say this but no, I didn't," Sebastian replied, laughter ringing in every syllable. "Mr. Aimens has very… particular interests."

"It's ridiculous. Why would he take clothes? Who steals clothes when there are so many other valuable things lying around?"

Aimens must have finally recovered from shock because he stumbled back, dropping the shirt.

"I can explain!" he shouted, panicked, and Ciel glared at him.

"You really can't," he snapped. "No one in their right mind would decide to steal clothes, so your words are automatically meaningless!"

Sebastian's shoulders shook as he covered his mouth in obvious laughter, and Ciel's hand itched from the urge to smack him.

"It doesn't mean I lost," he hissed, concentrating his glower on him.

"Doesn't it?" Sebastian sounded so condescending that the urge to hit him turned into a full-blown obsessive need. "You believed him to be a common criminal with a penchant for taking expensive things. You never mentioned clothes."

"How could I ever suggest it?" Ciel exclaimed, frustrated. "I was right about him being a thief, I just didn't guess the specifics! Why should it count as your victory?"

"Because there was plenty of evidence proving Mr. Aimens' sphere of interest," Sebastian shrugged. "There were moments when I believed he was so obvious that you would instantly figure him out. Your ploy with blindness made him more relaxed, and he spent all your interactions studying your clothes."

Ciel opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again as memories flooded him.

Sebastian was right. Aimens had indeed kept staring at his clothes, never bothering to look into his eyes. Hadn't Ciel thought how convenient it was since he didn't have to pretend to be blind all the time? He was so close to solving the case and yet he chose the simplest explanation because he wasn't interested in going further. The way he dealt with Whitmore had given him a boost of unwarranted confidence, and here were the results.

Sebastian did win — for the simple reason of Ciel failing.

Disappointment settled somewhere in his stomach, heavy and bitter. Ciel pressed his lips tightly together, incinerating Aimens with his gaze, before turning and marching towards the door.

"There is another thing I have to tell you, my lord," Sebastian's voice stopped him. "Two remaining pieces have already made their moves, too. Since they still intend to repeat them, I won't count it as your loss yet. Let's say, you have two weeks to determine their specialty — unless the crime is fully committed before you take actions."

He just had to have the last word, didn't he?

Breathing in through his nose carefully, Ciel turned and gave Sebastian a bland smile.

"I won't need two weeks," he said. "I'll be done sooner."

"We'll see," Sebastian stared at him with that same little smirk on his lips, amused and playful. "What should I do with Mr. Aimens?"

"I don't care," Ciel resolutely didn't look at Aimens with his damn clothes. "Just get him out of my house."

He left the room, barely fighting the childish desire to slam the door shut. If what Sebastian had told him about others was true, then he was being generous in his offer to give Ciel two weeks… And a generous Sebastian was an impossibility, so something else was going on here. He must be completely sure that Ciel wouldn't be able to solve the remaining two crimes if he was so willing to be helpful.

The arrogance… the insolence…

Growling, Ciel shut the door to his own room with a bang, hoping it would wake and unnerve every person who was currently sleeping under his roof. How could he be so stupid? Since when did he go for the easiest options? He had to at least consider that Sebastian wouldn't find common criminals. He wanted to shock and surprise, so of course he selected the craziest people he could find. As if the tomb-robber wasn't a sufficient indication of it.

Their score was equal now, and this was completely unacceptable. Ciel couldn't allow making another mistake, so tomorrow morning, he'd have to intensify his efforts.

What kind of question would Sebastian want to ask him?

Ciel shook his head abruptly, banishing this thought.

He would worry about it later. Now, he had to focus on his investigation because Sebastian couldn't get a second victory.

He just couldn't.

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Breakfast was a tense affair. Sebastian was the only one glowing with satisfaction — Ciel's smiles were sour, no matter how much he tried to breathe cheerfulness into them, Miss Taylor was very quiet, and Lady Rosemore looked pale and scared.

"Mr. Aimens just left?" she asked incredulously, clutching the fork as if it was her weapon. "Without warning?"

"He stole things from Mrs. Wordson's room," Ciel explained. "He was a thief who only pretended to be a teacher. It seems like you are the only people I can trust."

Miss Taylor smiled gently at him while Lady Rosemore frowned silently. There was nothing from the active woman bursting from energy in her now, but Ciel couldn't determine if it was suspicious or if she was just worried about people disappearing one by one. It could be both.

Then again, it didn't matter. Lady Rosemore was panicking, and a panicked creature always bolted. Chances were, she would try to run today, and Ciel had to be there when it happened. He'd trigger her anxiety even more during the supper, leaving her with no option but to accelerate her plans and flee.

This night was Rosemore's night. It meant that he'd have to focus on Taylor in the afternoon, and if everything went well — really, really well — he'd snare them both within the next 12 hours.

He would be ready.

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Miss Taylor reacted enthusiastically to his offer to spend lunch together.

"It's just the house has gotten so lonely," Ciel murmured, wringing his hands miserably. "I hoped I'd be able to make friends with all my teachers, but some of them were so rude, and now they are gone. And Mrs. Wordson hit me! I must be doing something wrong."

"Not at all," Miss Taylor touched his shoulder in sympathy, soft-spoken as always. "I'm afraid your butler hasn't been diligent in finding proper professors for you. But we are going to correct it, yes? Let's start with tea. Would you like me to make a cup for you?"

It was a strange request for someone who wasn't a servant, but Ciel didn't let it take him aback. He looked up, taking on a hopeful expression.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Please. If it's not too much trouble. Sebastian's tea always makes me nauseous, but I don't tell him that because I don't want to hurt his feelings. Last time I criticised him, he cried… I felt so badly afterwards."

"He did?" Miss Taylor paused slightly, and Ciel could see how her lips curled in a quick, startled smile. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. From what I've witnessed, he's a very sensitive man."

"That he is," Ciel nodded, hoping he looked serious. He'd give a lot to know if Sebastian could hear them and to see the expression on his face. "It's one of the reasons why I still haven't fired him."

"I think you'll like my tea better," Miss Taylor uttered with a conspiratorial wink — not that Ciel could react to it since he wasn't supposed to see it. "I know a perfect recipe."

"Sounds great!" Ciel gushed, waving his cane around. "I'll wait in the dining room."

"All right," Miss Taylor agreed easily.

She returned some minutes later, chatting and putting a cup in front of him… and that's when something changed. Ciel couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the air shifted and Sebastian's presence filled it, spilling in a cloud of familiar darkness. It wasn't anything specific — maybe the shadows grew longer, or the lights dimmed, but Ciel's senses prickled and his skin felt hot, like it did every time Sebastian stared at him with frightening intensity.

Carefully, he looked around but saw nothing. Miss Taylor returned to her seat, and when nothing happened, Ciel shook the strange feeling off.

He must be mistaken. Or maybe Sebastian was really here, interested in listening to what they would be talking about. It wouldn't be the first time, so there was no reason to think about it too deeply.

On the other hand, last time Ciel followed a simple route, he lost spectacularly.

Annoyed with himself, he reached for his cup, but before he could touch it, something dark flashed right before his eyes. When Ciel blinked, it was gone. Nothing changed — the cup was still there, Miss Taylor was still saying something, and most importantly, the strange feeling of being watched was gone. Everything was perfect, yet a part of his mind refused to accept it.

He'd seen something. Something very quick, barely visible, but it wasn't a hallucination.

Bewildered, Ciel took a sip. Miss Taylor smiled at him.

"So what do you think?" she asked.

"It's delicious!" he began to nod vigorously, but the truth was, he didn't sense any difference. This tea tasted exactly like the one Sebastian made for him daily.

Something stirred in his mind, but before Ciel could follow this train of thought, Miss Taylor asked him a question.

All in all, it was a very strange meeting.

When Ciel returned to his office, he wasn't any closer to the answer. Miss Taylor told him about her home and about how she learned French, and she remained nice and attentive. But the feeling of wrongness didn't subside — he just didn't know what to attribute it to. The almost-certainty that Sebastian had been present during a part of their conversation? That unexplainable flash of something?

Maybe he should search Taylor's room. There could be answers there. Also, what kind of name "Taylor" even was? Whomever this woman was, she was lying about something. She could have picked the most common surname to escape notice, and if so, her secret had to be big. But how to check it?

An agitated voice called out from somewhere behind the door. Ciel stood up, wary, but before he could react, the door opened. Sebastian pushed Lady Rosemore inside. He looked polite as a perfect butler should be, but there was a devilish smile on his lips, and whether he did it deliberately or not, he practically emanated superiority.

"I'm sorry to bring bad news to you, Young Master, but Lady Rosemore has just attempted to escape," Sebastian announced, his voice so tragic and so fake that Ciel would have immediately yelled at him to shut up if the situation was any different.

"Indeed?" he asked coldly. His heart was in his throat, but he still managed to keep his voice even. "Why would she run?"

He couldn't be wrong again, he couldn't miscalculate so profoundly for the second time in less than a day! He was sure Rosemore would run, but at night, not during the day, when everyone could see her!

"I can explain!" Rosemore wailed — and why did they all always say the same thing? Ciel was sick of these so-called attempts at explanations that never went anywhere. "I only took several books to read, I'd return them to you, I swear—"

"Books?!" Ciel yelped. "This one is a stealer of books?"

Sebastian's lips trembled from laughter, and Ciel growled, unable to stop himself.

Bastard. What an utter bastard.

"Where could you possibly find all these thieves?" he hissed through clenched teeth. Rage enveloped him in a dark and bitter cloud, and at this moment, Ciel felt like he was able to kill Rosemore himself, with his bare hands, for being the reason for his second defeat. "A thief who steals from the cemeteries, a thief who steals clothes, and a thief who steals books! I don't even want to know who Wordson was — did she steal musical instruments? And what about Taylor, is she a thief of the tea?"

A short bark of genuine laughter left Sebastian's throat before he schooled his expression again.

"Wait!" Rosemore suddenly sounded even more alarmed than before. "You can see? What is this?!"

Ciel ignored her. He didn't need a repeat of Whitmore's performance.

"She never even talked about books or libraries!" he complained. "She kept rambling about everything but never about that!"

"She was trying to be liked by everyone and to pretend to be vain so no one would suspect her of having an unhealthy attachment to rare books," Sebastian said lazily, pushing increasingly panicked Rosemore away from the door with the tip of his finger. He looked like an overgrown cat playing with a mouse, and Ciel was startled by a twitch of fondness that pierced layers of anger and disappointment. "This way, she hoped to escape suspicions if she were to be caught. She deliberately avoided mentioning the library, and with her chatter, creating an alibi was supposed to be easy. She's done it several times in the past."

"I'm a scholar!" Rosemore stared at Ciel imploringly. "Please, you have to understand. It's not about the money, it's about knowledge!"

"Of course it's about the money," Ciel interrupted her icily. "If you were a scholar, there would be no need for you to resort to stealing the books. You could read them right here. Or are you that fond of re-reading?"

"I—" Rosemore bit her lip, her eyes flashing wildly. Then they lit up with hope. "We can make a deal!" she blurted out. "If you let me go, I will tell you about Clea! "Taylor" is not her name, she is—"

There was a snap, and Rosemore hit the ground, her lips still parted, her gaze dimmed, as if the life was abruptly thrust out of her.

Gaping, Ciel stared at her body before moving his stare to Sebastian.

"I told you that you can't just kill people like this," he snarled. A small kernel of regret pinched him from inside, and it blossomed into something more solid when he looked at Rosemore again, remembering her exaggerated attempts to take care of him.

Seeing her dead made him feel uncomfortable, although he couldn't pinpoint the reason for it.

"Do you feel sorry for her?" Sebastian's face twisted in a contemptuous scowl, and Ciel huffed in disbelief, even as his heart sank a little.

"Just because I don't want you to kill every person we see doesn't mean I feel sorry for them. I have standards, that's all."

"You do?" Sebastian sounded so dubious that Ciel spluttered, unsure if it was an insult.

"Of course I do! And I happen to think that thieves don't necessarily deserve to die for their crimes."

"You didn't care what I'd do to Aimens," Sebastian pointed out, and Ciel grimaced.

"Don't mention him again. I understand stealing books or family jewellery, but clothes?"

"Ah. So you are fine with killing people whose motivation you don't understand only?"

"I didn't say it."

"You didn't seem to vehemently object to Wordson's death either."

"What, are you saying she was a thief, after all? But regardless, she hit me. It changes things."

Sebastian grinned, and Ciel almost grinned back until he remembered that he was supposed to be angry, both for his and Rosemore's sakes.

"I'm sorry to say it, Young Master, but your standards aren't exactly… standardised."

"Oh, shut up," Ciel rolled his eyes before stealing another glance at Rosemore's body.

No, what he felt wasn't pity. But maybe… regret? Thief or not, this woman didn't strike him as someone particularly dangerous. She pretended to be loud and vain to hide her intelligence, and she…

She reminded him of Madam Red.

The realisation rocked him back a step. Something bitter and fragile burned under his skin, weakening his knees, and Ciel dug his nails into the scar Madam Red's dagger had left on his arm, letting the sharp pain sober him up.

It didn't matter. It didn't. Madam Red, Lady Rosemore — they both wanted to attack him, in one way or another. Their deaths meant that the world would be a safer place, and that's exactly what Ciel was after.

"Not to mention that what you did is cheating," he added belatedly. Sebastian, who had been studying him with a strange greedy gaze Ciel didn't even hope to understand, blinked.

"Cheating?"

"She was about to give me a hint about Miss Taylor. You killed her to prevent it, and you had no right to do that."

"I apologise," Sebastian said, and he couldn't sound more insincere if he tried. "But the victory is still mine, isn't it? The crime was committed before you understood what it entails."

Now that Ciel figured out the reasons for his reaction to Rosemore's death, ignoring her and focusing on his and Sebastian's banter was much easier.

"I accept the defeat with Aimens," he uttered, even though his pride wailed against every spoken word. "I should have noticed his… unnatural interests. I should have also made my conclusion about his being a thief final instead of falling for your provocation and trying to guess what exactly he was stealing. But you're going too far now — you had no right to kill Rosemore without my order, whatever she was about to say to me. And besides…" Ciel narrowed his eyes, a sudden thought occurring to him. "You were the one who provoked her."

A flash of pleased surprise in Sebastian's stare was quickly distinguished, but not before Ciel caught it. His realisation turned into annoyance before filling him with exasperated amusement.

He was right. Sebastian was playing even dirtier than he'd imagined.

"You listened to our morning conversation," he said slowly. "You reached the same conclusion I did — that Rosemore was too unnerved by the constant disappearances of teachers and was about to bolt. So you triggered her into doing that. You heard how I invited Miss Taylor to have tea, and that's when you said or did something that scared her enough to make her run. Doing it in the middle of the day, in such a rush, with only a few books, is senseless — you must have set everything in motion. And you killed her just so that she wouldn't tell me whatever she knew about Taylor. That's cheating."

Sebastian chuckled, leaning against the door, looking nothing like a subservient butler. He appeared to be as amused and playful as Ciel felt, and though Ciel would deny it if asked, the glow of enjoyment from seeing Sebastian like this, knowing he was so immersed into a game Ciel had made up for them, warmed his chest, chasing the remaining traces of gloominess away.

"What isn't specified in the rules is allowed," Sebastian reminded him.

"Really?" Ciel arched his eyebrows. "Then how about I tell Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin to torture information out of Miss Taylor? They work for me, so technically, I would win."

That wiped the smirk from Sebastian's lips, but not for long.

"Even then," he drawled haughtily, "you won't win. The best you can count on is a draw, Young Master."

This time, it was Ciel who ceased smiling.

Sebastian was a bastard, but he was right. He might win the battle but the war was lost... Unless he made his victory into something truly spectacular. Unless he came up with something that would shake Sebastian's composure and earn him a few extra points.

A slow, brazen smile emerged on Ciel's lips, and he could sense how Sebastian's attention immediately snapped to him, how wariness crept into his assessing gaze.

"We will see," was all Ciel said. And sure, his chances of success were slim, and if he lost, he'd never be able to look at Sebastian again… but he would apply every effort. He would tear this victory out of Sebastian's grasp even if it killed him.

And kill him it might.

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The theory he built entailed many stages but in essence, it was simple.

Sebastian had dragged three different kinds of thieves into his house, which put them on the lowest tier. Wordson was an unknown entity, but with how crassly she'd acted, she couldn't be the hidden ace. It meant that whatever her crime was, it wasn't all that important.

This left Miss Taylor, and if Ciel's initial list was at least partly correct, the top tier had to include a murderer. Miss Taylor fit the role well. With how soft-spoken and gentle she was, it was nearly impossible to think badly of her, and consequently, it made her the likeliest candidature.

She wasn't in a hurry, meaning that she was either assessing the situation or already doing something to fulfil her plan. Considering Sebastian's words about each criminal having made their moves, it was clearly the latter. It made even more sense when put together with that strange instance with a cup of tea she'd brought.

Ciel had an idea of what it could mean, but this time, he needed to be absolutely sure before drawing any conclusions. The solution was obvious — he had to orchestrate the same situation, only put it in a more convenient context, and then watch what happened. And if he was right, he would rattle Sebastian's cool superiority so profoundly that the final victory would be his regardless of the score.

The sooner he started, the better.

So, he would start right away.

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Miss Taylor was diligently teaching him French, and Ciel was diligently making mistakes, watching for any breaks in her flawless tranquillity. So far, there were none — not that he expected any. If she was a murderer, he had no idea what her motivation was, but she was determined to keep up the perfect façade till the end, that much was clear.

"My throat is parched," he muttered after stumbling through another set of words. "May I have a glass of water, please?"

"Of course," Miss Taylor smiled, and since Ciel was looking in her direction, he caught the excited flush that travelled up her face. Curious.

She poured a glass of water unhurriedly, and suddenly, strange tension filled the room. Ciel's hair stood on end as if electrified. Something hot slid up his skin, instantly reminding him of Sebastian, and his eyes darted around in fruitless search.

No, Sebastian wasn't nearby. But the feeling was there, just like it had been that time in the dining room, and it had to mean something.

Ciel focused on Miss Taylor again, and his heart jumped in anticipation.

She was putting something into his drink. Her movements were lazy and confident, and her lips were twisted in a satisfied smirk, betraying her enjoyment. She revelled in her power and knowledge that he couldn't see her even as she was poisoning him right before his eyes.

Ciel kept his face cheerful and stupid, noting down everything he could about the vial she was holding. It was wrapped in nondescript brown paper, and the substance itself was of light grey colour. He didn't know enough about poisons to determine its kind, but in this case, it wasn't necessary.

His hypothesis was proven right. Miss Taylor was a murderer. Why she wanted to poison him remained a mystery, but it wasn't something Ciel was particularly interested in.

A rush of fierce excitement flooded him, sending his heart rate skittering. Ciel lowered his head, hiding a grin that threatened to spill onto his lips.

He won this round, no questions asked. He could call Sebastian right now and the game would end. But two versus two didn't satisfy him — no, he still needed to make his point. And now that he knew about poison, he knew exactly what to do.

Miss Taylor put the glass on a tray, still smiling her strange smile, and placed it near him.

"Thank you," Ciel uttered, reaching in the direction of the glass slowly. Technically, one small dose of poison was unlikely to kill him. And if his second theory was right, he had nothing to worry about anyway because Sebastian would…

There was a brief flash and a barely audible clatter.

At the first glance, nothing changed — the glass was still there, same as before, but the content… there was more water in this one. Ciel could bet his life on it.

Elation that flared in his chest was bright and warm, lighting every gloomy corner of his mind. Demurely, Ciel drank the water, feeling two sets of eyes on him, hoping his delight wasn't palpable, although it felt like he could burst with it.

Sebastian was substituting his poisoned drinks. He must be monitoring his and Taylor's interactions closely, prepared to intervene at any time. He might have brought a murderer into their house, but he made sure to neutralise her to protect Ciel.

Well, to fulfil the contract, but it was the same thing.

It would make toying with him so much more amusing.

Ciel took another sip, and thought of his victory.

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His plan consisted of five specific stages. The first one involved making Sebastian believe that he still had no idea what Taylor's crime was. If Sebastian was switching the cups, he was listening to their conversations, so he knew Ciel had witnessed Taylor putting something into his drink. Ciel's silence must have confused him, so the current primary goal was to make it look like he was pursuing another theory, something not related to poison.

It was highly unlikely and an insult to his intelligence, but Sebastian would underestimate him, and in the end, he would pay for it.

Probably.

Ciel started with the fake search of their kitchen. Sending Bard away, he began looking through the shelves, pretending to examine every vial that resembled the one Taylor had used, sniffing their contents and doing his best to look alarmed.

"My lord? What are you doing?"

Sebastian had arrived even sooner than he expected. Turning to face him, Ciel widened his eyes, clutching one of the vials close to his chest.

"Nothing!" he blurted out. "Why are you here?"

"I came to inspect Bard's progress," Sebastian gazed at the vial. "Are you looking for something specific? Perhaps I could offer my assistance."

"As if I'd trust you with something this important!" Ciel raised his chin challengingly. "Go away."

Sebastian bowed, but smugness was hiding in his every movement, and Ciel's resolve was tested severely by the sudden urge to giggle.

One day, Sebastian's sense of superiority would be his downfall. Pity that Ciel wouldn't be there to witness it.

After the kitchen encounter, he launched a lengthy and loud discussion with Bard about the possible spices. Then he asked Mey-Rin what kind of drugs she heard of, and while he couldn't know for certain, he was sure Sebastian was watching him.

Good.

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The second stage entailed getting rid of Sebastian for a specific period of time.

"Go visit Lau," Ciel said, looking grim and agitated. "Give him this letter and wait until he sends one back."

Sebastian hesitated. It was brief, but the reasons for it were so obvious that they were practically written all over his face.

He didn't want to leave Ciel and Taylor alone for long. But he wouldn't want to give up on the game even more, so he'd follow the order, choosing his vanity over Ciel's safety.

"It will be done," Sebastian said after another pause, and Ciel jerked his head in a nod. Satisfaction and resentment welled up inside, battling for victory, but he wasn't interested in knowing which of them would get it.

Sebastian was loyal to the contract, not him, Ciel wasn't going to forget it. He'd been switching the cups until now, but he wouldn't bat an eyelid if Ciel were to consume a portion of poison once or twice. And he had poisoned him himself once, hadn't he?

Hopefully, after today, he would start treating his job in a more responsible way.

When Sebastian left, Ciel checked the clock. Midday.

One hour until the show.

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The third stage required getting Finnie's assistance.

"Show Miss Taylor everything our garden and greenhouse have to offer," Ciel said. "Distract her in any way you want, say anything, but she must return to her room at one o'clock sharp. Neither sooner nor later than that. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" Finnie nodded eagerly, beaming at him. "I won't let you down, Young Master."

Ciel's heart wasn't in it, but he still forced himself to smile gratefully.

Considering how Finnie's face brightened and how his eyes filled with renewed determination, it would have the desired outcome.

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The fourth stage took place in Taylor's room. Ciel found the poison within the first five minutes — it was standing among other similar vials with medical names written on them. He emptied the content into his pocket before checking the clock again.

Twenty minutes to one. Time to finalise the fourth stage and move on to the fifth one.

Ciel broke the vial, took one of the shards and thrust it into his hand, carefully re-opening the wound left by Madam Red.

The pain was sharp and visceral, sending his body into a mild shock. His lungs contracted, his heart began to pound, and for a while, his brain concentrated on this small bit of physical agony, shooting occasional burning jolts through him.

Ciel didn't know the specifics of how the connection between him and Sebastian worked, but he could make several good guesses. Clearly, Sebastian was attuned to his body reactions, so when Ciel was in danger — or when his body believed it's in danger, as it was in this case, — he sensed it. He couldn't know what was happening, but he understood he was needed.

That's exactly what Ciel was counting on. Now he just had to get his mind to cooperate in case Sebastian could sense his emotions, too. This was the most complex part, but Ciel was certain he could do it. His mind had so many holes that falling into one wouldn't be a hardship.

He closed his mouth and his nose with his hand, pressing hard. Then he shut his eyes, conjuring the ugliest nightmares he could recall.

He thought of being plunged into darkness, tied and caged there, with no hope of seeing his attackers. He imagined the screams of others, the sounds he couldn't understand yet. He recalled being held down and branded, something unbearably hot being pressed to his back, burning his skin and his flesh. Hands of strangers closing over his face, not letting him breathe — this one hadn't happened in reality, but it followed him from nightmare to nightmare, and it worked now, too. The more he refused to allow himself to breathe, the more frantic his heart pounded; the toxic fear began to slip through at a faster rate, unfurling and setting his chest on fire.

The panic that flared was bright and vivid, shadowing his every other thought for a moment. It kicked into his stomach, his heart, his brain, and Ciel finally jerked his hand away, drawing in some air greedily, shaking and trying convulsively to swallow down the nausea that crawled up his throat. Through the shudders, he managed to raise his head and check the clock.

Almost one. No time for prolonging this panic — he had to think now, he had to collect himself.

"Sebastian," Ciel forced out. He wasn't sure if Sebastian could actually hear him, but doing this would be an additional bonus. "Sebastian, come here, it's an order. Help me. Help!"

And with this, stage four was complete.

Stage five comprised waiting for Sebastian and Miss Taylor to meet over his allegedly unconscious body.

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This idea had its drawbacks, Ciel mused, as he made himself lie still on the floor, not daring to open his eyes. For one thing, Sebastian could likely tell whether he was in mortal danger. But knowing didn't always mean understanding it, did it? Ciel had his own example to prove it. He had still screamed when he saw Vanel's men shoot Sebastian, even though he knew demons were immune to human weapons. Maybe Sebastian would fall for it, too. He was always complaining about humans being too fragile, so he might believe that his seal was malfunctioning, especially if Ciel refused to give his game up for some time.

On the other hand, if Sebastian relied on the seal entirely, he would be able to call Ciel's bluff, and this humiliation would be worse than anything else he'd experienced.

Ciel winced at the very idea of it, but the next second, the door opened, and he stilled. Based on the gasp, it was Taylor — Finnie had done his job well.

"My lord?" she called out nervously. Ciel didn't move. Muttering something, Taylor approached and bent over him, checking his forehead with her hand.

And that's when darkness began to fill the room. Ciel kept his eyes closed, but he sensed it with every part of his mind and body. Very soon, the lights dimmed enough for him to notice it even under his eyelashes, and Taylor's second gasp sounded much more frightened.

One moment, she was still crouching next to him, but the next, she disappeared as if pushed by invisible force. There was a crash and a startled, pained moan, but Ciel didn't let it cajole a smile out of his lips. He'd planned everything so thoroughly, he wasn't about to give it up just because he wanted to cackle.

Familiar gloved fingers brushed a strand of hair off his forehead, and Ciel shivered before he could stop himself. Cursing internally, he forced himself to shiver again, and again, hoping to pass it for a symptom of whatever it was Sebastian thought happened to him.

"What have you done?" Sebastian asked. His voice sounded very soft, but the threat in it was deadly. Ciel wondered if Taylor understood it.

"I've done nothing," she stammered from somewhere in the opposite corner of the room. "I found him like this. Maybe he got sick? Maybe—"

"Would you like me to repeat myself?" The fingers disappeared, and the air around them got bitterly cold. "I can. But if I do, you won't like the consequences."

'Show-off,' Ciel mouthed, confident that no one was looking at him at this moment. Sebastian really had to come up with more creative threats.

"I've done nothing!" Taylor repeated hysterically. "What are you— what is this?"

Something soft fell on his face and Ciel risked squinting.

A dark feather. Sebastian was like a hen, always dropping these things around when he got angry enough. Not that he could complain, especially considering how he kept one of the feathers in his bedroom… maybe he could sneak in a second one, too?

There was a quiet crunch, and Taylor screamed so loudly that Ciel almost flinched.

"Tell me what you've done," Sebastian whispered. Another ambiguous sound, another scream. "What's wrong with him? Why is he on the floor?"

"I don't know, I swear I don't know! I've just come to my room, I didn't even see him today!"

Sebastian laughed, but this laughter was so far from being pleasant or normal that Ciel felt a sting of unease. There was a crash again, and Taylor groaned from another corner, probably the one she'd just been thrown into.

"You are very brave for a human," Sebastian noted. "But very foolish. Do you wish to prolong your death? Because I will get the answer out of you even if I have to tear it from your throat."

"I've done nothing!" Taylor wailed. Her words were distorted by sobs, and Ciel experienced a strong urge to see her, or to see with her eyes, to understand what had her so terrified. Physical pain from whatever Sebastian had done to her? Or his demonic form?

"Please! Please, you have to believe me, I like this boy. I'd never—"

The following scream was so piercing that Ciel did wince, fighting the impulse to cover his ears.

Since he couldn't even see what was happening, it wasn't as amusing as he thought it would be, so maybe he had to take on a more active role.

"Sebastian," he muttered. In a blink, Sebastian was near him, emanating such thick darkness that its curls quickly reached Ciel, wrapping themselves around his body. For a moment, Ciel allowed himself to be distracted by it, surprised and pleased at new strange sensations, but Sebastian's pale, tense face inevitably drew his attention to it.

"Young Master, what happened? How do you feel?" Sebastian's hands went to check his forehead again, as if he expected to find a fever, then moved towards his neck and chest.

Right. He still had a role to play.

"She had a vial," Ciel gasped, trying to get up. "She forced me to swallow everything inside it, I don't know what it was. She said… she said… there is a cure, but then… Oh," Ciel grimaced as if he was in pain, throwing his head back.

"Young Master!" Sebastian grabbed him by his shoulders, not letting him fall, and Ciel's heart skipped a beat when he saw the expression of sheer unadulterated panic on his face. Red eyes were wide and lost, and Ciel relished the fear reflected there. He couldn't recall ever seeing Sebastian with this particular expression before.

He was scared. Genuinely scared. Scared and having no idea what to do because even demons were useless when it came to poisons.

His seal had to be telling him that everything was fine — it had to be, but Sebastian had fallen into the same trap Ciel had, letting his eyes prevail over his mind, succumbing to emotions rather than rationality.

It was gratifying to know Sebastian felt something, even if these feelings were evoked by the possibility of failing the contract.

"He's lying!" Taylor's shocked voice broke the silence. "I did nothing to him!"

Sebastian growled. Since Ciel closed his eyes at this point, he couldn't see him again, but his cold rage was palpable, its waves freezing the air, covering the room with a thin thread of ice.

"What cure?" Sebastian's snarl was so violent that it felt like the walls themselves shook under its influence. "What did he mean?"

"I swear to you, I don't know anything! I wasn't even in the room, I just— No! No, please!"

Sebastian was gone again. There were no distinguishable sounds, but Taylor suddenly let out a gurgle, then a strangled combination of a scream and a sob.

"If you don't tell me, what I've done so far will feel like a caress," Sebastian breathed out. "I will not stop at your body. If he dies, I will drag your soul straight to hell. The Rippers will never be able to find it, and I will personally introduce you to every delight my home has to offer. Would you truly like to spend an eternity with me? I assure you, you won't enjoy the experience."

A sudden burn of envy took Ciel by surprise, dimming the enjoyment he was getting.

Not that he wanted to spend an eternity with Sebastian, tortured or not. But to be able to leave the human world, to shake off all obligations, to discover something new, something where no people were present… And maybe having Sebastian by his side wouldn't be that bad, too. At least not all the time.

"I was poisoning him!" Taylor blurted out weakly. Every word was so shaky that understanding them was a chore. "I was, I… I admit it. But it wasn't malicious, I just wanted to help him! And I didn't do anything to him today, you have to believe me! I'm telling… it's..."

There was a loud smash. Taylor cried, but the sound quickly turned into shrieking.

"What cure?" Sebastian roared. His voice didn't sound human any longer, and Ciel marvelled at the fact that he could still decipher anything from it. "Speak! Now!"

A warm glow of triumph melted even the dull pain in his slashed arm. Ciel took a deep breath. The air felt heavy and cold, and he wondered if it was Sebastian's emotions he was tasting. His anger. His fear. His protectiveness.

It might not be worth much, but it was worth something.

And of course, there was also the fact that Sebastian was an idiot for still not figuring out what was happening and for thinking Taylor actually knew something. What human in their right mind would lie in these circumstances? At least with Vanel, Ciel realised that Sebastian couldn't die within a few seconds. Sebastian was being much slower.

Taylor let out an inhuman scream again, but at this point, it was getting tedious. She might be a murderer, but Ciel wasn't annoyed with her enough to let her suffer from Sebastian's stupidity.

"How much longer am I supposed to listen to this?" he drawled, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Honestly, even a fool would have realised she knows nothing at this point. Or are you that insecure about your torture abilities?"

Sebastian whipped his head in Ciel's direction so fast that Ciel barely had time to notice it. Smirking, he watched how shock and incomprehension on Sebastian's face changed into relief before it sharpened, transforming into utter incredulity.

Sebastian got up. Ciel managed to catch a glimpse of Taylor, who looked very little like herself, but then she was thrown aside like a ragdoll and Sebastian strode towards him, still shrouded in darkness. Ciel's heart slammed against his ribcage with increased force, and he didn't know if it was because of anxiety or excitement.

As soon as Sebastian stepped close enough, his hands moved to frame Ciel's head, turning it from side to side slightly, as if he was making sure everything was intact. There were traces of blood on some of his abnormally long nails, and Ciel jerked a little when a few drops got onto his cheekbone.

Carefully but thoroughly, Sebastian's hands moved lower and stopped at his arm. Without a word and ignoring Ciel's protesting hiss, he tore through his jacket and stared at the re-opened wound there. Slowly, he moved his gaze towards the shards of glass that were glistening nearby, and then fixated on Ciel's face. There was no chance of deciphering his look, so Ciel licked his lips before twisting them in a smug smile.

"We have a draw," he whispered. "But tell me, Sebastian. Do you feel like it's a draw? Do you feel like you've won something from me?"

Sebastian recoiled from him like he found him frightening, and Ciel grabbed him by his coat, stilling his movements.

"So blinded by your primitive emotions," he mocked breathlessly. "So weak and gullible. Did you think your seal was lying to you? That Taylor's poison made it malfunction? Or did you let the chance of our contract ending before you fulfilled your part scare you so much that you forgot about the seal altogether?"

Sebastian tore himself out of his grasp and backed away, still staring at him. Ciel chuckled.

"I think you were confused about what dramatic means?" he asked. "Here's your answer. What happened now was dramatic… for you, at least. I had great fun. We should do it again sometime."

Sebastian's chest rose as he inhaled deeply. It could be a coincidence, but he looked suspiciously like he was mirroring Ciel's technique of trying to calm himself down. Even the pause between the breaths lasted for the exact same time. Ciel's eyes widened at the realisation, and then he laughed, covering his mouth to subdue the sound but knowing it would still break through.

He didn't stop laughing even as Sebastian's burning stare gained an even fiercer intensity. The energy he was emanating was wild and chaotic, and Ciel felt drunk on it.

He opened his mouth to say something else, something downright suicidal, but at this moment, Sebastian finally broke the eye contact and turned away. There was a blur, and when Ciel looked around the room again, it was empty. No Sebastian, no Taylor — just several small pools of blood and broken things lying in different corners.

"You are the worst servant ever," Ciel called out, rolling his eyes. "Who do you think is going to clean this room and bandage my wound?"

Sebastian didn't re-appear, but Ciel didn't really expect him to. With a quiet snort, he walked out of the room, lightheaded and almost blindingly happy.

He won. Maybe not the game itself, but he still won, and Sebastian's escape proved it more vividly than anything else could. Taylor was collateral damage, but considering she'd been trying to poison him, Ciel didn't feel particularly sorry for her. She had it coming, so he wasn't going to think about her or about where Sebastian had dragged her.

He was going to bask in the afterglow of his triumph.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSSCSC

Sebastian returned in the evening. He looked perfectly calm and collected, so Ciel assumed that he got whatever it was out of his system.

"It appears that you don't have teachers again, my lord," he noted politely. "Would you like me to find you new ones?"

"Yes, I would," Ciel replied, just as politely, even though a small smile was persistently tugging at his lips. "Only this time, make sure they are actual teachers. The game was fun, but I'd rather move on to a new one."

"I agree," Sebastian held his gaze, communicating something silently. It could mean a variety of things, so Ciel decided to go with the interpretation he liked most — a peace offering.

"I made two correct guesses," he said. "One piece remained a mystery because you got rid of it before I could determine anything. That leaves you with two wins as well. Shall we proceed to our questions?"

A flash of interest brightened Sebastian's eyes.

"Now?" he clarified.

"Why wait? Or you don't know what you're going to ask yet?"

"I do," Sebastian continued to stare at him with crackling attentiveness, and Ciel quirked his eyebrows in mild surprise.

He had thought that Sebastian wasn't all that interested in the prize, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe he actually wanted to ask something substantial, not just something aimed to mortify and embarrass.

But what questions could Sebastian possibly have? It's not like Ciel interested him as an individual. Something about the contract, perhaps?

A gentle breeze of curiosity brushed against him, and Ciel nodded in the direction of his office.

There, he took a seat at his table, waiting for Sebastian to occupy the additional chair. It all looked ridiculously official, a mockery of a business deal he was forced to arrange at times, but Sebastian seemed so sombre that the joke was clearly lost on him.

Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time, and it definitely wouldn't be the last. Sebastian loved everything pretentious, so he likely thought that finalising their game in such setting was a natural thing to do. Never mind that it was just a few questions.

On the other hand, now that the moment to ask them arrived, Ciel suddenly felt nervous. His stomach seized in anxious preparation, with a tight knot clogging his throat, refusing to let the words be spoken.

The questions he'd chosen weren't personal enough for him to worry. It's not like he was going to ask something embarrassing, like what Sebastian genuinely thought of him or how often he wanted to kill him… but still, his heartbeat kept accelerating, so Ciel cleared his throat and met Sebastian's gaze.

"The first victory was mine, so I'm going to start," he announced. Sebastian bowed his head in acquiescence, and Ciel leaned against the back of his chair, interlocking his fingers and putting his chin on them.

"No lies," he reminded. "No omissions. Only true and detailed answers."

"Of course," Sebastian confirmed smoothly. "But I do hope you remember that it goes both ways."

Ciel was about to ask if Sebastian thought him a forgetful liar, but at the last moment, he stopped himself. No point in filling the pause with meaningless chatter.

"What contract do you consider the most memorable?" he asked. It was a perfectly mild question, each word carefully thought out, but his treacherous tongue continued before he could stop himself, "What distinguishes that master from others in your mind and makes them worth remembering?"

Ciel immediately snapped his mouth shut, horrified at the pathetic neediness of his last words. But Sebastian didn't seem to pay it any heed. He also entwined his fingers, pushing himself against the chair and contemplating him with an unusually serious expression.

"Over the centuries, the details of my service blur," he uttered. "The faces turn into shadows. Even the memory of how the souls tasted becomes dull and distant. The only thing that helps to pull a specific contract to the surface and flesh out every single thing connected to it is the wish."

"The wish?" Ciel repeated quietly. "The one that helps form a contract?"

"Yes," Sebastian's eyes shifted somewhere above him, staring into eternity that Ciel could never hope to comprehend. "Humans tend to meld into one grey mass of identical wishes. They want wealth, revenge, or power. The ones that desire something else usually stand out from the rest."

Ciel's heart sank and he dropped his stare, trying to ignore the acidic disappointment swelling inside.

Considering his wish was revenge, he fell into the category of the grey mass. He was destined to be forgotten, then. Becoming one of the blurred faces. A hundred years from now, Sebastian wouldn't remember his name.

The ache from the realisation came in waves, burying its way into his chest and lodging there, and when Sebastian resumed talking, it took an effort to raise his head and look normal.

"In recent centuries, I started to appreciate a challenge. I do not enter contracts unless there is something unique enough to draw my attention. There are times when I make deals with humans that no other demon would deign to touch. The master who shines the brightest in my memory is the one who wished to receive power over the rest of the world."

Ciel blinked, the automatic caustic remark freezing on his tongue.

"Power over the rest of the world?" he asked incredulously. "How could you possibly grant something like this? And haven't you just said that power is among the most boring wishes?"

Sebastian shrugged.

"I have never met a human who would be so audacious that he would ask to hold power over the continents," he remarked. "Normally, demons would ignore such request, but I appreciated the creativity that came with it."

Resentment was still tugging at him, coiling in heavy circles, but curiosity managed to win out.

"And how did you fulfil his wish?" Ciel demanded. Then he realised how sorely jealous he sounded. An ugly flush heated his skin, but once again, Sebastian didn't react, and Ciel sagged under the impact of bone-crushing relief, hoping it'd cool down his burning face.

He had to control himself. He'd known he would be unlikely to appreciate Sebastian's answers, he prepared in advance, so why was he letting all this get to him?

"I spread one of the deadliest plagues across the world," Sebastian said smugly, raising his chin, so ridiculously proud of himself that Ciel choked on a laugh despite the heaviness that was still wrapped around his heart.

"In the name of your master?" he clarified dryly.

"Technically, I belonged to him during that period. It means that all my actions were in his name."

"So you intimidated the entire world with the plague, but as it was, your master received no actual credit and had to watch from afar?"

Sebastian's smile turned even more arrogant, and Ciel wondered if he could split his lips from smirking so widely.

"Indeed. My master held the key to one of the most destructive phenomena in the history of humanity. Millions of people all over the world were terrified simultaneously because of him, so in a way, his power was absolute. In reality, he couldn't use it, and no one believed him when he tried to say he was responsible. Strictly speaking, the contract was fulfilled from the moment the world learned of the plague, but I waited for the number of the deceased to reach ten million before consuming my master's soul."

"So you misled him," Ciel surmised. "The poor man thought he would become a king of the world, was probably envisioning a palace large enough to take the entire country, and you presented him with the plague he couldn't even claim… wait a moment. A deadly plague? Do you mean the Black Death?"

"It is still viewed as the deadliest epidemic the world has ever seen," Sebastian boasted, and Ciel laughed so hard he nearly fell off his chair. Unwittingly, he thought that maybe he shouldn't find this funny, knowing the extent of destruction and suffering Sebastian's gleeful joke had caused, but he just couldn't help it. Laughter replaced the poisonous bite of bitterness, and he gladly chose it over the depressing alternative.

Sebastian looked unbearably pleased with his reaction, and fondness that washed over Ciel at this moment was almost frightening in its fever.

"I hope you will be able to shut up about it," he said, trying to sound strict. "I won't tolerate any boasting on this topic."

Sebastian nodded, but his lips trembled, revealing the persistent curl of a smile.

"All right, but this contract…" Ciel furrowed his brows. "It's not about your master. It's about you. It's memorable because you managed to twist an idiotic wish into something that allowed you to wreak global destruction."

"It is," Sebastian agreed. "It's the reason why I remember him."

"But it's not a good reason!"

Sebastian stared at him blankly, obviously having no idea what Ciel found dissatisfying. Shaking his head wearily, Ciel dropped it on his hands.

Unbelievable. Out of all his masters, Sebastian remembered the biggest idiot. Even Ciel's vanity wouldn't let him fall so low — he'd rather be forgotten than be remembered as a joke.

In this case, he'd be happy to stick to old-fashioned revenge and his initial plans. Sebastian was too detached from humanity, it was impossible to truly reason with him.

"Is my answer sufficient?"

"More or less," with a sigh, Ciel raised his head again. "Fine. Let's hear your question."

Just like that, the traces of amusement slid off Sebastian's face. His lips curved a little, baring his teeth in a cruel sneer, and a sudden flare of maliciousness in his eyes made Ciel freeze.

Sebastian was going to ask something terrible. He wasn't interested in learning anything, he wasn't going to embarrass him — no, he was going to attack. He was going to say something that was intended to hurt and humiliate, to shake Ciel's composure as thoroughly as Sebastian's had been shaken earlier.

Overcome with panic, Ciel hastened to slam down all the defensive walls he had, schooling his features until his face felt frozen.

He couldn't allow himself to react outwardly. He'd have to maintain a mask regardless of what Sebastian said, and he'd have to reply in an even voice. No gasps, no shudders, no flinches — nothing that could betray what he really felt.

Sebastian opened his mouth, and Ciel braced himself.

"How do you understand the concept of attachment?"

His brain was so tightly coiled around the need to avoid reacting that for a moment, Ciel didn't move, keeping his expression carefully blank. Then the words penetrated his mind, and he blinked, staring at Sebastian in disbelief.

He wasn't the only one. Sebastian looked as astonished by the question as Ciel felt, as if he couldn't believe it had come out of his mouth.

"Could you repeat that?" Ciel asked slowly. Sebastian was silent, but his jaw was clenched tightly. It felt… it felt like he was angry with himself. For asking the wrong thing? Why had he done it?

He had been planning to hurl an absolutely annihilating question at him. There were no doubts here — Ciel could still recall that malicious curve of his mouth, those spite and venom in his stare. But something had stopped him. Something changed his mind at the very last second, and it didn't look like Sebastian was pleased with it.

"What is attachment, in your view?" he repeated reluctantly, every next syllable sounding sourer than the previous one.

Well. While Ciel believed it was moronic to waste a question like this, he couldn't deny the relief that was now coursing freely through his veins, warming his scared mind.

He didn't want to know what Sebastian had planned to ask initially. Talking about feelings wasn't ideal either, but he'd take that over whatever had made Sebastian look so malevolent just a minute ago any time.

"Attachment," Ciel said aloud. It was such an insipid and bewildering thing to wonder about… Why would it be the first thing Sebastian had blurted out?

But no matter. The least he could do was try to give him a complete and detailed answer.

"Attachment is a feeling of… fondness for a person you have a bond with," he uttered, his voice hesitant, betraying his confusion. "It can differ in intensity. It can be… something small, like wanting to hear from a person occasionally and to know they are all right." Most people Ciel knew fell into this group. Elisabeth. Aunt Francis.

Madam Red.

"Or it can be something stronger," he added, even more awkwardly now. "Like needing to see someone very often and missing them if it doesn't happen. Being unable to imagine your life without them. But if attachment is present, in either case, you want to take care of this person. You try to…" The thoughts of Elisabeth filled his head again, bringing a surge of indulgence and exasperation. "You try to spare their feelings, to do what you normally wouldn't because you don't want them to be hurt. You compromise your own beliefs because having them angry or worse, upset with you, isn't pleasant. You want to comfort them and to make sure they are safe, from someone else or from you, it doesn't matter. Seeing them happy brings satisfaction to you."

Ciel fell silent, unsure what else he could say on the topic. Sebastian was listening with a stony expression, and piecing his thoughts at this moment was completely impossible.

"'For a person you have a bond with,'" he repeated coldly. "What kind of bond?"

"Any kind," Ciel shrugged. "It could be someone you knew years ago, and even if you have nothing in common now, you are still attached to them based on those memories you once shared. It could be someone you spend a lot of time with… or your family."

"How can anyone be attached to a person they have nothing in common with?"

"You might not love these people, but you are still attached to them," Ciel rubbed his forehead, hoping this conversation was coming to an end. Talking to a demon about feelings was a unique experience, but not something he wanted to prolong or repeat. Ever. "It can be because of the shared past or because you had friendship once. It's like… nostalgia."

"Nostalgia," Sebastian said flatly. "Then what about the beings you've just met and do have something in common with? If nostalgia isn't a factor, how can this… attachment be formed?"

"I don't know!" Ciel threw his hands up in frustration. "It's not like I have a big experience with this sort of thing. The only people I know are the ones I've always known. What about you? You've existed for an eternity. Are you telling me you've never had friends, or however you demons call them?"

Sebastian mulled over it, and Ciel instinctively leaned closer to him.

On the one hand, he didn't want to know anything about Sebastian's past, but on the other, he couldn't help but wonder. Who was Sebastian thinking about? Did demons even form relationships, or were they solely concerned about filling their stomachs?

"I have… acquaintances," Sebastian said finally. His voice sounded distant. "Perhaps one of them is friendlier than others. Nonetheless, attachment is a foreign concept for me."

"I imagine most of them are," Ciel grumbled. Sebastian said nothing, just stared at him. "So, is my answer satisfying?"

Again, no reply, but Sebastian shrugged a little, and Ciel chose to read it as agreement. The last five minutes felt surreal, and he wasn't sure it was in a good way.

"On to my second question, then," he crossed his hands across his chest. This question was more important, but for some reason, he dreaded the possible answer. "When Grell said he knows who's responsible for the death of my family, you tried to kill him. Why?"

Something strange and quick flickered on Sebastian's face before fading into the usual blankness.

"You gave me an order to kill him."

Evasion. Interesting.

"I did," Ciel agreed, pushing back against his chair and regarding him closely. "But contrary to how you behave at times, you do possess some common sense. Grell was the first possible witness we came across in these years. The least you could do was pause and consult with me. Instead, you rushed to get rid of him. Why?"

Sebastian resembled a dead statue. It didn't look like he was planning on speaking, and this time, Ciel frowned.

"The contract states that you can't lie to me. You and I made a deal: no evasions. Only the truth."

Finally, some emotions returned to Sebastian's face, and he relaxed, sending a condescending smile his way.

"I'm afraid your second question doesn't warrant a detailed reply, my lord," he uttered. "I sensed that Grell had lied. It's as simple as that. Creatures like us have a heightened ability to sense each other, so I could immediately read his intentions."

For some reason, Ciel had never considered it. Disappointment and frustration swept through him, leaving him cold, and he pursed his lips, trying to control his temper.

Grell had lied. Of course he had — he just wanted to save his pathetic life, and since he spent so much time in Madam Red's company, he knew what Ciel wanted most. It was just a manipulation, one that Sebastian had detected.

How could he waste his question like this? It was even worse than Sebastian's failed attempt… And who knew what he was going to ask now? He kept smiling, which was never good. But at least this time, the smile wasn't hostile, so Ciel could guess it wasn't going to be the unvoiced first question.

Sebastian put his hands on the table before shifting his weight, pushing himself forward.

"Will you run from me?" he asked conversationally. "When our contract ends and your turn to fulfil your part comes. Will you try to escape? To make another bargain?"

Ciel gaped at him incredulously. For a moment, he couldn't believe his ears, and then violent indignation began to simmer in him, bursting in short heated splashes of resentment. So Sebastian thought he was a coward? A weakling?

"You—" he lashed out, but Sebastian stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"No offense is implied, Young Master. I only ask you to consider this. Knowing that one day, you will have to hypothetically give away your soul is very different from doing it when the time comes. I have served many masters. There were plenty of battle-tested warriors among them, and you'd be surprised at the number of those who begged for mercy at the end. The majority tried to run. Some tried to summon another demon to protect themselves from me. So I merely wonder if you can state with certainty that after realising that tomorrow won't come, you will be able to keep yourself still, to calmly wait for your soul to be consumed."

Something unpleasant and scared jerked in his chest before Ciel forcefully pushed it down. Narrowing his eyes, he watched Sebastian silently, wondering how to reply.

"Do you know what my wish is, Sebastian?" he finally asked. Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

"Revenge," he said laconically.

"Revenge is a general concept. What does it entail? In my case? What do I want you to do to those responsible once we find them?"

"Kill them," Sebastian sounded more wary this time, as if he wasn't sure where this was going.

"Yes," Ciel agreed. "My wish is death. Death fuels me. It gives me purpose, it motivates me in everything that I do. I was supposed to die back in that winter, and I had all time in the world to understand and accept it. When you are locked in a cage for so long, seeing others being killed daily, you can't help but accept your mortality. Unlike those masters you've told me about, I have already embraced it. I came back not because I wanted to live but because I wanted to drag several others into death with me. So when my time comes, I'm not going to run from it. I'm living on borrowed time, and I fully expect it to end at some point. In fact," Ciel added, "I'll hold you responsible if it doesn't because I have no intention to stay in this numb state forever. I expect you to help me to make progress in this investigation within the next several years."

Sebastian's gaze was indecipherable. When he spoke again, his voice was as expressionless as his face.

"But death isn't the only implication you have to prepare yourself for. As I warned you before our contract was finalised, by making a deal with me, you forfeited your chance to enter the afterlife. When I consume your soul, it will cease to exist. You will never be reborn. You will never reunite with your family. You will be eliminated from all worlds altogether, and in a thousand years, even your name will fade from the records. It'll be as if you have never existed."

This time, the bite of unease was much harsher, and Ciel had to apply an effort to subdue his reaction.

"Considering the idea of being reborn," he said quietly, "it's not like I would remember who I was. So it doesn't matter. With the afterlife… what makes you think I want to enter it?"

Sebastian blinked quickly, as if he couldn't make sense of Ciel's words.

"Because all humans do?" he murmured, but it sounded like a question, and Ciel scoffed.

"I'm not 'all humans'," he spat derisively. "And there is no one in the afterlife who would truly welcome me."

If anything, Sebastian looked even more mystified.

"You don't believe your family would welcome you?" he asked doubtfully. "I thought—"

"Well, you thought wrong!" A sudden surge of anger pushed Ciel to his feet. Breathing out harshly, he pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for three and a half seconds before inhaling again.

There. Much better.

"All my life, my parents were trying to protect me," he said calmly. "I have no idea what they wanted to achieve and what role they wanted me to take as I grew up, but they tried hard to make sure I stayed as pure as a newborn. Of course, they didn't entirely succeed, and there were sides of me they never suspected of, but what I was then is still very far from who I am now. And trust me, Sebastian, they wouldn't want to see me like this. They'd think me their biggest disappointment."

Sebastian let out a bark of incredulous laughter.

"I find that hard to believe," he stated arrogantly, and despite the heaviness in his heart, Ciel nearly smiled. Was Sebastian actually offended on his behalf? "You accepted the duties of your predecessor and you continue his work. You preserved the name of Phantomhives."

"I didn't preserve it, I merely prolonged its existence. I made a contract with you. It presupposes my death. I won't have an heir, so the Phantomhives will die with me. My aunt still carries my blood, but my name will be gone very soon."

Sebastian bristled, but Ciel was too tired to decipher the reasons for it. Sometimes it felt like Sebastian liked to be offended just for the sake of it. It could be fun to dissect his reactions, but right now, he only wanted to finish this conversation and go to bed.

"Tell me this," he said. "If I ran, would you catch me? Or would you let me go?"

A surprisingly tender smile touched Sebastian's lips, with all traces of dissatisfaction fading.

"You are mine," he said, softly but condescendingly. "I would never let you go."

"You are mine," Ciel corrected him. "I'm not yours yet. But I will be, and you will never let me escape. I wouldn't be able to run even to the door before you caught me. So do you think I would disgrace myself like a coward for two seconds of meaningless hope?"

At least this had to work. If Sebastian didn't trust emotional explanations, he would probably understand logical ones.

"No," Sebastian said after a long pause. His voice was strangely subdued again. "I do not think so."

"Good," Ciel stretched, checking the clock. Today was an eventful day, but even though he wasn't particularly happy with the last twenty minutes, he still gained a victory. Now it was time to go to bed and savour it. "If that's all, I announce our game to be finished. Get me some tea and something sweet to eat."

"You've eaten too many desserts over these past few days as it is," Sebastian argued. He stood up as well, and the remains of the strange mood between them dissipated.

"Not nearly enough," Ciel retorted, walking out of his office.

While there were some less than pleasant moments, he enjoyed this game very much. And despite his weariness, he was already looking forward to starting a new one.

Maybe tomorrow.

A/N:

Aleta Wolff, ah, thank you so much for your lovely words! I'm happy you enjoyed the last chapter. I did try to update by the New Year and barely made it, so I'm glad you liked it. Ciel and Sebastian are hopeless in expressing their feelings, and writing about their attempts to process them is endlessly fun. I hope you'll keep enjoying this story, and sorry for the long wait!

TheBeautyInTheDarkness, thank you, I hope you enjoyed this one as well!

Guest, thank you, I'm so happy you enjoyed it! And I hope this new chapter was as much fun to read it as it was to write it))

Aservis Roturier, thank you for your as always insightful words! I'm truly glad you enjoyed this chapter. There are so many opportunities presented in both anime and manga, and I love trying to imagine what could have happened in the middle or as they ended. Sometimes it feels like Ciel and Sebastian live the main chunks of their life behind the scenes, and we can only attempt to reconstruct them.

Hilary Potter, thank you, I'm so happy you keep enjoying this story! We'll definitely have Sebastian's POV , though it might take a while yet))

Unicorn0818, oh, thank you! I also look forward to writing a chapter from Sebastian's POV. We'll have it around Hamlet OVA.

Manon, thanks, I really hope you'll continue enjoying this story!

UnluckyRabbit, hi there! Thank you so much for your amazing comment, I was so happy when I got it. It truly made my day and forced me to laugh out loud, nearly waking everyone up)) I'm thrilled you decided to give it a chance, especially as you ended up reading it in one go :D I fell so in love with anime when watched it that I just couldn't help wanting to write something about it. Through all episodes, it felt like Ciel and Sebastian keep living separate and very important moments behind the scenes. The tone of their relationship changes unexpectedly from episode to episode, and I kept wondering what it was about, trying to imagine different versions of events that could happen. So this story is basically an exploration of that — and of course I look forward to post S2 because there are so many interesting potential arcs waiting there.

Tea is my passion, sometimes I feel like it's running in my veins instead of blood, lol :D Thank you again for your wonderful comment, I re-read it several times and it never failed to put a huge smile on my face.

Guest, yes, there will be a Sebastian chapter, but a little later. And sorry for keeping you waiting — I hope the size of the chapter compensates for the long wait :D

Elen, thank you! And your comment arrived just in time for an update))