Author's note: Sorry for the wait, but I got covid-19, and then both my parents got it and I had to take care of them.


That Butler, In Attendance


I own nothing but my OC.

≤speech in Indian language≥

'thoughts'

"speech"

{setting/stage directions?}

SOUND EFFECTS

An entire sentence like this, without quotes, is narration for dreams or stuff like written letters.

=†=†=†=†= scene shift/time shift

—^—^—^— change of perspective/area of action within one specific time frame/location


Previously:

"… Enough of this," Ciel said, reminding his maid and butler that he was still there in Sebastian's other arm. "Take us home, Sebastian."

"Yes, My Lord," Sebastian said. Before she could object, he wrapped his arm around Chêne and held her tight, making sure she couldn't escape. They were off. Chêne's tears were swept away on the night breeze.


The Circus's camp grounds were buzzing with speculation. It was so cold, their breaths could be seen in the chilled air.

"Wot's become o' Mister Joker an' the rest?" one troupe member with light hair asked Snake.

"Aww, 'e said 'e'd be back today, too," said another with dark hair.

"I have yet to catch even a whiff of him so he can't be nearby… says Oscar..." Snake replied after listening to the green snake with a lighter underbelly.

"This's the first time this's happened, ain't it?" the dark-haired troupe member said.

"They all right, you think?" the one with light hair asked.

"He said he'd return by morning too… says Emily," Snake said for a red snake with black and white stripes.

"So wot d'we do 'bout today's show?" the light-haired troupe member asked.

"Let's have stand-ins ready jus' in case..." the dark-haired troupe member suggested. Snake walked away. Past the people. Past the tents. He paused briefly at the entrance to the circus and looked up at its sign for a moment before stepping through.

"Being all by oneself is lonely..." Snake said.

=†=†=†=†=†=

Ciel, Sebastian, and Chêne stood in front of the train station, staring at its stately facade. Sebastian glanced down at his wife, who was standing beside him. When Chêne heard they were going to visit the Redbourn workhouse, she insisted on coming, despite the fact that she didn't seem to want to be in the same room as them. It was the first time she had spoken to either him or Ciel since they returned to the townhouse. She still performed her duties as a maid, but she had distanced herself from them. She didn't talk to them unless she had to. She seemed to be deep in thought most of the time. She hadn't smiled once.

"Let's go," Ciel said, taking a step forward to lead the way inside. The train station was a hive of activity. People were bustling about everywhere, trying to buy tickets, selling things, trying to catch a train, or waiting for the arrival of friends and loved ones. Chêne took in the lively scene with a despondent expression on her face. They made their way to their train.

"Good sir," a little girl called out, getting their attention as Ciel was entering the first-class passenger car. She hurried over to them when they stopped. "Would you care for some oranges?" she asked hopefully. "They're a penny each." Ciel looked at her. The little girl's face and clothes were dirty, but she was dressed neatly with her hair in braided pigtails. She was clearly trying her best with what little she had.

"Buy some," Ciel ordered Sebastian, even though Chêne was already digging through her coin purse for a penny, deciding to be charitable.

"!" the little girl lit up like a 1000 watt bulb, shining with gratitude. "Thank you so much!" She handed Sebastian and Chêne their oranges in exchange for the pennies. "May the Lord bless your journey." Sebastian and Chêne followed Ciel into first-class, helping him settle into a private compartment. Sebastian shut the door behind him. Chêne put her orange in her pocket for later. She didn't have an appetite at the moment.

"As we left on short notice, I could not procure third-class tickets," Sebastian informed Ciel as he put the suitcase he was carrying up on the luggage rack. "I apologize for the two of us accompanying you in a first-class seat."

"I don't particularly mind," Ciel said carelessly. Although, if Chêne kept up her current behavior, it was going to be one dismal ride.

RIIIING!

The train's bell signaled its departure, and it began noisily moving down the tracks.

GATHUNK. GATHUNK. GATHUNK.

The steam and smoke from the engine streamed along the length of the train as it rolled down the rail at a vigorous pace. The three of them stared out of the window in silence, watching as their surroundings became blurs.

"… May I..." Sebastian ventured, picking up Ciel's orange. "Ask you a question?" Chêne looked at him out the corner of her eye.

"Let's hear it," Ciel said boredly, still gazing out the window, while Sebastian began skinning the orange with a folding pocket knife.

"Why are you going to the workhouse where they were raised?" Sebastian asked. Ciel looked him. Judging by the surprised look on his face, the butler had caught him off-guard.

"Their patron is no more, so the workhouse can't keep operating. Now they need a new patron. Someone like Earl Burton, who doesn't frown on making donations to charity, would be ideal, so an introduction may well be in order," Ciel replied smoothly.

"Do you pity them?" Sebastian asked. Chêne was also interested to know this. She was worried about Ciel after what happened.

"Dealing with the aftermath is also part of my—Phantomhive's—duties," Ciel replied. "There is no need for society to pay for the underworld's selfishness." Chêne furrowed her brow slightly.

"Then what of those children?" Sebastian said, posing the same question Chêne wanted to ask. He held out the peeled and separated orange to Ciel. Ciel took a slice.

"—I have seen children like that before, many of them," Ciel said. "Once they get to be that way, there is no bringing them back. … And in that case..."

"… They are better off dead?" Sebastian said sardonically. "How very arrogant of you."

"Ha! Is there truly any human who is not arrogant?" Ciel retorted cynically.

"Heh! Well, I have yet to meet one, but..." Sebastian responded, glancing sideways at his wife. This was usually where she tried to argue the point. She remained silent. "Don't you have anything to say on the matter? Aren't you going to say you're 'different'?" he asked her.

"No," she said quietly, surprising him. "I'm arrogant too, at times."

"For a weak human… let alone a child, how much strength do you think they have to muster in order to rise anew from that situation?" Ciel asked them. "I myself was only able to recover because I happened to be able to summon a creature like you back then…" he told Sebastian. "But the lone demon there in the Kelvin manor was you. And you belong to me. I am indeed arrogant." He looked out the window again, and Chêne thought she saw sadness in his eyes. "—However… I'm not so arrogant as to boast irresponsibly that I can save anyone." Sebastian closed his eyes and smiled.

"Is that so?" the demon butler said calmly.

"So… that's why?" Chêne asked sadly, causing them to look at her. "You didn't think you could save anyone? Ciel, you're not alone, you know. You don't have to do everything by yourself. It may be true that you can't save everyone, but that doesn't mean you should condemn everyone else to death as well. Even if you failed, at least you would have given them a chance to save themselves. You and Sebastian have said it before. Humans will grasp even a spider's thread to pull themselves up from hell. People—children—are stronger than you think. They come back from hells like what those children went through more often than you'd think where I come from. They may never be the same again, but they struggle on nonetheless. And they don't need a demon for that. They need help from a reliable support system and a strong will to recover. I was able to recover from my kidnapping because I had my family. Those children could have been helped by theirs. But you took that from them."

"And what about the children who can't escape that hell? Are they just supposed to live with it?" Ciel retorted.

"If they really can't live with it, then they won't," Chêne said somberly.

"Ah, 'taking the easy way out', is it?" Sebastian asked. "So you're comfortable with condemning those children to the real thing? After all, that's the fate that Catholics believe awaits all suicides, yes?"

"That's what they say, but… I'd like to think God is more merciful than that," Chêne replied sadly, closing her eyes. "I'd like to think they would be forgiven. He's supposed to be better than us, isn't he?" Sebastian stared at her for a moment, a little surprised. He laughed, making her flinch in shock.

"Heh! You always say the most amusing things," he told her.

"Don't laugh at me!" she protested. "I'm just saying… It should have been their choice whether they wanted to live or die. I don't think we had the right to make that choice for them."

"We?" Ciel asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, we," she said, surprising them. "I should have trusted my dream and gone with you. Maybe then I could have changed your mind or something… prevented it somehow…"

"I told you, I won't let you be taken from me," Sebastian reminded her firmly.

"Yes, you said that..." Chêne said, so overcome with a multitude of conflicting feelings that she didn't know what else to say.

"What is this you keep saying about her 'being taken'?" Ciel asked, frowning. "You mentioned something about Undertaker as well, before."

"..." Chêne wasn't sure she wanted to tell him, given how Sebastian had reacted.

"Ah, yes. It seems Chêne ran into Undertaker while she was visiting the College of Arms for you. And he told her a story," Sebastian said with a shit-eating grin. "It was about how all of her ancestors with the ability to have visions were wiped out."

"..." Ciel found that disconcerting. "They were wiped out because of their visions?"

"Yes," Sebastian replied. "Apparently they abused their power, and were therefore punished."

"Extinction seems a bit harsh," Ciel remarked.

"That's interesting, coming from you," Sebastian said with the hint of a smirk. Ciel furrowed his brow at him.

"They were breaking the universe," Chêne said, deciding to speak up. "According to the story, they warped reality so much that it split into two parallel worlds. Probably because of the time paradoxes..."

"Time paradox?" Ciel asked.

"It's a contradiction associated with time or time travel," she explained. "For example, let's say in a normal, healthy timeline a man eats and apple, and he chokes, but is saved by the woman who becomes his wife, and they have children together, and one of those children cures cancer. However, if the man somehow learns ahead of time that he will choke, he could choose not to eat the apple, which means he never meets his future wife, and they never have children, which creates a cascade effect where cancer isn't cured and all the people who could have been saved die, and the things they would have done and people they could have influenced never happen. It's like the butterfly effect. One small action can create a typhoon of trouble. But Lacey had a theory that the universe wouldn't allow time paradoxes because they could break reality. She said that would be where parallel universes come in, because it lets the paradoxes branch off and continue on their own route, while the main timeline remains unchanged. She said Dr. Who had it right in that some events are fixed and can't be altered, while the rest of time is still in flux. That could be what happened with our worlds, why some things are so similar it's eerie, yet there are still distinct differences. So far all of the major world events have happened the same, which could mean they were fixed points. Maybe I, and you two too, were able to slip through between worlds because they're still connected in some places, and that moment in time was in flux?"

"Maybe..." Ciel said.

"It certainly is an interesting theory," Sebastian conceded. They both still had a lot of questions, but at least Chêne was talking to them again, and about something other than the children.

=†=†=†=†=†=

The train pulled into the station, and they disembarked. There were no carriages there for public transportation, so Sebastian approached the only other option available. An old man who was loading milk pails into his wagon.

"Renbourn Workhouse?" the old man asked skeptically, clearly wondering what they could possibly want with that place.

"Would you please take us there?" Sebastian requested politely.

"It's on me way, so I don't mind, but wot's an aristocratic gent like ye want with a place like that?" the old man questioned.

"We have some business to take care of there," Sebastian replied, pressing some coins in the man's hand.

—^—^—^—

That evidently did the trick, because the next thing Chêne knew, she and Ciel were riding in the back of his cart along with the milk and a pile of hay. Sebastian elected to walk, carrying the suitcase. The ride was a little bumpy. As they rode on, they came upon some children who were walking from the opposite direction, singing.

"Tom, he was a piper's son,
He learnt to play when he was young,
And all the tune that he could play,
Was 'Over the hills and far away'…
Over the hills and a great way off,
The wind shall blow my topknot off~"

"!" Ciel and Chêne said when the wagon came to a sudden, rocky halt.

"I'm sure t'was yonder this hill," the old man said, directing them to a dirt path that led over the grassy hill he had stopped in front of. Ciel walked up the hill without complaint, Sebastian at his heels.

'T'was…?' Chêne thought, frowning slightly as she followed them. 'Not 't'is'…?' She was starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. Nevertheless, they continued to march on up the hill. Ciel took that first step onto the crest of the hill.

WOOOSH.

"!" Ciel said as he shielded his face from the strong gust of wind that suddenly swept over the hill. Ciel squinted, then his eye widened in shock.

"Ah!" Chêne gasped when she saw it too, covering her mouth with her hands. They had found Renbourn, or what was left of it anyway. The sign was covered in vines and missing letters. The buildings looked as though they had been partially demolished. There was a ripped, moldy, abandoned teddy bear in the rubble. Off in the distance they could see a single bench on the edge of a meadow. Clearly, no one had lived there for years.

"It would seem that Baron Kelvin was lying," Sebastian observed. "This place appears so dilapidated that it has mostly likely been uninhabited for quite some time…"

"No way… then all the children here…!?" Chêne said, wishing it wasn't true as she thought of what terrible fate might have befallen them.

"Yes," Sebastian agreed as he squatted down to examine the bear. "Judging by from the way in which the doctor was speaking, perhaps the children here were also..." He spared her from having to hear it said aloud. Ciel just continued to stare at their surroundings, stunned. He remembered how desperately Joker had fought and pleaded with them to protect their 'many little brothers and sisters' at the workhouse. He remembered the look on Doll's face when she said she would never forgive him for crushing her family. He began to shake.

"… Fu." Ciel gritted his teeth, trying to contain himself. "…! Kuh…!"

"Young Master?" Sebastian said, standing up.

"Ciel, are you—!?" Chêne started to ask, startled when he suddenly started laughing uncontrollably.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Chêne and Sebastian stared at him with wide eyes.

"There was nothing left," Ciel shouted. "What they were trying to protect had ceased to be long ago." He tossed his head back, holding onto the brim of his hat. "Without even knowing that much, they were still that desperate… and they all died in the end!! AHHAHAHAHAHA!" Chêne couldn't hold her tears back anymore. They came flooding out, streaming down her face while she watched Ciel laugh like a madman. "Sneering at desperate wishes and trampling them like insects. How dishonest… and cruel… and ugly. So much more devilish than even an actual devil. Is that not so? AHHAHAHAHA! AHHAHAHAHA! Haha… Ha..." His laughter suddenly died down. "—I am the same," Ciel said. "I too… am packed full of the same hideous stuffing as they. This is what we humans are! This is what humans are like!!" he shouted with an anguished expression on his face. "Sebastian!! Chêne!!" Chêne didn't say anything. She couldn't, not after what he did. Not after she was willing to overlook it just to stay with them. She just ran to Ciel and held him tight, still crying. Sebastian stared at his master with wide eyes for a moment.

"Yes, quite," he said with the hint of a smile. "You are different from devils in that you possess mean and complex malice… and you lie—

"!" Ciel and Chêne squeezed their eyes shut at another gust of strong wind.

FWOOSH.

The bow on the ribbon around Ciel's hat was pulled loose. "Ah..." Ciel said, surprised when the wind stole his ribbon. Ciel reached for it, but it was already floating beyond the tips of his fingers.

'You struggle desperately and kick others down...' Sebastian thought as he watched the ribbon float past him. He reached for it, but it fluttered up beyond his grasp. 'You rob and are robbed in return, all the while repeating your excuses… Yet still you aim for the yonder over the hills.' All three of them watched as the ribbon flew away. Sebastian's pupils constricted to slits as he smiled up at the sky. 'That is exactly why I find humans so amusing.'