A/N: HEY GUYS! Today, I'm in a good mood and had time to hang out with some friends, and since I don't have some terrible hangover or drank anything, I decided to review another chapter and post it! I may post more today… maybe not?... I'm not sure, yet. Haven't decided.

This'll be wrapping out this 'arc', if you want to call these first few chapters an arc. Considering I'm going to be changing the location of our protagonists, and it'll practically be ten-ish chapters before we're back at the mortuary, I figured I'll say that. Don't worry~. They'll return to the mortuary eventually, but for now the location will be changing… for a while.

I got tired of having them in this one location, so it's time to switch it up a bit!

And~… I think that's about it, at the moment. I'm drinking some delicious newly bought sakura cherry tea, so all is great with me! And whatever sickness I had… hopefully it's over, for a while. I'd hate to feel sick, again, but I may be having hay fever… so that sucks.

You guys ENJOY your upcoming weekend!

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

I woke up, a tad confused.

The sweet smell of lavender and sweet blueberries filled my nostrils, causing me to breath in deeply and exhale in response…

Until I realized, my hand was draped over a warm lump in my bed, or at least I think this is my bed, and I slowly opened an eye to notice a face turned my way, breathing softly as her head laid tilted slightly on my other pillow.

I widened my eyes, trying to hold in my breathe, as to not disturb the sleeping beauty. I quickly glanced down, glad to notice that we were still in our clothes, but… when did this happen?

… I recall seeing Claudia by my face, illuminated by the moonlight… but surely that wasn't Clara, right? Well apparently, I was wrong.

And I held back the need to groan in absolute humiliation.

A gentleman doesn't let a lady sleep in his bed, like this. Not like this! What even is this human? Does she have no morals? Wouldn't she be afraid that I'd do something to her?

Not that I would. Not if she didn't want to, but still!

Even this felt like this was too much. No one simply jumped into bed with me. Not unless I intentionally seduced them. A quick one night stand before I moved on to my next assignment. It never lasts…

But why? Why does this minx seduce me, like this? This cannot be normal. Maybe she needs medications, or she has a metal problem…

But no. I cannot think that way.

Her smile, her laughter… it's contagious. She looks like a peaceful doll… no. Not even a doll. An angel. A perfect angel, sleeping contently in my bed…

But at some point, her eyes began to open, and she smiled, causing me to smile lightly, before I couldn't stop myself from frowning, slightly. "… Sorry. You're just warm. I couldn't resist," she stated, smiling sweetly.

But I could tell that was a lie.

No, there was another reason. Why?... I'm not quite sure, myself, but I decided to play along as I happily smiled back. "If you say so."

"… Hey, Undertaker," she began, catching my attention before I could let my thoughts wander to unrestrained areas, "I was wondering… do you actually want to go to the Phantomhive manor? O-or are we too busy too?... If you don't like social interactions, I understand."

"I don't mind seeing the little Phantomhives," I decided to say with a smirk. It's true, though. Family or not, I still enjoy their company. Though, the new countess is a bit too kind, but I can see why Vincent picked the poor girl. And dear Francis… such an independent mother, now. Time really does fly, doesn't it?...

But I'm not exactly thrilled about it. Watching the children grow up, and have children of their own. Poor Countess Claudia never did get to see those grandkids. The woman her son picked as his wife. The cute little Midford girl that looks and acts strangely like her, though a bit more preppy. Giggly, but I'm sure with age she'll be the perfect little Claudia clone.

Still… my eyes stared at the girl in my bed, lying there as if nothing was wrong. "… I feel like this is improper," I decided to say, pausing for a moment before continuing, "to have you in my bed, like this. Is this what women in your time do? Jump into bed with men whom they have no feelings for?"

I couldn't stop my amusement at the slightly shocked look on her face, followed by a light hearted giggle, her breath strangely alluring against my cold skin. "With friends. Or family. We have a thing called sleepovers, where you go to someone's house, as children, and sleep with them in sleeping bags. There's also 'hanging out', and if you get drunk, a good friend brings you home and lets you crash at their place," she smiled, but I could only understand about half of what she said. Apparently, my confused face was enough to make her sigh in response. "… I enjoy your warmth, okay? It's been a while since I cuddled up against another person… Sorry for being weird about it," she mumbled, glancing away, but I reached over for her face.

Her eyelids blinked, her gaze a tad confused, as I brought her face back in alignment with the pillow, her eyes staring into mine, before I smiled lightly. "Then, you've been in many relationships."

"You could say that," she scoffed underneath her breath, her snorting causing me to smirk in response, but she continued in a soft tone, "nothing too sexual, though. I've never slept with a guy before," she admitted, causing me to smirk.

"No guys~? Perhaps something else?" I grinned, snickering as she slapped me lightly in the arm. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to cause me to laugh a bit louder, causing the girl to huff in response.

"… I'm not telling if you~ don't tell me," she grinned, her mischievous grin rivaling my own, and I chuckled lowly to myself.

"Is that a challenge~~?" I snickered, but she simply smirked back in return, waiting in anticipation. "… Fine," I finally spoke, breaking whatever tension seemed to be lingering in the air. "Ladies first~"

"… Fine," she mumbled, her face glancing away once more, but this time I patiently waited. I could tell she likes to take her time, pondering her next move. It gives me time to look over the delicate features of her face, the sparkle in her strangely alluring human gaze, though seemingly overworldly, in its own right, and… the smile. That light smile she always keeps on her face… unless she's angry. Or sad. It takes a lot of effort for the girl to not be smiling, in one form or another.

"I've been in a romantic relationship with… several girls, and one guy," she responded, causing me to frown, slightly, but noticing my pouting she started to giggle to herself. "You go."

"Fine… about six women… and multitude of males, though that doesn't mean I cared much for them," I decided to say, causing the girl to frown, slightly, at my honesty.

"Why? Do you not care about romance?" she asked, but I simply smirked in response.

Of course I care. Maybe a bit more then I should, but… "The women, I can name. The males… they were just a fleeting moment. An itch that got scratched," I stated, though I could tell the girl was feeling uncomfortable.

But, of course, she let out a sigh, calming herself before she continued. "That's a shame."

"… What about you?" I decided to ask, and she smiled sadly in reply, causing my own smile to falter, just a tad.

"I had a childhood sweetheart. A human boy I grew up with. I ended up seeing him again, when I was an adult… but I let him go because… he doesn't need to be caught up in my problems," she told me, and I smiled meekly in reply, understanding such a position. Such a loss. "And the girls, well, it just happened. I've had sex, though. Just not with any guys," she admitted, causing my eyebrows, if I had any, to rise slightly, but I stayed silent and let the girl finish. "… One of them was thrown back in time, too, in fact… but I have a feeling I need to let her go, too. Or she let me go. I-I don't really know, at this point," she sighed tiredly to herself, but I couldn't help but frown at that new piece of information.

I'm not quite sure why I care, but the idea of the young dear loving another… well… makes me wonder why she's even in my bed, in the first place. If she didn't want to get closer to me, in some way.

"I am bi, though. Male, female, I don't actually care. I'm more interested in any emotional attraction… Bi means a person enjoys both men and women, by the way," she decided to say, and I chuckled lowly in response.

"I suppose that means I'm the same… bi, is it?"

"Bisexual… so, what about you?" she decided to ask, and I paused, unsure what I should say as she continued with a tired sigh, "How terrible was your love life, huh?"

"Terrible," I chuckled lowly to myself, but honestly, I didn't want to admit it. But… considering the conversations we've had, and the scare I had just yesterday, perhaps I shouldn't keep quiet.

She may start to hate me if I do it, too much.

"… The women… Came at different moments in my lifespan. The first one was a childhood friend, though I committed suicide before we truly got acquainted, and the other five… three were grim reapers and the other was… well, my Countess Claudia," I smiled, lightly, pausing for a moment before continuing, "and the males… I didn't care much for. It happened within the span of a week or two, at most. One after the other. I suppose you wouldn't understand –"

"A one night stand? I get it, but I'm probably just more emotionally attached then most. That's why I would never want to," she stated, simply, and I smiled meekly in reply. "… No need to be so sad, Undertaker."

"I'm not sad –"

"Then ashamed. Either way, I'm not mad about any of that. I was just curious," she smiled in such a sweet way that I couldn't stop myself, but smile back.

Still, this girl is just a human. Will age and die like the rest. I-I… shouldn't be growing so attached.

But the longer I stare into her eyes, I can see my dear Claudia staring back at me. Smiling just as widely, as brightly…

I-I'm not sure if I can stand all of this –

"Undertaker, so, ah, about the Phantomhives, when do you think we should head over? Maybe in July? We can plan ahead if we wait till then, right?" she asked in a thoughtful tone, and I chuckled to myself.

The way she jumps from one conversation to the next is strangely amusing. Maybe that's why I'm entranced by such a dearie? Because she reminds me of… well, me. My craziness. My inner insanity.

"July sounds delightful, my lady," I smiled, earning me another scoff and a 'I'm not a lady', comment, though I wonder why she picked such a month. I doubt she understands the 'social norms' of high society, let alone knowing it is the 'season', where nobles head into London just to socialize with one another.

In my opinion, it's a big waste of time, but humans tend to figure out elaborate ways to waste their own time. Their own short lifespans.

But then again, I'm not any better.

But as the girl shifted out of my bed, leaving with a lingering smile on her face, I couldn't help but wonder what her game actually is. As far as I understand, Phantomhives all play games. In one form or another. Is she toying with me?...

Or maybe she doesn't understand her own feelings?

Like a young adolescent child?

Well… she is one, isn't she? Yes, she is nineteen, but compared to a grim reaper… she'll be considered a child until she reaches the age of a hundred. So, in many ways, she is a child. Still.

But at least she's a happy child. No matter how terrible her life seemed to sound, she seems happy here… with me.

And that was enough to make me grin, slipping out of my bed and deciding to get this day started. It's a bit early, but why not? Who knows how long this girl will be around, anyways?

I will not think of the possibilities, but… it can happen so abruptly… and I don't want to lose her. Not this soon. This quickly.

! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !

"So… there's medicine in this?"

"Yes. You can try it out, but then I'll be out an inhaler canister," you chuckled lightly, a bit amused as you watched the Undertaker stare at the plastic contraption with keen interest. "… If it'll put your mind at ease, asthma, in my time, can be easily treatable. There's no cure, but at least there's an easy treatment. Sadly," you sighed, picking up your other inhaler and staring at the canister with a tired look on your face, "I can't exactly show this sort of stuff to the people in this era… and I have to get this made in the reaper realm.

"But as long as I don't stress myself out, I'm as right as rain," you chuckled, reaching for your inhaler in Undertaker's hands, and placing the plastic items back into your duffle bag. "… I kind of like this. I'm going to have to use this bag. It has a skull on it," you grinned before turning your attention back to Undertaker. "So, what's the plan for today? Do I have to dress up for a funeral?" you asked, and he sighed lightly in reply, smiling at your enthusiasm.

"Yes. The funeral of Baroness O'Conner, but you can stay here –"

"And miss a party? No way," you smirked, standing to your feet and sighing to yourself, "but that doesn't mean I like wearing that damn dress."

"You could always wear my~ clothes," he giggled, but you rolled your eyes, smirking at him as you made your way into your bedroom.

Unlike Undertaker, over the past few months you've accumulated various different types of clothes. Mrs. Hopkins was so sweet and nice, offering you new ideas and sketches every few weeks. But her daughter, Nina Hopkins, was a real riot. A true feminist, before feminism became a real thing. Now, you have two dresses with 'shorts' and rip away skirts, and two other pairs of clothes that were legit pants and shirts, but in a feminine design.

But you've learned to accept the fact you need to wear dresses and skirts all the time… even though you're still not a fan of the corset. Heck, if you can, you tend not to wear it in the first place. Even if it's a bit obvious when you're not wearing one. Not because it's too tight. They're not, but you don't like constricting your figure, like that. It's like wearing one of those stupid exercise belts around your waist, all the time, or a very tight bra. It honesty doesn't do much harm, but you know it won't be good for you, in the long run.

Whatever. Not like it matters too much, anyways.

Since Mrs. O'Conner was a noble, you had to wear something a tad nicer. Not that Undertaker actually cares, and you don't, but unlike a guy, a woman is judged a lot more harshly about their fashion then a man does. Either way, you had to wear the constricting corset, a lovely trimmed black and gray skirt, and black and gray upper top. Considering you're always amongst the dead, you always had to be 'mourning', but hey. You can dress in style, right?

Mrs. Hopkins truly is skilled in her craft.

After a few adjustments, and a brush to your hair, you tied your locks of hair up into a braided bun, before grabbing an accessory you know the Undertaker will enjoy. With a smirk, you clipped the tiny little top hat with a decently long black transparent veil onto your head, sticking it so the veil covered your right eye, your mostly covered part of your face, anyways.

You had Undertaker cut your hair, most days. It's not that you couldn't find a barber, but you didn't care about how your hair was cut. Just as long as your hair didn't grow out too long, you had your bangs adjusted, and you collected your hairs once it was over. Why? Well, for experiments, of course. But you know that last request would cause most to look at you with disgust, but hey. It's something you do. And in turn, you've got to trim Undertaker's bangs as well as his long hair, though he never really requests it.

Makes you wonder if you should trim his hairs or not, this week.

Letting your thoughts die away, you smirked to yourself, grabbing your fairly short delicate black gloves and slipping them onto your hands, placing the ends over your sleeves, before you made your way out of your bedroom into the kitchen, where you know Undertaker will be preparing a hearty breakfast. Of course, he was dressed in his mortician attire, from his long black robes to his long gray sash tied around his waist, and his prominent black top hat on top of his head. Though, your eyes turned to his belt, which looked rather expensive.

You've asked him about those before, and he simply told you they were mourning trinkets. Medallions, but he never did go into much detail about what they are –

"Gah! My little assistant, what are you wearing?!" you heard the Undertaker ask, a giggle leaving his breath as you snapped back into reality, and with a grin you poked the side of your pinned up tiny hat.

"Like it~? It was Nina's idea. She found a tiny little black hat and dressed it up."

"Nina is?..."

"Nina Hopkins. Mrs. Hopkins' daughter. An up and coming seamstress, like her mother. She's a lot more inventive into trying new styles. That's kind of why I've been given more clothes then necessary," you chuckled triumphantly before proudly making your way into the kitchen, sniffing in the delicious smells that caused you to start to salivate, slightly. "Smells delicious~. What is it?"

"Eggs, bacon, and toast. Nothing too strange," he snickered, causing you to giggle lightly.

"You sure~? Did you add something different?"

"Nope. Nothing much. Just some extra spices," he explained, glancing over and giving you a curious look before he smirked and went back to his task. "Care to set the table, my lady?"

"Sure," you responded automatically, walking about the room as you grabbed the necessary dishes and utensils, two white napkins to be used for your breakfast, and of course, a couple of placemats so the wooden table wouldn't become too dirty.

You couldn't help but notice, over the past few months, the way you've gone about your business has changed. Depending who wakes up first, usually Undertaker, the breakfast gets made, the table is set by the other, and the meals always seem a lot more… fancy. Tastier. As if there's some effort put into every single meal. Before, the food was bland. There wasn't much added, and heck. The most you'd ever do is heat up noodles and make mac and cheese, back in the future. Or eat ramen for weeks straight. Now, you have a strange set of recipes that you tweak every so often, when you get bored.

But the food is never dull. The company is always enjoyable. And… you cannot help but feel apricated for your efforts, content with this… living situation.

You sighed to yourself as you sat down at your spot at the table, but you were smiling lightly to yourself. Yes, you wouldn't trade this sort of life for another…

But then why do you feel so… lost? You're at peace now. Content with this life. So… why?

Isn't this life enough for you?