Slowly your eyelids began to open… only to shut them and groan tiredly to yourself.
Geeze… why do you feel so drained!?... Until you remembered what happened… with those blasted demons and the poor human boy…
Ah, right. The boy.
Your eyelids blinked as you slowly began to look around the room, realizing… this isn't your bedroom. Undertaker's?
Speaking of the reaper, you could hear the door opening and your head weakly moved to the side to notice a darkened figure walking in, only to step a tad quicker into the room the moment he saw your eyes staring right at him. "Clara! Thank goodness you have awoken."
"Of course… why wouldn't I?" you scoffed in annoyance, and as you heard the man sigh in slight relief you scoffed, once more. "What?... Can you tell me what happened?"
"You mean you don't remember~?" he teased you, but you simply huffed in response.
"I remember. The demons, the boy. I want to know… the boy. How long have I been out?" you asked in a slightly hesitant tone, and he gave you a relieved smile before he calmly walked over to your bedside, grabbing a nearby chair and calmly sitting down upon it.
"Five days."
"… Five? Only five?... Good, I suppose," you mumbled, grumbling as you suddenly felt his hand upon your head, rustling up your hair while you cast him a slightly irritated look. "… The boy?"
"Breathing. He woke up four days ago, but he hasn't left your bed, yet. Too weak. As for the investigation," Undertaker continued, probably knowing that you were going to ask, "I told the dear earl where he could find the bodies, and to return in a few days to talk to you, if you needed to tell him anything else.
"Is there anything else the boy needs to know?" Undertaker asked, and you could tell he was both curious and concerned, but all you could do is sigh tiredly, slowly curling up into the warm covers and burying the side of your face into the warm, strangely fluffy pillow.
"Hmm… Not him. We found the culprits. I got rid of them… However, there is something I'd like to tell you, pertaining to all of this," you decided to say, managing to worm one of your arms free from your side, and you reached out your hand, feeling the man's hand placed upon your own, and you slowly grasped the man's hand, staring at his long black nails with a concerned look on your face. "… Apparently… whatever happened, in the future… Time reversed itself, meaning many creatures know that the end of days is upon us… and, irritatingly, a bunch of assholes I've killed over the years are now back from the grave.
"I don't know if I should be glad that they fear me enough to not bother me, or irritated that they just couldn't stay dead," you scoffed in disgust, but upon hearing Undertaker's slight giggling you couldn't stop yourself from sighing, tiredly. "… Did you know that, Undertaker?"
"Reapers do not get to experience such a thing. I'm assuming what happened was several strong entities recall what had happened… and perhaps the reaper council also recalls what they've done," he scoffed in disgust, but you pulled him back to you as you gripped his hand, just a tad tighter this time, and brought your hand closer into the warm sheets.
"I know… about a death bookmark. Something higher ups can use, if necessary, but nothing can erase existence… so, I-I don't really know what happened, honestly," you decided to say, hearing the man sigh deeply to himself, and his unenthusiastic nature caused you to turn to look up at him, but you only managed to notice his chest before you gave up, not bothering to roll in the bed to change your comfortable position. "… Undertaker?"
"Yes?"
"… Lord Baalza, one of the seven rulers of hell, is to blame, for this," you decided to say, and you gripped his hand tightly while you let out an irritable scoff. "God, damn it. I killed that bastard. Why can't devils just stay dead?"
"You took down a ruler of the underworld?" you heard Undertaker ask in a curious tone, but you simply scoffed in response.
"Of course. I'm a Phantomhive~. Living in the underworld and getting rid of the disgusting dirt and grime of society is something I do." Upon hearing your response, you could hear Undertaker laughing at you, enough to almost let go of your hand, but instead he leaned over you, giggling outright at your words, and all you could do is sigh tiredly. "… You're giving me a bloody headache. Stop."
"Aiigh! Haihihihihi!... S-sorry," he snickered into his free hand, wiping stray tears while you groaned lowly. Too tired to argue with him.
"… I'm just so pissed. I really hated that one. He, it, whatever, is such a glutton… He's the damn devil responsible for my torment, actually," you told him, your hand gripping the man's tightly as you let out a shaky breath. "That boy… I-I couldn't leave him, like that."
"… It reminded you of your own troubles," you heard Undertaker say, and you meekly nodded your head. You could hear the man sigh to himself, but you decided to continue to talk.
If only for a few more moments. You just wanted his company, by your side, like this.
"Unlike the boy, I didn't have a savior… Those bastards like my blood because it's so rare… p-plus, the whole connection to the supernatural, already… You should have seen how angry I used to be," you snorted, your hand slipping out of his own as you turned in the bed, finally looking up at the man as you gave him a meek smirk. "I knew revenge meant nothing… but, hey, if I can do it then why not? I spent so much time training to take down, well, gods… It's strange… how easily they can fall," you decided to say, a thoughtful look crossing your face until you felt a hand upon your cheek. You glanced over at the man, flinching as his hand brushed some of your hairs from your face, and tickled the side of your eye, while you blinked in curiosity as the soft grin adoring his face. "… Undertaker? What are you thinking?"
"Hmm~… It's just… seeing you on that night… I don't know if I should be concerned… or angry… or simply sad," he told you, and slowly you began to sit up in the bed, only to regret your decision as you felt the world was spinning, and you put a hand upon your head to steady yourself. Outright groaning in pain. "Now, now, don't push yourself –"
"I'm fine… Something sugary and some water would be great, right now," you grumbled, and you barely noticed the man leaving your side, instantly leaving, before you could open up an eyelid to notice that his chair was vacant.
You sighed, deeply, closing your eyes tightly in an attempt to stop the world from spinning. But, after you resituated the pillows so they were placed right behind your back and head, you leaned into the wall, letting out a calm sigh, before you noticed Undertaker coming back into the room, with a tray of goodies in his hands. "Thank you," you smiled lightly, accepting the water and taking some careful sips, making sure you weren't gulping the water too quickly, before you accepted the cookies that, apparently, were made for you. "… Did you make these?"
"The boy and his butler helped me," Undertaker smirked, before his smile faded, just a tad. "According to the butler, it seemed to him that you needed sugar after giving your blood. So, the earl suggested on some sweets. Thus, we made cookies."
"Oh… could use some chocolate," you smirked at him, munching on the cookie in your hand rather greedily, and not exactly caring if it was tasty or not. Or the fact that it was almost as hard as a rock, but strangely, not burnt. No, what you wanted was the sugar, and you greedily ate through three cookies before pausing, thinking to yourself before you looked back at him. "So… what made you worried about me? D-do you not like the fact that I'm a reaper? I mean… that's half of what I am. I can't exactly change that," you decided to say, but he quickly shook his head.
"Oh, no. That's not it," he chuckled nervously, in such a tone that made you worried, and as he noticed your concerned face he smiled, patting the top of your head and rustling up your, still, matted and untamed black, slightly dark blue hair. "… Remember how I told you that I suspected the council wanted to turn you children into containers for Death?" he spoke, and while his phrasing was a bit odd, you gave him a slight nod of your head, taking another cookie from the tray, as he continued in a tone that you knew meant that he was being absolutely serious.
And concerned, as well.
"While seeing you take out those demons with such ease was amusing, even awe inspiring, the way you did it… easily cutting the creatures down until there was nothing left of them, destroying them. Did you know that was what you were doing? When you cut your records up, like that?" he asked, and you paused, half way through eating the cookie, to sigh at his questions.
"Yes, in fact. That was my intention. I was told that demons come back, when you cut them down. Destroy their bodies. When you destroy both the body and soul, you rid them, entirely… I know that's a horrible thing to do, in hindsight, but to get rid of a devil… an angel. The same sort of thing is necessary. Besides," you scoffed, "the souls of the damned are trapped within the demon until you destroy one. I've heard their shrieks, before. The human souls finally escaping from their binds to the hungry demon. At first, it was frightening, but now… happily satisfying," you stated, giving him a content smirk, only for your smile to wean at the unwavering line on his face. "… Undertaker? What? Did you not like that I said that?"
"No. In fact, I'm delighted you see things that way," he smirked, just slightly, but his smile faded away as quickly as it appeared. "… I shouldn't… have let you regain your powers, Clara –"
"What? Are you going say the same damn things everyone else has?" you scoffed in disgust, and you watched as he flinched slightly at your snappy tone of voice, but you didn't care. Well, you do care, but you didn't care to be kind about this. "I need to stay human? Look, I told you. If you cannot accept me as a reaper, as well as a human, then maybe we have a problem here –"
"No, please… don't start," he sighed, reaching for your hand and grasping it with his own two hands, and you watched with a curious gaze as he brought your hand up to your face, gripping your hand rather tightly as he gave three of your knuckles a soft, yet lingering kiss. You couldn't help but blush, slightly, at his action, which still felt rather odd, but you let the man be. "… I do not care, Clara. I care about you. You… What worries me," he continued, slowly opening his eyes to look past your hand and at your confused, tired looking face, "is… Death doesn't see things that way.
"I'm right to worry, you see. I could see… by the way you fought, the way you held your own. Even your chosen death scythe, being an actual scythe… and your methods. Your energy, while not quite reaper like, was still strong and powerful… With a little bit of grooming from Death itself, when you die as a human… you could end up becoming its vessel," he scoffed in disgust, his eyes lingering on your hand before his grip began to loosen, and he slowly began to lower your hand, placing it upon his lap while he kept your hand in place with his own hands. "That… isn't a life I want for you."
"Why? Does it matter? And how do you even know about such a thing? –"
"Trust me. I know, more then I wish to," he stated, simply, causing you to pause, but noticing your critical stare he smiled, lightly, gently placing your hand back by your side before he sighed to himself. "… Sorry. I understand if you wish to make your own choices, but if Death enters you, then you won't be able to do so. It will dictate everything you do, every movement, every word. You'll become a mere puppet… and by the time you come to your senses… everything you ever knew and love will be lost to you."
"U-undertaker," you couldn't help but say, unable to stop your mind from wandering to the worst possible conclusion. "… I-is that why you're called… Death?" you had to ask, looking at him with a worried, and even, frightened look on your face.
And all he could do is close his eyes and sigh, simply.
"Undertaker," you called, feeling tears slowly streaming down your face at the realization. You could tell your tears were confusing him as he opened his eyes to look at you, only to feel his own hand leaving his side, as you brought his hand to your forehead and began to sniffle. "I'm so, so, so sorry."
"Don't be. This isn't your fault –"
"I don't care if it is or isn't my fault… So, then… everything that I was born to do, up until now… was to groom me into becoming Death, huh?" you couldn't help say, and all you could hear is a tired sigh from the man. "… It's… like what I told Vincent," you decided to tell him, causing the man to look over at you as you continued meekly. "The apocalypse happens… because the four horsemen of the apocalypse arrive. Are you so hard of hearing to not realize I already knew that? About… personifying Death in such a way?
"I'm associated with Famine," you decided to say, slowly taking the man's hand from your face as you looked at him, looking to see if he were to change his reaction in any sort of way. "And David… Conquest. The first one. The other two… I-I don't know, but because David was born, the world turned to shit… The poor kid continues to think this was all his fault… when, in actuality, it's the damn council," you scoffed in disgust, but as you heard Undertaker sigh deeply to himself, you couldn't stop the pout that appeared on your face. "… What?"
"This brainwashing… I'm sick of it. I truly am," he huffed, but you gave him a light smile in response.
"H-hey. I mean, it's not like I thought that way, at first… So, is that all? You just hate the fact I'm so in tuned to my deadly~ side?" you decided to ask, causing the man to look you over, if only for a moment, before he smirked at your playfulness.
"Absolutely not~. In fact," he grinned, suddenly leaning in close to your face, and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning away, blushing brightly at the predatory look upon his face, and the bright gleaming green glow from his deadly eyes, "I was entranced~ from watching you destroy~~ those disgusting, vile pests."
"O-oh," you couldn't stop yourself from saying in response, and you simply blushed more at the giggle that began to leave his breath, his hot breath tickling the side of your nose. "N-not funny!"
"Yes, funny," he giggled, only to stop completely as you leaned forward and suddenly kissed him, gently, upon the lips.
The two of you stayed that way, you feeling awkward for kissing the man, so suddenly, and he, surprised that you suddenly silenced him.
But… slowly, you leaned away, giving the man an unsure look before you turned your head, blushing madly from embarrassment. "Ah… I-I'm okay, Undertaker. Could you let me get back to sleep? I still have a terrible headache."
"Of course," he responded, leaving the plate of cookies while taking the tray with him, and the two of you left each other in silence.
More out of embarrassment, but whatever.
The moment he left into the hallway, you put your head in your hands, groaning lowly at what just happened. But… you don't exactly regret it.
It just… you were so happy he enjoyed your performance…
But then again…
You cannot help but suddenly feel curious. You barely got to see a glimpse of the man's weapon before it disappeared from his hands, but you could tell it was a scythe. A long, silver scythe… Just how strong is he? Seriously?
You couldn't stop your blush from creeping up your face, and you groaned, slumping into the bed in an attempt to get back to sleep.
! #$%^&*())(*&^%$# !
"Damn," you grumbled underneath your breath as you looked into the boy's mouth, making sure nothing else was damaged about his poor little face.
Honestly, you couldn't believe they had the balls to do this… but they did. The poor boy's tongue had been cut clean off, but at least it was mainly clean. Not too jagged, and it healed itself without too much extra work. Still… you couldn't help but be empathetic towards the boy. Who even does that? Cut out someone's tongue like that?... Unless this boy actually contracted himself to one of those said demons, had his tongue branded, and tried to cut it off to end the contract…
Now, if you think of it that way, it's plausible, but you decided to not look into this too much.
After all, you're not supposed to know about the supernatural, right? And your priority should be this little boy, right now.
"Well, looks to me that everything is healing nicely," you told him, letting the boy close his mouth as you reached for a glass filled with water, mixed with some crushed up herbs into a tasty tea, but it was your own special little concoction… just to help with the pain. "… Boy, I have a question," you decided to say, watching as he looked at you with his bright blue eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was picked just because of his eyes. "I haven't brought this topic up, yet, but… since you cannot speak," you spoke, watching as his eyes fell, but you continued, "let me ask, do you know how to write, at least? So we can communicate with you? Because our conversations, while very~ lively, have been one sided," you told him, and you watched as he gave you a meek nod, sighing to himself, and you smiled lightly. "Do you? Really?"
When he nodded his head again, you smiled in delight. "Great. I'll go get some paper and something to write with, and then I can ask you some questions, okay?" you asked, watching as he nodded his head, yet again, and then you left to gather a blank notepad, which you plan on handing to the boy, and a sharpened pencil.
But, before you went back into your bedroom, you noticed Undertaker was in the kitchen, causing you to pause. "… Hello?"
"Hello love," he smirked at you, before he turned back to his cooking. "Just making supper."
"Oh. Okay –"
"And the earl will be arriving in a few hours. We shouldn't be expecting anyone for a while," he told you, and you paused before you gave him a light smile.
"Okay. Thanks for the update," you stated, leaving the man to his task as you went back into your bedroom, items in hand. "Alright," you began, handing the boy the two items and watching as he stared at the items, as if they were his lifeline to the outside world, and you plopped yourself back onto the edge of the bed. "So… let's start. If you could, what is your name? Calling you 'boy' all the time isn't very fun," you chuckled lightly, watching as the boy gave you a slight nod before he began to write. He wrote slowly, but legibly, and you couldn't help but admire his cursive.
Compared to you, he's a damn expert! And how old is he? Probably only eight… or maybe nine years old. You watched as he scribbled a name upon the paper… which, kind of confused you, but you slowly sounded out the name. "Branden… O' Moore. Of Mourne? Is that right?" you asked, watching as the boy looked up to give you a nod, and then began to write some more. You saw the words 'Baron Carrig O' Moore' and 'Bridget O' Moore', and you gave the boy a curious look in return, watching as his scribbling came to a stop as he set the notepad on his lap and looked up at you, giving you his full attention. "Hmm… well, I'm not an expert on the aristocracy, but I know an earl that could be helpful," you told the boy, patting the top of his head and rustling up his soft dirty blonde hair, while you smiled lightly at him, "and we'll find your relatives. Okay?"
Once he gave you a nod, you chuckled lightly, before you slowly stood up and let out a tired sigh. "Well, you can have the notepad and the pencil. We'll have supper in a few more moments. I'm going to go help out Undertaker," you told the boy, leaving him in your room as you made your way down the hallway, with a thoughtful look on your face as you slumped down into one of the dining chairs and let out a tired sigh.
"Something on your mind, love?" you heard Undertaker ask, and you gave him a slight glance before you pouted to yourself and your eyes began to wander away, towards the gritty walls and brick work. A hum leaving your breath as you tapped your finger on top of the wooden table.
"Branden O'Moore, from a place called Mourne. His father is a baron, apparently," you spoke, noticing the man's head turning slightly at your words, until you let out a tired sigh. "… Undertaker?"
"Yes love?" you heard the man ask, and you pouted to yourself, your tapping stopping for a moment, only for you to sit up in the chair and let a huff leave your breath.
"Nothing. Never mind. It wasn't very important –"
"Come now. Now I need~ to know what you're thinking," he chuckled, now turning away from the meal he was cooking to watch you as you squirmed in your seat, feeling strangely uncomfortable, but mainly over the fact that you're going to have to tell him what you're thinking about.
"… Okay," you mumbled, slowly turning to acknowledge him as you continued, meekly. "What if… that boy's family abandons him because he lost his ability to speak? Could it be possible… if we keep him?" you decided to ask, watching as the man's gaze turned from curiosity to bewilderment, but you quickly shook your head and sighed to yourself. "Never mind. S-sorry. I-I doubt that'd happen. I'm sure his family is worried about the poor boy –"
"I wouldn't mind another little child running around the shop," he began, pausing for a moment before continuing in a thoughtful tone, "but why do you ask, love?"
"I-it's just… orphanages are terrible. At least, that's my experience," you decided to say, "and… I-I mean… it's been a while since I actually cared about a kid," you told him, glancing away from him as you stared at a rather morbid picture that was placed upon the wall, off to the side of the stairs that led up onto the top floor.
You couldn't help but pout at the silence that settled upon the two of you, and eventually the man sighed, deeply, making sure his food wasn't burning before he leaned against the counter and tilted his head to the side. "You are a strange human, my dear," you heard Undertaker say, causing you to turn to look at him, staring at him with a puzzled expression, as he continued somberly. "You put yourself in harm's way for the sake of others… It… confuses me, if I'm going to be honest. Don't you know how worried I was, that night? I thought I was going to lose you," he told you, watching your expression as you looked at him with uncertainty, but then he graced you with a content smile. "You're a sweet dearie. Much different to the Phantomhives I've encountered."
"Well… you have to find hope in something, I suppose. A will to keep going," you told him, but slowly you began to stand to your feet, wandering into the kitchen space to stand in front of him. "Or perhaps, you think I'm odd because you don't see how I'm a Phantomhive, huh," you stated, pausing before you sighed tiredly to yourself, closing your eyes before you began to glance away and stare at the long kitchen countertop. "… I think what's important here is that you can push yourself up and keep moving forward. If you can't even do that, then what's the point of continuing onward? This entire time… the thoughts of suicide have lingered in my mind, the moment my mother died. But, what keeps me going is the thought that, perhaps, if I save someone else… that's enough," you told him, giving him a meek smile before you began to walk away. "And don't think of me as helpless. I'm not. Trust me."
"And if I cannot trust you?" you heard him ask, and you slowly turned your head, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously as you continued.
"Well then… then I suppose that means I'm going to have to leave here. How can we have any sort of relationship if we cannot trust one another?" you told him, calmly leaving the kitchen and walking back into the hallway, back towards your room while you let a slightly tired look overcome the features of your face.
Honestly, you haven't recovered in the slightest. Reawakening your powers, using the dark aura of your ring to make your fight a bit easier, and using your own blood to reanimate the boy was still taking its toll on you. Too much stress, and you're sure you'll be bedridden, again… and you don't want to stay in bed for too long. Plus, you're sure that Undertaker will force you into bed if he noticed just how drained you really are. But…
There's still work to be done. At the very least, you need to explain the situation to Vincent, and then move on from there.
Do what, exactly?
… Even you're not sure. You're not sure if you should pursue these demons, perhaps attempt to take down that lord, again. Heck, you're not even sure if you've unlocked everything or not. You're going to have to start training, again. Retraining your mind and body, so you won't feel like fainting every single time you're in a small scrimmage. Regardless if Undertaker wants you to train or not, you're still going to do so.
Hmm… should you even bother asking him if there's a spot to train, in secret, in this human place… or maybe you should just find your own place?
Who… knows…
But if Undertaker can't trust you to keep yourself alive, then how can you trust him, anymore?
This is becoming a real mess. That's for sure.