A lone vintage hearse painted in a metallic bronze left the docks. It's driver, a mortician with a smile that screamed insane. With him, a boy, fast asleep in the passenger seat, unaware that his face was pressed against the window in a rather uncompromising way. In the far back, the dark brown suede curtains, with soft gold leaf patterns, were drawn shut, hiding the coffin with a most precious cargo. Thank god this coffin was blank, the Undertaker thought. He would not think to let so much as a drop of blood ruin his lovely creations. No, better to clean poor Sebastian Michaelis up before letting him take rest.
As for the mess in the cargo hold? Blood and feathers everywhere. It was too much for one retired reaper to handle alongside his two passengers. So, as they left, a little fire he had started steadily grew from the inside. The couldn't even come at him about it because they didn't know where he lived. What a wonderful circumstance.
Looking over to the sleeping demon as he drove, he couldn't help the little smile that appeared. Who'd have thought he'd get to see the little lord like this. Stranded on a ship again. He'd have to feed him something better than dog biscuits this time. Then again, he wasn't even sure his guest even ate food any more. Nevertheless, he was shaking the slate haired male awake moments later, having pulled in behind his shop.
Ciel blinked himself awake as he felt the other's hand shaking him gently. When he came to focus, he realized they were inside a garage of sorts.
"Come on. We should put your butler to rest before resting ourselves." The Undertaker said, before climbing out of the car, not hesitating at all before going to the back and opening it. Ciel snapped to it immediately. He didn't want to be useless. After all, the Shinigami was taking him in after all. Together they lifted the coffin out of the back and began to carry it inside. He couldn't help noticing how light it was, like there was nothing at all inside. Blinking, he turned to ask the Undertaker if it was possible Sebastian was alive and had gotten out somehow, but this small moment unfocused his feet and he tripped on the threshold of the door leading into the back of the shop. The young demon tumbled with the coffin onto the ground with the coffin, the lid slipping open.
Ciel groaned, attempting to pick himself up when he froze, staring straight into the face of Sebastian, eyes closed and completely lifeless. Someone made a noise of irritation, the Undertaker, and the next minute, Ciel was being hoisted up by his hair and pinned back against the wall. "He died for your sake! The dead deserve respect!" the old reaper growled before dropping the boy, turning back to the dead man and giving up on the coffin, hoisted his body up completely, carrying him over to a metal table, laying him out with little hassle. Ciel supposed, if the coffin had been that light, then Sebastian must have weighed nothing to the other.
Somewhat shaken, Ciel just stood back, watching the silver haired male work, cutting away bloody clothes to reveal much bloodier skin and torn tissue. Ciel was oddly reminded of the time that Sebastian had played dead when his manor had become the playing field for some murder mystery. Even if in the end they never caught the real killer, at least they framed the one they'd aimed for. But now… Ciel wanted to catch the killer. Which was absurd. Because he was utterly terrified to do so. He'd outlived his human life years ago, but even so, he did not desire death.
"Come and help."
Ciel blinked and looked up at the other's words, before nodding quietly and approaching him, taking the wet clothe that was offered to him and starting to clean away the blood that soaked his butler. Sebastian. They worked in Silence, and before Ciel's very eyes, The Undertaker had transformed him back, dressing him in his old coattails and tie, even pinning the Phantomhive crest to his coat collar, that old pocket watch following it.
"He looks like he's sleeping." Ciel pointed out, though he supposed that death was just another kind of sleep. There was no reply from the Undertaker, who had no doubt, gone to fetch a spare coffin. Ciel had no idea how to thank him for this. The fact that a demon be treated this way in death, was well laughable to some, but to Ciel it was touching. He had no idea why the Undertaker would be doing this though. Maybe for the simple reason that he'd known them years before. Then again, he had tried to kill Sebastian back during that cruise liner incident. Ciel just could understand what was going on.
Moments later, a door opened and the Undertaker reappeared, pulling along a wheeled stand with a coffin on it. But not just any coffin. This coffin was completely white, glossed enough that Ciel could see a perfect reflection of himself in the coating. The edges were embossed in silver just as highly polished, if not better, and atop the lid, ingrained into it in the same silver as the trimmings, was Sebastian's mark. Every last detail, and even parts that would not have been on the mark on the demon's hand, or his master's eye. The complete seal.
"… You… knew?" Ciel asked, quite suddenly wary. Reapers were quite capable of killing demons. Maybe it had been the Undertaker after all.
But the silver haired man shook his head and chuckled. "No. I have merely been preparing for this for a long time." He said, Ciel confused as hell as the retired reaper opened the coffin. The inside was lined with black silk, a stark contrast to the white and silver exterior, and around the cushion for the head, was a wreath of scarlet roses.
As he went to move the body into the grand encasing, Ciel instinctively went to help, feeling bad that he kept standing by with a dumb expression on his face as he watched the rest of the world continue to work. But before the Undertaker could close the lid, the boy stopped him with a slight frown and leant over the edge of the coffin, having to stand on the points of his toes, pressing an innocent kiss to the butler's cheek. "Thankyou… Sebastian."
The lid soon hid that pallid white face from view, and once more, the coffin was been wheeled along by it's maker, but not to the hearse, or outside for some backyard burial. No, Ciel followed as the reaper wheeled it along a dimly lit corridor, to an old mining type lift.
As it slowly made it's way down lord knows how far into the Earth, the Undertaker eyed the boy with a sense of curiousness before asking, "You were… intimate with him?"
A bright red blush filled the once upon a time earl's cheeks and he nodded solemnly. He wasn't a child anymore, despite his appearance. He had still grown and aged in maturity. Unfortunately, his body remained that of a thirteen year old. However, technically, he was around fifty to sixty years old when he and Sebastian had first done anything, holed up in some attic during the second world war.
The reaper chuckled, but not in an overly amused way, or a mocking way, a mere, sense of understanding in it. "I see… It must have been extra difficult for you then." He pointed out, his hand resting atop the coffin to keep it steady. This lift wasn't exactly the smoothest ride, but it was sturdy and did the job.
"No…" Ciel said softly, frowning as he thought about it. It might have been easy had the one responsible been merciful, and ended the life of his demon then and there. But… no. Ciel had dragged his wounded butler to a wall for him to sit against as he writhed in pain and agony for days. He'd been waiting for him to heal as he usually did, but… he didn't. On the last morning of their journey in the cargo hold, he'd awoken. And Sebastian had not. No matter what Ciel did, he could not wake him. He'd been too stressed to even think of what to do when this reaper had come along.
The lift finally came to a halt, the Undertaker opened the gate, and began to wheel the coffin along a small type path. Ciel followed, expecting some kind of dungeon thing. Instead his eyes were greeted with one of the most beautiful things he'd seen. It was a large cavern with a pool of black mirror like water in a horse shoe shape, the path leading to the inside of this shape where there was a form that could almost very well be an altar of sorts. The walls had some sort of substance glowing in greens and pinks, and from the roof, hung something like vines, pulsing softly with blue light, all of this reflected hundreds of times into the water below. What was this place? He stood, mouth agape as the Undertaker continued on as normal. He wheeled the coffin along to the altar where he began to transfer it from the stainless steel trolley, to the old stone with care and precision, like he'd rehearsed it.
And once he was done, he made his way silently back to the lift, trolley in tow. Ciel had enough sense to follow, not wanting to be stranded down here, despite it's beauty. Inside the lift, his eyes stayed on that white coffin, reflecting all the lights, until it was out of sight. And then, for a time, there was yet more silence. The ride up, seemed much slower, than the ride down, and there was an air of sorrow, but not Ciel's sorrow. The boy looked up, and sure enough, there was a single tear running down the reaper's cheek. Biting his bottom lip, he thought it might be better to remain silent, but… it, was too much not too ask.
"What did Sebastian mean to you?" He asked. The Undertaker blinked, like he had been spacing out, looking at his companion before sighing softly. There were no smiles or laughter here today. And yet, as much as he said how dull the world would be about it, there was nothing dull about this day.
/
It was raining, again. Which meant it was more time indoors. And it didn't bother the reaper in training one bit. Running a hand through his short silver hair, he watched the rain against the large window, his eyes following the drops from the where they landed, until they hit the sill. His glasses sat away, on his desk. He didn't like wearing them, and he often got in trouble for forgetting them. No matter how many times he told them that he didn't need them, everyone insisted that he really did, and that he should stop being stubborn because all reapers wore glasses. It didn't help with his hair colour. No matter how much he tried to keep it a normal style, he stood out from the crowd. On sunny days especially, as under the sunlight, it was somewhat white.
Nothing he could do about it anyway. He didn't have time to worry about it. Not today anyhow. Today he was being assigned his 3 month exam. 3 months in the human world, watching and following a human until they died, and then they would reap them, return, and graduate. Simple. Unless you had the lowest marks of the class. Then it was not simple. Even if they hadn't told him yet, he knew he was already being assigned with the highest ranked in their year, in the hopes that he might learn a thing or two from 'watching them work'. In other words, he wasn't even being trusted with a training scythe.
So it was a complete and total waste of his time. He knew he'd have to repeat anyway.
So that's how the day went. He went straight to the office, was scolded for forgetting his glasses, assigned his soul and partner, and then told to prepare and leave. Bloody wonderful. Ah well… Off to Pompeii it was, AD61.