Snake's ears did not register the sound of the brush bristles grinding against the tiled floor; his thoughts were too loud, increasing in volume as the seconds flew by.

If you don't finish by the time the sun rises, Mey-Rin will surely see them when she'll sweep the stairs.

Or maybe Bard will, when he'll head to the kitchen.

Finny probably won't realize what they are.

No, he will.

Don't forget to check for blood puddles outside.

The other servants had gone back to sleep, oblivious to the numerous dark red pools around the manor—although Snake couldn't blame them. If he hadn't nearly slipped while climbing the stairs, he would never have discovered the splatters of blood. The manor was devoid of light at night, save for the moonlight streaming in through the windows (which, in the end, was of little help).

Determined to rid the floors and carpets of any crimson substance, Snake scrubbed, pausing only to brush the hair out of his eyes. His hand froze as it neared his nose, and slowly, it returned to its previous position.

Snake bit his lip.

He knew that no matter how hard he would try to remove the stench from them, his hands would definitely reek of soap and blood in the morning.

At least nobody would see his master's spilt blood, much less suspect him of suicidal actions.

Books were removed from their shelves, forced to join the others that were already on the floor. Piles grew large and abundant, though Ciel paid them no mind. His attention was focused elsewhere—the shelves that still needed to be emptied. There weren't many (he had been in the library for almost an hour, and he had worked fast), but he wanted to hurry.

He was certain that there wasn't much time left before his servants would wake.

Something grazed the tips of his fingers, and, Ciel noted, it didn't feel like it belonged to a book. It was too far back on the shelf to be one anyway.
Sliding away some of the volumes, Ciel clenched his fist around the locket (he assumed it was one, for when he ran his thumb over it he could feel its chain and the pendants it held) and pulled it out.

It took him a moment to recognize it, though he still turned it around in his fingers, looking for the loopy handwriting. As he read all of the unfamiliar names on each pendant's back, he sighed. It wasn't his locket.

But he had skimmed through the names, unaware that he had missed the most important one. Backtracking, he started reading again, slowly, until he reached the name.

Claudia Phantomhive.

It was his locket after all.

Undertaker's.

No matter how thin this thread is, I will grasp it.

And no matter how untrustworthy it is, I will believe that it won't let me fall again.

The kitchen pipes groaned as water spewed out of the tap, encountering Snake's hands before tumbling through the drain. In the dark he scrubbed, desperate to obliterate the smell.

Yet he found it kind of funny that just a few hours ago he had been scrubbing the floor (trying to remove any traces of blood), and now he was scrubbing his hands (attempting—in vain—to rid his hands of the miasma).

He smiled.

Well, one of his endeavors was successful.

"Snake?"

Snake jumped, his tongue sliding in between his teeth just as they bore down. He didn't even register the sound that escaped his mouth as he scrunched his face up and closed his eyes. Then, as the pain started to subside, he let out a breath. Thankfully, he didn't taste any blood, but his tongue still throbbed in his mouth, begging for a cold towel.

"Snake? Did I frighten you?" His reaction seemed to have startled him too—Snake could tell by his tone of voice. He turned around, only to confirm his suspicion.

Ciel stood in the middle of the kitchen, an object (Snake wasn't close enough to make out any details, but he thought it looked like a necklace) clutched tightly in his hand.

"Um…no, not really. You just surprised me, that's all. I thought you were still asleep, Smile." Although he found it slightly difficult (and painful) to speak, Snake's tongue had stopped throbbing with its previous intensity.

"I woke up about an hour ago, and could not return to sleep. However, I find that I'm feeling quite rested and, I must admit, somewhat hungry." Ciel looked at Snake expectantly, waiting for him to take the hint.

"Shall I," Snake paused, contemplating all the available options, deciding to go with A, "go wake up Bard then?"

"No. The kitchen would most likely be in flames (if not already burned down) before Bardroy would manage to cook something edible." Snake stared at him for a second before his face fell.

"So you want me to cook something for you?"

Ciel smirked, nodding his head. "Yes, actually, though I don't expect you to prepare something too sophisticated. A French omelet will suffice." Perhaps Snake wouldn't have been so worried about making an omelet if he knew what it was or how to cook it, but he nevertheless agreed.

Not that he had a choice. He was the servant, and if his master demanded something of him, then he would obey.

"There should be a cook book with the recipe for it in one of the drawers. Oh, and after you carry out your task you may bring the omelet to the dining room. I will be waiting," he said, before leaving Snake alone in the kitchen.

Why were his snakes not awake yet?

The racket from last night must have woken them up, so at least one of them had to be nearby.

Oh no.

If they were already awake when Ciel had come into his room, and if they had been spying on him…

It had to be Emily's idea; she must have convinced all the others to avoid him all day. Snake could only imagine what fun she and Wordsworth were having, laughing at him when he was fretting over what they called trivial things.

The omelet, as his master had called it, started to take on an inviting air (as a result of the footman following the instructions), yet Snake's anger refused to taper off.

Walking to the dining room with the completed dish, Snake created a litany of all the things he would deprive Emily of. She'd figure out a way to avoid being punished, though. She always thought of everything.

As he waited for Ciel to finish eating so he could dispose of the plate and cutlery, Snake quietly hummed, thinking of how he'd tell Emily how much he 'enjoyed' her little prank—with a calm demeanor nonetheless. Maybe then she would feel a little remorse.

"I wish to form a contract with you." Ciel had sat back in his chair, legs crossed and eyes trained on his footman. The contract mark on his right eye was glowing, albeit faintly.

Still valid, Snake thought.

Which meant that his master probably hadn't seen it yet (and he would make sure to tell him, when he deemed it necessary).

"A contract?"

"Yes, a contract. Aren't you demons supposed to want to form one?"

Snake should've seen that coming. Why had he even brought up the subject of contracts last night?

"Well, I'm not a demon."

"…Oh."

Snake felt the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Demons aren't the only creatures that can make contracts with humans, Smile."

Ciel cleared his throat, letting out a soft "I see".

"Why would you want to make a contract, though? And with me, of all people."

Ciel scoffed, regaining his aplomb.

"You are the closest thing I have to a demon, and I need your cooperation in order to find someone. He goes by the name Undertaker, and he's a grim reaper."

Frowning, Snake walked closer to the table.

"He's the one that sunk the Campania, isn't he? Why would you want to find him?"

He watched as Ciel took a deep breath, running his hands over the object Snake previously thought was a necklace.

"I…am convinced that he's my grandfather."

"Ah."

"Will you assist me in my quest?"

His master was confident in his conviction, and that was all he needed to know.

"Fine. I'll help you," he said. Realizing something, he added, "I know that you would have ordered me to help you anyway, even if I would have refused."

"I wanted to give you a choice."

"Even though you made that choice for me?"

"Games can be won in many ways, Snake. Sometimes the outcome is decided right from the start. Sometimes it's not, so you have to decide the result yourself, or let others do it for you."