Author's Notes: I blame another boring commute for this one.
Omake: Risei's Replacement
The Kotomine church was peaceful in the late evening. The sun painted the stucco walls a rather gentle orange. Easy on the eyes. The pews' creaking was the only other sound to mar the silence. If I listened closely enough, I could almost hear the blood flowing in my ears.
Any moment now, the War's new supervisor would arrive.
And I would be here greet him or her. Whoever it was. It was only polite.
Rin sat beside me. She'd stayed up two days, running through rehearsal after rehearsal for her summoning. The bow around her school uniform had come undone. Her vest and skirt were rumpled.
Now, Rin slept on my shoulder. She'd drifted off about an hour ago. Every so often, she squirmed a little and pawed at my sleeve in her sleep, like a kitten testing a scratching post.
The door opened with a clunk!
Rin's eyes opened.
"Mrmulph?" said Rin.
A woman stood in the vestibule.
The new supervisor of Heaven's Feel wore a long, bluish-grayish dress with a white collar that looked more like Puritan neckwear than anything. And boots. Combat boots. I couldn't see socks, either.
The woman froze when she saw us.
"Oh, no…" she said.
"Ciel?" Rin said.
"No. No, no no. Not you two again."
"Why Rin," I said, "I do believe our former babysitter is the moderator."
Rin smiled. It reminded me of a fox staring at a crippled sparrow.
"Well, well…" she said. "The Curry Monster returneth."
Ciel looked ready to turn the Black Keys on herself.
We'd first encountered "Seal" (as an eight-year-old Rin had affectionately called her before she'd received an affectionate spanking) when we were in first grade. As luck would have it, my father had business of some sort to attend to, and had needed someone to watch his wayward son and troublesome ward. His eyes had alighted on Ciel.
The vampire killer.
Dutiful burial agent and Instrument of Retribution that she was, Ciel had smiled and invited us to her apartment. She'd even accumulated a supply of Chex and Cocoa Puffs for the occasion. Alas, like most cereals with limited nutritional value, Rin hated Cocoa Puffs.
Remodeling had followed.
A sooty, scowling Ciel had returned us two days later. Her apartment had not escaped so easily. Most of it had collapsed from an accumulation of Black Key punctures, gem explosions, and tealish-gray goo from Rin's experiments that had acquired an appetite for porcelain fixtures.
It had been the most awesome weekend of our lives.
(Rumor had it Ciel never entirely succeeded in killing the goo – that it still lurks somewhere in Fuyuki's sewers, waiting for its day of reckoning. From time to time, I amuse myself by posting fake photographs on conspiracy forums. Like most burial agents, Ciel needs to be kept on her toes. Such is the price of public safety.)
I patted Ciel on the shoulder. She was already too tense to flinch. Like rigor mortis.
Rin smirked.
"You know, Ciel," I said, "Looking back on it now, we were horrible, horrible children…"
"Terrible children," Rin said.
"…And now we're teenagers."
Rin sidled along Ciel's other side just as the Burial Agent apparently swallowed her own tongue.
"Teenagers with really powerful weapons," Rin added helpfully.
"And prana-enhanced ghosts of legendary killers," I said.
"…And we're working together."
Twitching like that couldn't be healthy. Really, it couldn't. Nor was it advisable to spend two-minute intervals without blinking.
I was just about to wave my hand in front of Ciel's face when her hand suddenly shot into her purse. It emerged a moment later with a cell phone.
Ciel's dialing took on a frenetic – dare I say panicked? – staccato.
Brrring.
Brrring.
Click.
"BACKUP!" she shouted.
Somebody warbled on the other end.
"…What? I don't CARE, you nitwit! I need BACKUP!"
Warble.
"Send me Anderson. Now."
Rin and I shared a look.
…Oops.