Disclaimer: Yana Toboso owns Kuroshitsuji.
(Warnings for this story: child abuse and language)
7 A.M.
Everyday, at 7 A.M., the Phantomhive mansion is alive with the vibrant smells of half-charred eggs, tangy rashers of grilled bacon, and gingery potato cakes. The chef makes them as usual. He knows it's a busy day, so he sets his alarm clock to five and prepares everything by seven. He hates it, but it keeps him being fed and with a job.
He's always careful with the china set, lowering it from the high-shelved cabinet with his strong arms, breath like a tornado caught in his chest. He finally gets the china plates to safety, after what seems like a millennium, cleaned, stacked and all in a row, and he can breath again. He next sets out the silverware, glad that he can be less heedful of this, and then he checks the clock.
Seven o' five and not a minute more.
Ciel Phantomhive, a midnight-haired boy with striking blue eyes, the mansion's owner and VIP, flies down the stairs, struggling into his black jacket. His face is contorted in frustration while his teeth sink irritatedly into his bottom lip. He doesn't miss a step, and he moves swiftly past the kitchen table, grabbing up a plate of eggs, bacon, and potato cakes as he heads for the door.
The chef watches the boy as he turns right back around to retrieve his fork, which he had dropped on the floor in his haste.
"Where are you going today? Rome?"
"School."
"Oh?" Bard's voice is a sing-song note. "Your Aunt has actually convinced you to go there?" It was to go unspoken, but the boy's aunt, Angelina Durless, had taken charge of him once he lost his parents. For the longest, she had wanted to force her nephew out of the house to "make new friends, meet new people, and to finally 'settle down from work' maybe". To her dismay, Ciel had said that he was receiving a perfect education from his tutors, and that "new friends and new people" would all become a hassle to him.
Angelina being Angelina, had won the argument, but the fight had been long and hard, lasting for three whole years. At long last, she finally got the boy out of the house and enrolled into a private school in the outskirts of London. However, Ciel hadn't completely lost the fight; whenever he went to a photoshoot for a number of days, he'd have to bring tutors along.
"I'll be back by three, no later than four," Ciel responds, and offers Bard the fork to wash. "Make sure dinner is ready by then."
"Sure thing." And he returns the utensil to the boy's small hands.
The school is large like everything else in London. The halls are long like all hallways in London. And the place is clean, like every other place Ciel has been to. The tiled floors are made of marble, and the air smells like Febreeze or some other homely product. The windows are so clear you can see tens of thousands of reflections through them from a mile away, and the lockers are so grey elephants are put to shame.
Ciel oozes through the doorway and slips through the crowds as easily as liquid. He knows how to because that's the way it's done when he has to walk into the agency building on Friday nights. He quickly finds his locker and begins to undo the combination when the sounds of shuffling fabric are heard behind him and he turns.
A girl with buttery hair and newly-dewed-grass-colored eyes is behind him. Her mouth is slicked back into a smile, her books are crowded under her arm. She's a bit taller than him. Her hair is laced with bows and strings and ribbons, and her cheeks are lightly dusted with affection.
"Hi there! I'm Elizabeth... I... I couldn't help but notice... you must be..." she pauses, looking him up and down. She has a finger under her chin, as if it will help her think harder, until she snaps, and her mouth becomes an 'O'.
"Ciel Phantomhive!"
And the world erupts.
Heads turn so fast Ciel is surprised they don't snap back like rubber bands. Eyes grow wide, mouthes drop open, fingers are pointed, and a whole vicious sea of multicolored eyes are staring at him. One kid yells, "Where?" another shouts "He's there!" another hastily adds, "By the locker! By locker 1214!"
And, like bees and honey, there is a swarm, surrounding him, calling him, asking him questions, touching him. One even goes so far to say, "Can I have your number?"
He feels suffocated, but he's used to the feeling of bodies pressed against him, fingers rubbing against him, and voices hitting his face and his ears. He blinks his only visible eye, looking over the million heads to try and pilot a way from around the wall of swarming warmth and excitement.
He spots another boy instead.
He's blonde, one hand is on his hip while the other clutches a laptop bag. A smile is smoothed against his face, sitting perfectly still like an unwrinkled blanket, and his eyes are cut crystals, eyeing him and only him.
He scrutinizes Ciel for a bit before he brings his unoccupied fist to his mouth and coughs.
And the world regains control again.
That one cough, as if it were a trigger, sends the hallways into silence, and every head is turned towards this beautiful blonde boy.
There is a longer silence, and Ciel begins to wonder if the world has stopped. Has everything stopped moving? Has time stopped? Has the earth's rotation cut off? He glances around, the lustre of his sapphire eye increases tenfold with his confusion.
Elizabeth jumps and squeals and says, "Alois Trancy!" And the crowd leaves Ciel to swarm on another sweet treat. The name is unfamiliar, and Ciel's confusion sits still for a minute. He stares at Alois, and Alois, even though surrounded by thousands of buzzing bees, has only eyes for him.
Ciel makes his way over to the area and says, "Who's Alois Trancy?" to no one in particular, but Elizabeth perks up and answers, "A new and upcoming model!"
"New? ...Upcoming?" Ciel repeats, and Alois seems to know he is talking to him. He pushes past the bees in a flourish and walks over to Ciel, his arrogance hanging above the midnight-haired boy like a guillotine blade.
"My my, and you must be Ciel Phantomhive."
"Yes."
"Nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you."
'Lies', Ciel's mind screams, 'Nothing but lies'. This boy's eyes aren't genuine. They aren't welcoming. They swarm with an egoistic haze that Ciel has seen before and despises.
He's seen it in his own eyes.
Alois holds his hand out to Ciel, and for the sake of all that are watching, Ciel accepts it. The two shake hands, and Ciel notices Alois' hands are warm. He inspects the boy meticulously and walks closer, keeping their hands together the whole time.
Alois smells pleasant, like cherries and honey, and all of his features are soft and beautiful.
They let go.
"I'll see you around, Ciel," Alois says, shooting him a smirk. Ciel only offers a nod.
First fanfic here~ Thanks for reading till the end of this chapter! Not very eventful, but it's just exposition. Please, please, please critique. Would you like to read more? All ideas and suggestions are welcome.