"What do I say, daddy? What should I do? What if they don't like me? Or what we brought?"
Ciel was worriedly drumming his heels against the seat of the carriage, wrapped tightly in his mother's knit sweater. Vincent didn't seem to be able to find a way to get Ciel to part with it. He glanced across the carriage at Sebastian worriedly before looking back to his son. He seemed to think Sebastian was somehow better than he was at caring for Ciel. Sebastian had to wonder who little Ciel went to before when he needed something; it certainly seemed like his father was new to it.
"Ciel, as long as you remember your manners, everything will be fine."
The boy nodded nervously.
In the past few weeks, Sebastian had come to learn that Ciel didn't get much interaction with other children, or really, anyone; he was taught all his lessons at home (Sebastian had been asked to help take on that duty, though he didn't think it was quite a butler's job; at least Ciel was a good student), Vincent neglected church duties diligently, for which Sebastian was at least thankful, and Vincent didn't seem to think that any children were worth his son's time aside from his cousin, Elizabeth. Sebastian had yet to see this girl, but Vincent was keen on making excuses as to why she should not visit. Ciel seemed terrified of her; as soon as she was brought up he would become very shy. As if he wasn't shy enough already; though he'd warmed up to Sebastian considerably from their first encounter, he would still come into a room to find that Sebastian was alone in it and leave quickly. His lessons were nearly silent as he leaned closely over his work and all but whispered his answers. The other servants rarely knew where Ciel was, either, and Vincent did not notice if his son was there or not until he appeared again, usually right as Vincent was wondering where he'd gotten to.
Quite by accident, though, Sebastian had discovered that there was a way to lure Ciel out of hiding, and so far it worked perfectly; music.
He'd been wandering the townhouse, looking for odds and ends as the final pieces of furniture were being packed and prepared to move, when he opened a room and came across a huge collection of very old and unloved instruments. It looked like a professional music room; the walls were padded with cork and each instrument had its own stand and case, and though the room was now overcrowded with instruments, there was a small stage with chairs stacked messily on top of it. In the sliver of streetlight that fell through the curtains (it was the dead of night, after all), there lay a violin with its case open. Gently, Sebastian had lifted it, brushed the dust away, and begun to tune it. He'd quite forgotten how much he actually enjoyed the human affinity for making noise as he lifted its bow and began to play. He didn't even hear the door open, but he was suddenly very aware of a small presence. He stopped playing immediately and turned. He saw a pale little hand pressed against a shelf, and heard the quiet breath of a tired child.
"It's alright, you don't have to be afraid. It's only me." Sebastian knelt carefully, painfully aware of his contradictory statement. Slowly, Ciel stepped forward, but he made almost no sound, and wavered as if a ghost.
He was still wearing his mother's jacket.
"...I'm sorry...your music was...just...pretty…"
"Oh, did I wake you? It's awfully late, I'm sorry."
Ciel shook his head at the ground, hugging himself and the sweater.
"I...wasn't sleeping."
Sebastian didn't know what to do, so he smiled.
"I don't sleep much either. Would you like some tea?"
Ciel bit his lip and shook his head.
"N...no, thank you, but...but could you play more..?...It was just so pretty…"
Sebastian didn't know what to say, so he stood again and took one of the chairs folded up on the stage. He opened it and mocked dusting it off, met with a tiny giggle from Ciel. He offered it to the boy with an overly exaggerated bow and smile, making him laugh again. He climbed into the seat quietly and curled his knees to his chest, hiding in the knit memory of his mother as Sebastian lifted the bow of the violin and began to play again.
The look he'd first given Sebastian when he caught him in the music room was the same look on his face now, being jolted gently back and forth by the swaying carriage. Sebastian blinked carefully, trying to pull himself out of his thoughts and internally chastising himself for not paying attention to Vincent's speaking (though he had yet to say anything of actual importance).
"You'll be just fine, Ciel. Wanting to help others makes you a better person just by nature."
Ciel didn't answer.
Sebastian could tell he didn't believe him.
The inside of the orphanage was horrible. Even Sebastian could tell.
Curtains were wide open, but there were so few windows that what light came in was highly concentrated and only in shafts across the floor, making the rest of the building pitifully dark and musty. Everything was gray, even the faces of the children who lived there.
Vincent was silent, and Sebastian, too.
They just stood in doorways and followed Ciel down halls, letting him greet others in near-enough silence.
One little girl sat up in her bed. She looked at Ciel in the same way he looked at her; curious, a little apprehensive. Hurting.
Ciel placed a book onto the end of her bed, and she spoke first.
"What's your name?"
"Ciel." He answered obediently.
"I like your name."
"Thank you."
"Why are you here?"
"My mum died."
"Mine, too. But I never knew her."
"Does it make it easier?"
"No."
They looked at one another in silence.
Slowly, Ciel shed the jacket, and draped it around the girl's shoulders. She felt it with thin hands, and then looked back at Ciel. She reached under her pillow and drew out a stuffed rabbit.
It was a white rabbit, with hard red eyes and a little striped waistcoat, and she held it out to Ciel.
She tucked it into his arms.