Two years after the tragedy…

Ciel Phantomhive woke with a strangled cry, his mismatched eyes flying open, and found himself staring at desolate shadows. Darkness clustered around the trivial room densely. He could barely hear the quiet murmur of voices in the distance through his panic, and he struggled into a sitting position, kicking away the blankets that previously covered him. In his rush of nervous anxiety, he couldn't confirm exactly where he was, and he almost didn't want to out of traumatizing fear.

He was in a soft bed, which was almost completely foreign and alien to him in his current state of mind, in an absurdly trim bedroom, and there was hardly any light. He heard the hoarse rasp of his own breath as he turned to his left, and a strangled scream forced its way out of his throat. The masked face that plagued his night terrors hovered in the darkness before him—a hauntingly mesmerizing mask in the colourless shade of pure noir, with the design of the fabled ancient labyrinth snaking along the crisp edges. Where the eyes should have been were just shadows caused by the darkness of the hellish mask, and the rest of its features were hidden by the large grey cloak that was draped upon its head and swept along its body, with only its scarred and rough hands visible, reaching towards him with seemingly no remorse.

He screamed again and scrabbled backward, falling off the bed. He hit the wooden floor, and the fabric of the too-big white dress shirt he's wearing—he's too freaked out to remember why he's wearing it—ripped at the bottom as he scrambles to his feet.

"Young Master." Someone was calling out to him, but in his panic, he barely even realized that the voice was indeed addressing him and not the leader of the wretched nightmare cult. Ciel couldn't even tell if the hooded monster with the mask was even the speaker, as it had not moved when he did, and though it showed no sign of pursuit, he began to back away, feeling behind himself for a door. The room is so dim, and his vision so blurry from just waking up, the square-shaped room feeling extremely claustrophobic to the child who had been trapped in a sheltered cage for a month. While there is a large bay window, the thick curtains were preventing the light from entering the black abyss of a room. "My Lord—"

He found the door, the metal handle feeling cold in his sweaty hand. He turned it and pulled. Nothing happened. A sob began rising in his throat as he held back tears. He swore to never cry again, to never allow the major emotion to impact his life ever again…

"Young Master!" the voice said again, and suddenly white light with a golden tone flooded inside the room, causing Ciel to react by hissing and shielding his eyes with his arm. "Young Master, my sincerest apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you while you were just waking up from a bad dream." The voice is now distorting into a familiar one, one that was as sly and seductive as toxic poison. "Young Master, please."

Ciel turned slowly and pressed his back against the door. He could see clearly now, though a massive headache was now settling between his eyes. He was indeed inside a bedroom, but not a foreign one as he previously thought in his insane state of mind. It was his own room, with the familiar blue covers now hanging off the mattress where he fell off of it just moments before. Intricate paintings from the past and present are hung on the wall, and various ornaments are laid out neatly upon the wooden furniture.

Beside the bed stands a tall man wearing a fitted black tailcoat of the finest Yorkshire wool. A gleaming silver pendant shimmers over his heart, bearing the intricate crest of the noble Phantomhive family. He was carrying a tea set created by the elegant Royal Doulton, an English ceramics and stoneware maker that became quite popular in the recent years. His raven hair was parted neatly, with one single chunk resting over his face, oddly making him look even more desirable. He was at least a foot taller than Ciel, and also quite slim with a pale washed-out face and eyes that seemed to be made of glistening blood red rubies. While his staggeringly glorious and way-too-perfect features were almost comparable to the sly mystery of an elusive cat's beauty, the calm, kindly look on his near-translucent face made the ache of anxiety in Ciel's stomach to ease slightly.

"Young Master," the black butler said in an almost eccentrically polite and tranquilizing tone. "For today's breakfast, I have prepared poached salmon and mint salad. We have toast, scones, and pain de campagne on the side. Which would you prefer?"

Ciel blinked in a slight daze, his breathing dawdling as the many food choices, particularly when he had to remember that pain de campagne is simply the French country bread that had a hard crust and chewy texture, allowed him to temporarily forget about the nightmare-induced hallucination. After reliving the moment yet again of when he was forced to choke down grainy slop and filthy water, something made by the competent butler almost seemed like something someone like him doesn't deserve. A feeling of tiredness overwhelms him as he mutters "…scone" before yawning.

The butler smiled and nodded, pouring the luscious tea into a delicate china cup that appeared to have real charming blue roses stamped onto it. As the young boy stared at the pulchritude of the blue and white cup, the butler began carefully unbuttoning and removing the master's oversized dress shirt, replacing it with a fitted piece of formal attire. Ciel allowed his mind to wander as the butler does this, steering clear of images of hell that remained in his spirited intellect. The now twelve-year-old boy was still trying to become accustomed to this lavish life he had been blessed with, as the Earl of Phantomhive, the title that he inherited from his…late father. The precious manor that burned to wispy gray ashes during that horrid day on the December of 1885 was built back up brick by brick within the fog-cloaked forest just a short distance from the fair city of London in the next year. He was taken away for a dreadfully long month, only to be rescued by the very man that is carefully dressing him at this very moment.

Ciel sniffed at the air, breaking out of his wayward thoughts as a familiar crisp, citrusy scent becomes present. "This aroma… Ceylon tea, hm?"

The butler began tying a blue ribbon around the earl's neck. "Yes, sir. Black tea freshly grown in distant Ceylon."

The boy nodded, taking deep breaths to insure his limited sanity. "And the schedule for today?"

"Professor Hughes, an authority on the history of the Roman Empire, will arrive after breakfast, sir." The handsome butler finished dressing his young master, standing up and bowing courteously. "And after lunch—"

A thunderous burst reverberates through the room, cutting off the butler's words abruptly. Ciel whipped his head to the door, only to find that it has been knocked off its hinges by three figures who are sprawled out on the floor. The anxiety bubbling inside him seemed to skyrocket, that is until he identified them, the three other servants of the household that he appointed. He bit his lip, holding back his distinct sigh of annoyance at their outrageous stupidity. The butler, however, seemed almost angry at their antics as his crimson eyes seemed to glow like hot coals in burning furiosity.

"What are you three doing here?" the butler asked the three of them in an icy tone as they scrambled to their feet in unfortunate shame.

The youngest of the trio, Finnian the 'idiotic' gardener, saluted while holding back apologetic tears. His strawberry blonde hair was ruffled, with bright red pins keeping his shaggy bangs out of his sparkling forest green eyes. His outgoing orange plaid pants and the silly straw hat he kept behind his neck emphasized his innocent and childlike personality. The 'bumbling' maid, Mey-Rin, is blushing wildly, though most of the embarrassing redness is covered by the giant pair of thick glasses that she never leaves her designated bedroom without. She may look the part with her cherry red hair kept back in a casual yet messy feminine up-do and navy dress paired with a lacy apron, but she was possibly the clumsiest person to have ever breathed the precious oxygen of this planet. The only one left was the 'inexperienced' chef Baldroy, the tall sky blue eyed man who believed that cooking was the 'art of explosion.' While he may be handy with firearms, cooking was not his strong suit. He was now scratching the back of his head, obviously slightly concerned as to what the butler may do to punish them.

Tears began streaming down Finnian's face, creating a slight pang of guilt in the pit of Ciel's stomach, which was immediately supressed. "We're sorry, Mister Sebastian! We didn't mean too!"

"W-we were just curious, yes!" Mey-Rin stuttered enthusiastically, tapping her index fingers together in a mortifying fashion.

Baldroy lit a cigarette with a shaky hand, his expression calm yet anxious. "For the record, we didn't hear a thing…we are just awaiting our tasks for the day, Sebastian."

The butler, Sebastian, sighed as he glared at all of them with his usual blank features. "Finny, have you finished weeding the inner courtyard? Mey-Rin, have all the sheets been laundered? Baldo, were you not to be preparing dinner?"

He was answered with nervous breathing and beads of sweat forming on their brows.

"If you have time to dally here, go do your work!" Sebastian pointed towards the hallway while shouting, and the trio scurried out quickly like frightened mice, as if lightning was about to burst from the end of his gloved finger.

Ciel took a bite of his scrumptious breakfast, the flavour absolutely dissolving his senses as he watched the butler. Sebastian Michaelis became the official head butler of the Phantomhive's when he came into power, taking over as the CEO of the Funtom Corporation and as the Earl Phantomhive…amongst other things. The pair have been inseparable since that fateful day, when Ciel was set free from his bounds of Hell, only to be bound by a fresh set of chains…

Gulping down his tea timidly, Ciel decided to break the lingering silence between the two. "Speaking of work…Sebastian. I got a call from Chlaus in Italy last night."

Sebastian turned to look at him. "From Mister Chlaus, Sir?"

"I need to talk to you about it. Come." He stood up, walking towards the gaping hole where a door once stood and heading towards the study.

"Yes, My Lord."

XXX

"…then…Mister Chlaus himself is coming to England, Sir?"

Sebastian Michaelis stood on the opposite side of the desk from his master, Earl Ciel of the Phantomhive family. The navy blue haired boy was looking through The Times newspaper, possibly looking for any new cases being investigated by the incompetent Scotland Yard, the territorial police force responsible for policing most of London. While some would probably question why a twelve-year-old was reading a newspaper, even more may ask how in hell a twelve-year-old became a British nobleman under the rule of Queen Victoria.

Not that it was anyone's business, really. Ciel was much better at what he does than any other, even those older than him, and Sebastian was honoured to be lucky enough to serve such an interesting human. That is, until the day when he was to get his payment…

Ciel chewed on his lip, a nasty habit of his, as he glanced up at the much taller butler. "Yes. He rang to tell me he'd gotten a hold of what I'd asked for. It seems he went through a lot of trouble this time."

Sebastian nodded, picturing Mister Chlaus in his head. A middle-aged man, Chlaus was a vigorous and adventurous individual who had the unfortunate habit of speaking in the language native to the place he recently visited. If Ciel ever needed anything exotic, Mister Chlaus was the best of the best.

"He should arrive by six. We'll talk business in here." Ciel smirked mischievously, giving Sebastian a sly glance that looked almost sinister with his adorable features. "You get my drift, don't you, Sebastian?"

Sebastian smiled and bowed, placing his gloved hand over where his heart was supposed to be. "Perfectly, Sir. We shall entertain Mister Chlaus such that he is well and truly satisfied. I shall begin the preparations. If you will excuse me…"

Ciel looked away, his expression becoming lonely looking. "All right. I leave it to you."

"Please do, Sir." The butler tugged one of his gloves back down, and he noticed Ciel watching him almost longingly as he does so.

XXX

Sebastian strolled out of the room calmly, enjoying the blissful peace of the manor now that the servants were set to work. Not that they will do it properly, but it was better than nothing at all. He wasn't entirely sure why Master Ciel insisted on hiring them, he would've done perfectly fine on his own, but he wasn't necessarily going to question his master as to why he hired a bunch of misfits in the 'honourable' household.

Taking a much unneeded breath, Sebastian began polishing the silverware, making them sparkle dazzlingly enough for when Mister Chlaus arrived in the evening. Polishing silver until it shone like a mirror; that was a daily job for Sebastian, though quite a turnaround from when he was serving his previous master, all those years ago.

Would you say that Sebastian Michaelis cared for his master? When asked by others, he would politely say that his master was a charming young boy with brilliant potential for the future. The harsh reality, however, was that the butler thought of Ciel as a brat…a brat who had no sympathy for others and worked his 'followers' much too hard. Just because he had a rotten past, did not mean he had to treat others likewise.

Laying out the spotless white tablecloth, Sebastian dashed to the garden, carrying a set of shining clippers. Although Finny was hopeless when it came to gardening, the sterling silver roses still managed to bloom under the harsh conditions left by the idiot. The lawn must be trimmed as well, so it resembled nothing as much as velvet.

Sebastian realized now that the food would also be vital to accomplishing the Phantomhive Hospitality. He must be particular about the beef, but equally so about the vegetables, rice, salt, and pepper. He must go to the market to select the choicest ingredients to not risk tarnishing his precious master's name.

Just as he was getting back into his no-thinking-only-working mindset, a clanging bell found its way into his ears. Sebastian looked up at the wall next to him as he made his way inside with the roses, only to find that it was Master Ciel, summoning him into the study yet again. Clapping his hands together, he sighed heavily.

"My, my…the Young Master knows how busy I am…I wonder what he could want." He said this to himself, pulling his black tailcoat back over his shoulders. It was bad enough that Ciel often got clingy when he had nightmares, what in hell could he want now?

XXX

Baldroy, the 'chef' of the Phantomhive household, smirked as he lit yet another deadly cigarette with his trusty wooden matches. The Young Master often told him in a low voice that he must stop in order to actually cook, but he just couldn't quit. The reek of the smoke, its addictive nature; it was the only thing that often kept him sane throughout the day as images of dead soldiers and the family he left flash in his mind. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was not a fun thing to have, and the smoking was the only thing that…distracted him. That is, beside the explosions that he often caused in the kitchen with his flamethrower.

He was now watching Sebastian walk down a hallway through the crack of the door, excitement building up as he realized the signs adding up; adding up to the very chance he had been waiting for.

"Seeing how Sebastian's all fired up…there's no doubt about it!" He turned around, considering the eyes of Mey-Rin, Finnian, and old man Tanaka. His smile grew, his hand closing into a fist in front of him. "We got a guest comin' today!"

Mey-Rin turned pink in the face, her smile also widening into a much happier one than after Sebastian yelled at them earlier. "N-not a doubt in the world at all!" she stuttered in her nasally voice.

Finny seemed to be the most excited of the lot. His hands shot into the air, his goofy smile making him look even more childish than he already did. "YAAAY! We'll get to eat a feast! Leftovers!"

Baldroy puffed on his cigarette, placing his index finger on Finny's forehead. "You fool! That's not the point!" he scolded the young boy gently.

"Eh?" Finny went cross-eyed to look at Baldroy's finger.

"This is our chance!" Baldroy crossed his arms, liking the feeling of being the 'commander' of the 'operation'. "We're gonna get a step ahead of that Sebastian and surprise him! It's an opportunity for us professionals to show off our skills, am I right?"

Finny's eyes began sparkling, his enthusiasm making Baldroy feel as though he was somehow impacting the sixteen-year-old's life. "AH! I see! Okay! I'll make the garden beautiful like our guest has never seen!"

Mey-Rin's face was now the same colour as her hair, most likely from thinking about the oh-so-perfect Sebastian. "A-and I'll polish the tea set for our guest to such a shine that it will look like new!"

Baldroy nodded, pleased that the lady was also becoming a part of the master plan. "Then the great Baldo will cook a main course so awesome our guest's jaw'll hit the floor!"

The trio stacked their fists on top of one another's, a sort of tradition for them as the Phantomhive servants. Baldroy couldn't seem to stop smiling, glad that he could at least allow this team to have some amazing moments in their lives.

XXX

Ciel looked up from his stacks of paperwork for Funtom Corporation, only to find Sebastian walking in the room in an elegant fashion. The butler had been working with him for almost three years, and the feeling that seemed to infect his mind still lingers, even after trying to shut them out. Yes, the young boy has had feelings for his butler ever since that day, when he was rescued by the man from the wretched cult. Even with the day of his death ticking closer every second, he could deny that he felt something whenever he saw the butler in black.

Was it love? Ciel wasn't sure, as he had no idea what exactly love was supposed to feel like. But, he knew that if he were to say a word to anyone, he would live to regret it in the end. Why, you may ask?

Because Sebastian Michaelis was an emotionless being. Love, happiness, even sadness was only myth where he reigned from. Not only would he be scorned by his butler, but also by the entirety of England.

"What is it, Sir?" Sebastian asked, looking down at his master.

Ciel squirmed slightly, suddenly feeling anxious over what he was going to ask. However, he wasn't about to show any sort of weakness to Sebastian, not after this long. "I'm hungry. I want something sweet, like a parfait."

Sebastian pursed his lips. "No, Young Master. If you have that, you will not finish all of your dinner."

"Just make something." Ciel almost felt like an idiot now, being told 'no' by the one serving him.

"I am afraid I cannot, Sir."

"Just make something."

"No, Young Master."

Ciel clicked his tongue, standing up abruptly. "Fine then." He muttered, looking out the window at the cloudy sky. A thought that had been nagging him for quite some time returned as he took a deep breath. "Sebastian, do make sure that Chlaus has all the hospitality that we can offer. Everything must be perfect. If he's coming here now, after so many years, he must be doing it to test me."

"To test you, Sir?"

"Yes. Chlaus can easily send what I asked for through the post. For him to go through the trouble…he either wants something, or he wants to know if I'll be as pleasurable as my predecessor."

"So, what would you like me to do, My Lord?"

Ciel gritted his teeth, looking down at the sapphire ring gleaming on his finger. "You know that portrait, in the main hallway?"

"Yes?"

"Take it down."

Sebastian made an audible gasp, surprising Ciel. The butler rarely showed emotion, how would this be any different? Sure, he kept it there as a reminder of who he was now, but times have changed, now that it's the year of 1888. He wanted that to be something for Chlaus to notice when he enters the mansion.

"I am Ciel Phantomhive…" he muttered, rubbing the ring with his other thumb. "I'm the head of this house now. Just because they're…my parents…does not mean that the portrait of them must remain there."

Sebastian bowed, and Ciel knew that his hand is over his heart as it always was.

That was when they heard the deafening clash downstairs.

A/N – I had this chapter prewritten, so I decided to post it now! Yes, I'm aware that this is very similar to the anime/manga beginning, but I plan to alter it to be original! Please bear with me. I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I have started it.

Here is where I will reply to my current reviews:

Promocat: I was going to add more to it originally, but I decided to remove some of it for plot purposes. You see, if you look closely, something is a bit…off? I'm hoping people will catch onto it for the future, which is why it isn't explained as well as I'd normally like it to.

Thanks for reading, R&R!