Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, just a LOOOTT of OCs. You can totally take them though. It's all good.
I walk past the purple house where Silver lives. Behind it there's another, large, white building. Andy took me inside, leading me up to the front door. The door was made of glass and metal, in a simple and rather strange design. When we walked up to the door it opened, without us even touching it. I didn't let this faze me, there was probably magic in this world. I kept my expression cool, but some of my feelings must of shown through, because Andy said.
"It's motion sensitive." Ah, he was explaining the spell. How nice. We walk inside, Andy turned to me, and whispered. "Okay, I don't know what The Undertaker is up to, making you a recruit. It would be much simpler to just put you into the normal Shinigami city. But I trust that man and you will not let him down."
"I promise to not go batshit crazy and go on a killing spree." He gave me a look like he was disappointed, probably since it sounded like I wasn't taking it seriously. I wasn't. Giving a deep sigh, a well practiced one I noticed, he led me through the endless, symmetrical and nauseatingly repetitive corridors. I was fully dressed in my male uniform, and my hair had been cut to minimise suspicion. I didn't really mind, I could dig the whole, 'being a boy' thing. I actually felt rather neutral towards the idea of crossdressing. Though I thought it would get rather tiring. We came to a halt, in front of a door with writing on it. I turned to Andy, smiling almost grimly. This was a school type place, and I was about to reveal a complication. "So… What does that say?" He looked exasperated, but used to this sort of thing.
"You're illiterate?"
"Born and raised in the streets of London, old chap."
"It says room number three-hundred and sixty six. I will persuade Stuart to give you lessons in reading as well. If he refuses I'm sure Chandler will step up to take on the job." I nodded, still reeling from the events of the past… Hour? Couple hours?
"I best take my leave. I promise to soon fall out of a state of shock, and leave myself sobbing, and crying out blasphemy and profanity on the floor." He looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but had the sense not to. With a grunt of affirmation, he left me to my own devices.
I took a deep breath, and opened the door. Inside, I saw Stuart and that other boy who followed him before. They had their heads together in close conversation. But their hurried, flustered gaze was not what I paid attention to.
The room was ginormous. I looked out and saw couches and soft pillows, all perfect for sleeping on. The floor was clad in black tile, and there was a massive window in front of it all. It looked out on the endless white buildings. My jaw dropped in shock, we were so high! I did not recall climbing this high. That was part of the magic. The glass for the window was incredibly finely crafted, I saw nary a crack nor discrepancy in its vast, somehow even form. So I did what any person raised in the dirt of London would do. I ran forward, jumping onto the closest sofa, sinking into its softness.
"Dibs. I want to sleep here. So much dibs." The small bit of colour left Stuart's cheeks, and he turned his face to an angle most condescending.
"That isn't the bed you moron. This-" he gestured to the open space, "is the sitting room!" I paid barely any attention, still lying on the lovely surface. I stiffened, not because of what he said, but because of my own realisation. I'm going to be living in such a massive place, even bigger considering this is only the sitting room. We have a sitting room, for one thing, and that's a first for me. I draw into myself, position foetal. I'm so far from home. And though home isn't where I want to be, it's just, it's just… Tears are coming from me now. I don't try to stop them. I look to the side, and even Stuart looks hesitant about what to do. The boy beside him, he comes up to me. His gaze is as melancholy and deep as a forgotten well. He seems dull and somehow soulless. Then he smiles, it is not a happy smile, not a cheer. It is an ironic smile, a somehow comforting smile. It is a relatable smile. And I can see the black fires in his eyes start to flicker. He says, his voice mellow and resolute.
"You will be, okay..." I look up at his stringent, clinging stare. And I am also aware. We share a moment of knowledge, outside of time, beyond reality. My tears have dried, my mouth forms a perfect O. He looks up, sad and strong. His sharp chin juts away from me, and his overhanging hair, a strange, dark red, almost black, hides his eyes. He had let me see them before, and I knew that was an opportunity given to few. I didn't know how I knew, it was rare for me to know why or how my mind did something. I looked at him and said, softly.
"Thanks." Then I picked myself up and stood, not knowing what to do. He pointed to a door. I was really thankful because I need to make a dramatic exit and if I went through a random door, I could go into a closet or some else's room. So, holding my chin high, I walked through the door he had gestured to and I sat down in the bed, a real bed. It was far more comfortable than the sofa. I wondered vacantly if all the rooms in the building were like this. I couldn't fathom that that would be true considering the earlier comment made about the low class status of converted reapers. If that were true I think purebred reapers homes must be very lovely. I feel a sudden wave of despair come upon me. I had been waiting for it, I knew it. I had known this feeling as one of my closest friends. It embraced me, wrapped around me in a cold and metallic manner. It sent deep vibrations into me, the nuances of misery making their way through me. So much had happened, I was so confused. Sorrow dripped out of my eyes and I just couldn't. I just couldn't- I screamed. I screamed again and again like a madwoman, like the devil himself had come into me, throwing me with my crazy, shorn locks rising up and attacking everyone in my land of imagination. I kept making these lurching, uncontrollable sounds. They flew out of my throat in an intermingling cascade of crazed anger and sadness, one that had my face contorted into shapes none too pretty. The raw, human part of me left to roam and shriek to the heavens. The clawing, the tearing. The undeniable, the indubitable knowledge that I was so alone, alone in the strange, painful new place with nothing to guide me, nowhere to go, no way to escape nor desire to. To sum up the situation…
FUCK! I smashed the oil lamp next to me, it hit the ground, shattering instantly. Some of the pieces bounced up and cut me. The fire in it spread quickly over the floor, fed by the oil. I sat in the centre of it all, not caring. Not wanting to live or die or do anything but I was scared, oh so scared of everything and nothing. Someone came into the room. I didn't pay attention to them. The heat left me. I was sad shell of a human- of whatever I was. I saw the fire was doused, the lamp picked up. I started to feel physical pain as well, but I could barely differentiate between that and the turmoil inside me. The little bits of glass were just leaving the floor, carefully lifted by quick hands. Then I started to drift into slumber. There are many escapes to pain, and sleep is one of them. I hoped my mind would force out my pain, send it to another place where there was no darkness. Where it would recede and vanish simply because it failed to exist. If not, then I hoped to die. One would substitute for the other quite nicely. And so I slept.
Morning came, as it always does. I saw no rising sun, heard no bustle and hustle of people approaching the day. But I knew it was morning nonetheless. As I always do. My eyes first opened to the face of someone unknown. But then he became known again as I tripped over the precipice of awakeness.
"Oh, hey Stuart." His face seemed unsure, kind of shocked. He composed it immediately.
"You are calmed?"
"Very." He looked to the side.
"Are you aware that this is not a very good indicator of your mental stability?"
"Oh yeah. Well, I'm not very mentally stable right now."
"We are worried you are a danger to the community."
"Yup." He seemed exasperated.
"Are you going to do anything about that? Defend yourself perhaps?"
"Well I guess. But it's just like, I totally get it, Yunno? I would be wary of myself as well. Obviously I know for a fact I'm not going to be dangerous, but I can't expect you guys to know that." He rubbed his scalp, giving up on the conversation. I was just too much of an idiot for him to deal with. I looked down, and a thought occurred to me. "who changed my clothes? Also, why?"
"You were wounded from the glass."
"But it was just my hands though, right?"
"How did you not notice the piece of glass going into your chest?" He replied with a sort of annoyed shock. I shrugged.
"My mind was on other things?"
"Evidently." He said with slight- disgust? Annoyance? It was impossible to pick apart his tone.
"The question of who changed my clothes still stands." I stated blankly.
"Chandler."
"What?! Weren't we supposed to keep it secret from him?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures. Are you implying I could have changed you?"
"Well I would rather not be changed at all! However, if someone has to change me it may as well not be someone who doesn't know about this!"
"Calm down, crazy woman."
"You are an idiot. You are an actual idiot. Oh my god."
"I'm the idiot here?"
"YES!" He looks sideways.
"It wouldn't matter either way, he would find out eventually. Chandler is no idiot."
"Unlike y-"
"Shut up." His gaze is slanted upwards as he looks at me. His eyes are cold. Why is no one friendly here? Why doesn't anyone have a warm gaze? Why don't I have a warm gaze?
Damnit. Suddenly another voice breaks through the silence, a person unnoticed in the background.
"I can currently confirm that the probability of your intellect being below average level resides at approximately twenty-five percent. However, this is taking into account that your current behaviour patterns are likely stress induced. If I were to eliminate that, as Stuart seems to, considering his ignoring of it. Then the probability would rise to approximately sixty-four percent. To conclude, at this time your behaviour is that of an imbecile."
"The fuck you say?" I reply.
"Your confusion as to my mannerisms lets it rise to approximately thirty-percent taking stress into account, and seventy ignoring it."
"Love, I understand it. The fuck you say is a way of expressing my, 'why the hell are you talking like that' feeling."
"Duly noted."
"Well, it's nice to meet you nonetheless. My name is Hunter, which no one has seemed to ask. And you are Chandler?"
"Yes."
"Nice to meet you, or it least nicer than my first encounter with this strange beast." I said, motioning towards Stuart.
"I am glad to increase my social network, Hunter." I suppose that was his way of saying, 'nice to meet you too.' I'll take it. Stuart was fuming in the background after my comment. Stuart spoke up.
"Well that's all very well and good but, you need to prepare now. Classes start tomorrow." He groaned, "I don't think I can take another batch of confused new recruits." I narrowed my eyes.
"Dude. Cut them some slack, I don't know if you have ever died before, but it's pretty traumatic. Not to mention, when you die, you expect to stay dead, you know?"
"I don't."
"You haven't died before? Weird."
"Not having died is not weird."
"What? Dude, literally everybody dies."
"Oh my good lord…" He was so sick of me. But damnit, I was still sort of in shock. I would probably stay sort of in shock for the rest of my time here. Yes, the previous tantrum helped out a bit, but dying is hard to get a grasp on. Chandler removed himself from the background with speech.
"Tomorrow is the time in which your learning experience begins. Please regain your energy."
"I ain't sleeping just yet."
"Isn't, um ain't slang for aren't? If so, your sentence struc-"
"Shut Up Chandler." Me and Stuart spoke in unison. He seemed to retreat into the background space from whence he came. I mentally pushed away from the conversation.
"So, you guys don't think it's weird that I'm a girl right?" Chandler broke in.
"I am perfectly composed, however I have noticed Stuart struggling with an increase of sexual tens-"
"Shut up Chandler." We said again, perfectly synchronized. He shrugged and looked downward.
"Okay, so how do classes work? And am I gonna get a crash course in reading or something because, trust me. I did not have any time for that shit back home." Chandler seemed sort of surprised.
"Well, you needn't worry about that. We have troves of illiterate students swarming in here. Peasantry, as Stuart would say." I raised an eyebrow.
"That's rather disdainful, isn't it Stuart?"
"Most condescending." Agreed Chandler. Stuart was blushing ever so slightly.
"Shut up." He said, looking sheepish. Obviously his viewpoint had changed. Chandler seemed to come to a realisation.
"Oh yes, that one, correct?" I cocked my head to the side.
"What are you talking about?"
"Stuart was in one of those romanticism centered relationships with a peasant." I nodded my head.
"I see. Interesting." Stuart was leaning awkwardly in the corner. He opened his mouth and then closed it. Then he just walked away, into his room. Chandler followed him. They must sleep in the same room. I stepped out onto the floor, in front of the hospital bed and watched the moonlight stream into the room. I basked in its soft, cool glow more readily than the sun. It outlined little bits of dust whooshing through the air. I looked out, seeing no horizon, no vanishing point. Just white buildings that went on forever, smaller and smaller as they were raised higher in my vision. What use could they have for all of those buildings? Did they even use them? I pondered these things as well as the events of today. Or whatever amount of time had been. My eyes felt heavy. Could I really drift off to sleep, in this strange, comfortable, uncomfortable world? If I went to sleep would it all be over? Did I want it to be? Questions burning, eyes burning. Chest tight, and heart hollow, I slipped into my bed. Lost myself in the tears and the silk.
Sorry this chapter is shorter than the last one. I sort of bit off more than I could chew when writing it. I think I have to write a whole chapter at once for it to be good, but this was written in sections and sentences. I won't do it again.