This. This is shorter than the other chapters. Chapter size will be sporadic. Soz bruh.

I felt dread settle deep in the pit of my stomach. Classes started in one day. One. Day. Perhaps some would have been comforted about the seemingly mundane process of school, but as I had never been to one, it just made this experience more real. It was as if doing something I knew to be common but still hadn't done before made it closer to reality. And reality was not where I needed to be right now. Without schedule I had sat in my bed, letting out the occasional scream. Sometimes Chandler taught me how to spell words. It had been a week and I knew the whole alphabet and some spelling. It all seemed a stupid and confusing process. I rubbed my eyes.

It least the bed was comfortable.

It least the air felt clean. Oh so clean. The cleanliness here was godly. I had not seen a speck of dirt where it wasn't supposed to be. Once I accidentally tipped over a potted plant, spilling the soil everywhere. I went to sleep and the next day I found the contents back in the pot, the plant in perfect condition, and the floor spotless. It just wasn't natural here. This place creeped me out. I walked out into the sitting room, and saw that Stuart was there. We looked at each other briefly but found no need to communicate. Then I walked on. I walked out the door, and roamed the halls. I had no idea where the classes were, all through this building it was just numbered rooms. Nothing asymmetrical, nothing out of place. Just endless numbers that I barely knew how to read. On and on, silver, polished shine of conformity. I itched to get out, to see something more than the constant stream of white building after white building. I desired contrast. And so, I did what I always did in that situation. I visited Silver. We had had many talks about many things. Stretching from my position here, to the social inequalities of the human world, to types of tea. I would cosy up on a coffin and watch the screaming walls with merriment. I came into the house again. Soaking up the vibrantly rich purple. But when I went inside there was something different. Yes, Silver was there, as he alway was. But there was someone else there. A small girl, curled into a fetal position. Sleeping. Silver stroked her hair, giggling crazily. Her hair. Her hair was blue. Something about that was strangely familiar. Not familiar in a warm way, a cosy coffin way. But in a cold, hard, strangling way. A pulling, tearing, niggling feel something was off. That my fragile, newly constructed world was about to shatter, shards cascading into the depths of terror. Something was strangely familiar. The girl opened her eyes, and they were a vibrant blue. Something felt wrong about this. I couldn't place it. But her, clouded, sleepy blue eyes were wrong. The girl looked around, wary. She got up, Silver backing off. Then it happened.

The shine of the hanging lamp hit her blue, blue hair. It illuminated it, and I remembered.

Four months prior

The fires swept through my Auntie Marie's house, tongues of flames leaping up and licking everything they saw with destructive prowess. They tore the place apart, incinerating it. I ran from the fire, through the burning, the wailing, through it I ran. There was a ripping, a hot, fleshy ripping. My throat whooshed and sighed. But I could not scream. I could not scream. I could only whoosh, and puff, and rasp with terror. The fire had a terrible beauty to it. All it wanted was to take, take, take. It wanted to consume everything given the chance. It wanted to consume me.

Then I saw him.

He stood, hair shining with a cool blue. Blue. Red. The sickening contrast. The death, the burning. The blue. The red. I thought. "I need to save him, I need to help." I ran up to him.

He turned to me and I became stone. That expression. That faint, bitter smile. That strange eye. Set in the face of a young boy who had seen too much. He was not scared. He was not sad. He seemed to be perpetually jaded. He spoke a few words. Heavy, scary words.

"Sorry about your Aunt." He smiled with sad mirth. Just as I was about to fix my dumbstruck expression and just fix- just somehow fix everything. A blurred shadow whisked him away. I thought I caught a flash of red in the shadow. I was not sure.

I lay down and wept.

Present time

I found myself rocking back and forth, curled up in terror. That hair. That terrible, beautiful hair. Did she- no, he have the eye? I had to see. I had to see. I turned to look and found the boy- wait, girl? watching me rather curiously. I sighed in broken relief when I saw two, perfectly blue eyes. My heart was beating like a drum and they seemed somehow concerned. They were concerned. They were kind. They were nothing like the child-monster I knew. So I relaxed and accepted a cup of tea that was for some reason in a beaker. I still couldn't get rid of that feel though. That fear, the jagged fear. I turned to him, and there was shudder in my voice.

"What's your name, and are you a boy?" He looked up thoughtfully. Then sideways fearfully.

"Of course I'm a boy!" He said rather indignantly

"Sorry! Also, what's your name?" Still looking annoyed, he tried to answer. But only panic came to his fragile features.

"I don't know. Why- why don't I know?" I looked to Silver. He only shrugged.

"Beats me!" I rolled my eyes.

"Lots of help there Silver."

"Your name's Silver?" The boy questioned. Silver smiled, baring his teeth.

"No, but you can call me Undertaker." He looked to the side, biting his lip like he knew a really good joke we had no idea about. "Or something like that…" He trailed off, fiddling with his long fingernails. The boy nodded.

"That feels right." I clapped my hands together.

"Well then, until you can remember your name, we really have to give you one." Silver nodded along with me. The blue haired boy hesitantly agreed.

"How about Giggles, or Poffy, or Snappabacka, or George?" (Silver, not me.)

"George sounds good!" I said. Silver looked at me strangely.

"That was the worst one out of the bunch." Bluenette cut in.

"I'll take it." Well it least it wasn't Snappabacka. Silver sighed.

"Such a dull name…" I rolled my eyes. George spoke up.

"It's an okay name, but it feels somehow… Wrong."

"Well it probably isn't your name, wee chap! But I'm sure you'll remember eventually." George exasperatedly rubbed his head in a manoeuvre that somehow seemed so natural on him. It was strange, considering his age. He must feel exasperated and stressed a lot.

"As long as it isn't Snappabacka…"

"That's the spirit!" And cue his exasperation being directed towards me. I was just so nervous around him, and I was trying to cover up my dread. He just bore such a resemblance to the boy. But no, that boy wasn't as feminine, right? Or was he more feminine… I didn't know, so much of that memory had been blocked with my own pain. He raised his eyebrows now, taking the place in.

"Where the bloody hell am I?" Silver and I only smiled. And I said.

"Close enough." His face had a sort of- oh shit! Expression. I laughed freely.

"I'm just joking! Calm down!" Pulling my smile into myself, I stopped and stared at him with all the seriousness I could muster. "You are in neither heaven nor hell. But you are most certainly dead." The shock drenched into every pore of his face, eye sockets almost becoming gaunt with the unpleasant surprise. It was never easy to find that you were dead.

"No I'm not. Get me away from these crazy people! GET ME AWAY FROM THEM!" Ah... The first stage. Denial. He knew we were speaking the truth, he could feel it. Otherwise he would react like this. If he were alive and someone informed him of his demise, he would calmly and collectedly state them wrong. But no, that was not what was to happen. That was not what was happening. My voice was soft. It breached no delusion of his with its mild tones, gentle reprimanding.

"Who exactly are you calling to?" His face became somehow even paler.

"I don't know." Then he fainted, in front of the fire, the boy we called George fainted. Silver rubbed his eyes, a dangerous game when his nails were 5 centimetres long. (Yeah I use the metric system, like most of the world. Deal with it.) Silver bowed to me suddenly, taking on a strange drawl.

"Well then, my fair lady, I leave him up to you. Be sure to show him round and explain his situation. Don't tell him your true identity, and coax his memories into a place in his mind where he can see them. That shouldn't be too hard, should it?" After this he walked out through a coffin shaped door, which was a pretty cool design feature if I do say so my- that isn't a door. He just- he just walked into a coffin built into the wall. Okay then. You. You do you Silver. You do you. Looking at the child on the floor, I shrugged and hoisted him over my shoulder. He was even lighter than I had expected. I smiled to myself.

"We're gonna have a fun time together Snappabacka!"

I laughed as I walked to my dorm.

Authors note: Yeah… I forgot this story existed. SORRRRRRRRY I WILL ATONE WITH MY LIFE! That. That was a foreshadow. I hope. Anyways…. Ciel hanging at the Shinigami academy, holy shit. Isn't it gonna be fun seeing what happens! If you notice any errors or something please tell. I'd rather you tell me then have (gasp) a grammatically incorrect piece of writing! Purely because it pisses me off to read other fanfiction filled with errors. No. Casual language is not an error year 7 English teacher. Thankyou for reading.

-Me