The Condition

Chapter 4

Bardroy

The black and purple bruises on his arms were showing from under his torn white sleeves. He sighed.

Every day was not a good day for Bardroy who calls himself a cook. He gets beaten up almost every time he actually finishes something! Whose day doesn't go haywire with that? But still, he wonders why he was never fired by his boss a long time ago. It would have been better.

To say that his working place—the kitchen—was as good as the first kitchen he worked in was a very, very big understatement. For a restaurant, the kitchen was very small and the utensils were rusty. The window glasses were cracked (if not shattered) and the poultry was just outside! Again, Bardroy wondered why the place never got shut down.

Also, to say that his salary was adequate was the largest lie that he could tell anyone. And that was only if he gets one. Sometimes his superior just beats him up whenever he asks for the money.

But he thought it was worth it. He had gone through 16 restaurants and kitchens already—not including the Phantomhive manor—and he got fired even before his first day ran out each time! Uncle Peter's—yes, that is the name of the godforsaken place—was the only one that gave him chances. He had nowhere to go and he was already starving. He could have gone back to be a soldier again. But he has had enough of that. He meant what he told Sebastian. He wanted to cook to learn how to be patient. To learn the better use of fire and other things.

But when he thought about it, the couple of chances he got from the diner were little compared to the millions of chances he got when he was still working for Earl Phantomhive. Life was heaven in his manor. And the head butler, Sebastian, never even yelled at him even though he practically burnt the whole place.

The people there were angels, too. At least, compared to the staff and customers in Uncle Peter's, they were. His fellow servants in the manor were his best friends. He was comfortable with them because he knew he could trust them. In the wrecked up restaurant he was blessed to work in, he was almost sure that the waitresses slash janitors SLASH prostitutes –okay, scratch that—were ready to sell him out anytime.

The blonde sighed, flipping the piece of meat on the pan he was holding over the fire. Finny and Mey-Rin, despite their many imperfections, they were still the best people who listened to him and actually understood him. Sebastian did, too. But the servants of his rank, well, they knew what it was like. Old Tanaka also listened to him. But he was not so sure if the old guy actually remembers what he says. He was pretty ancient.

Hmm. He wondered where they were. Were they alright and happy? Unlike him? He hoped they were.

Oh, and he really could not forget Sebastian. He was the king of service. No mistakes. Not a single one. He was always on time, too. He was the perfect butler. Old Tanaka came just a few steps behind him, too. He sighed again, wishing that the two were also alright. Bard was almost sure that the elderly butler stayed. And he wondered…

He shook his head to dismiss the thought and reverted his thoughts to Sebastian, yet again.

'Ugh, I sound like I have a crush on him already,' he groaned in his mind, almost getting irritated at the thought of thinking about the man that Mey-Rin admired so much. But he was just so different. He disappeared when the young master also disappeared. It would have been less peculiar if he returned after the boy Earl died. But it was like he still followed his master to the tomb. Like he died with him.

And it would have saved them from the mystery if the boy's corpse was found.

Bard sighed again, not realizing that the thing he was cooking—using the "safe" (boring) way—was already burning. He let his thoughts wander a little bit more.

So, Master Ciel was gone, Sebastian disappeared, Old Tanaka…well, he did not really know…, his ex-coworkers dispersed—Mey-Rin never showed herself to him again—and Lady Elizabeth…was everywhere.

During the first month of the few weeks after her fiancé's death, she kept on visiting the manor, looking at every corner possible for her love to come out. She kept waiting patiently, not believing the death certificate, news and the grave with an epitaph and his name on it. She was one faithful girl. She would have been the perfect wife for his master. He would have loved serving her as the Lady of the Household.

But he knew there was still one place she never got the chance to survey: the office. It was locked. All openings were locked and that included the windows.

Anyway…

She kept on waiting. But one day, her mother barged in dramatically; fuming like Ursula with anger (The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Andersen was the only book his mother read to him when he was little). All eyes were focused on her approaching form. The intolerant clicking of her high heels was the only sound heard for a few moments.

Once she was face-to-face with her daughter, all he heard was the yelling of the marchioness and the crying of younger girl. He did not even catch the argument they were having. The last part was the only thing he remembered.

The room went quiet at the time when Lady Middleford suddenly said, "There is no point, Elizabeth."

All Lady Elizabeth could do was stay quiet and try to keep her tears from falling from her bright green eyes.

"You are marrying another man. That is final."

Again, the room went quiet. He could feel Mey-Rin and Finny shaking behind him. He felt his breath getting stuck in his throat. It was like nobody used up the air that He provided. He wanted to yell at the adolescent to say "No!" but alas, he could not find the courage to do so.

And when she kept on being soundless, her mother continued, "Come, let us go home. You are to stay away from this house, am I understood?"

"Yes, Mother."

That quiet whisper was the last he heard from her. Once she stepped out of the big double doors, she never stepped back in. She was never to return…

Forever.

All Bard ever heard about the lass was that she was a fine young lady in the headlines for being the eligible daughter of the late Leader of the British Knights. And all he ever saw in the pictures in the headlines was the blank look in her eyes despite the pretty big smile on her lips. The smile she always gave her former betrothed was long gone.

But that was two years ago. He just heard that she was getting married to a big man: a duke at that. Maybe she found happiness once again. At least, that was what he hoped for.

Meanwhile, as the cook's memories rolled through his mind, the beef steak that he was trying to carefully cook was already on fire. Thinking that his cigarette was getting too hot and it was already too short for him, he looked down and saw what was really happening.

Shocked and obviously starting to panic (Yes, he still did despite the number of times he had already done it), he let go of the pan and yelped. He looked around, desperately looking for a rag to appear in front of him.

Oh, how he wished for a genie to come!

There! Just in that one dirty corner. There was a rag! Hallelujah.

We immediately ran for it and mindlessly threw it on the growing fire.

"Oh my god!"

Hi mind was now going blank as he realized that the rag was as dry as a wilted leaf. This was far worse than his infamous explosions.

Oh, no.

Almost half of the kitchen was already burning! 'Goodbye, world,' he thought. But like fallen grace, a man with the darkest hair and clad with the darkest outfit abruptly burst through the door and through a dripping blanket—or was it a tablecloth—onto the raging fire coming out to eat him. And he got that cloth from…his back?

Catching his breath, Bardroy looked at the pale man, thinking it over if he was dreaming or not. He must have been dreaming. The man looked exactly the same! If he was the man he was thinking about. But seriously, that was the same appearance he was last seen in. At least, to Bard it was. By now, the fire was already exhausted.

This is only a dream. A dream that felt so deceiving and real and…

"You should be more careful next time, Bardroy. You are no longer working for the Earl Phantomhive. I would advise you to stay alert in you workplace."

Oh, my…

He could not help it. He screamed.

Sebastian sighed and turned around to go outside the door where he entered. It was like the old days when he just ignored Bard and walked out to do the other chores. The shocked cook followed the stoic man out of the room and caught the sight of his boss talking to someone who was wearing something fancy. His head was covered by that cabinet above the counter. He was clearly a noble just with a small frame. No wonder the fat man did not come to beat him up yet.

But, wait. Was Sebastian really working for another man now? That dismayed him quite a bit. But at least it was proven that the former Phantomhive butler was human…right?

"I'm sorry, but…cannot have him…no other cook that…" was all he heard from his goddamn boss. And it seemed that the nobleman did not want to back down. "What would it grant me then, huh?"

Ahh. The infamous question his boss would always ask. The fat, stubby man was one selfish, money-faced fool. He didn't care for anyone. Just himself.

'A lifelong assurance that your kitchen would not burn down,' Sebastian thought, quietly chuckling in his place behind his master.

Ciel knew that he should not lose his temper now. Although he would never let his pride down, he would also not let things go awry. The man he was dealing with did not seem to be a submissive man. And there were many thugs around. Heck, he did not even know if Sebastian would still fight for him—or with him—in case there was an… emergency. He did not believe that his physical abilities would allow him to win against the gang with the men twice his size. If he wanted his reputation intact, he would not let anything further stain his name now. He intended to keep his life, thank you very much.

"A hundred pounds," he persuaded him. "Will that be enough?"

Ciel sighed in frustration as he just laughed out maniacally without remorse. This is very frustrating, indeed. Suddenly, anger shot through his gut when he felt his heavy and sweaty left hand landed on his left shoulder.

Sebastian, the ever-so-loyal butler stepped forward at the gesture. Just like what he did with the young earl before. When someone tries to even touch the boy, he stops that person from doing so. As far as Bard could tell, it saved a lot of trouble, too. The lad seemed to loathe physical contact. He sometimes wondered if the earl was ever going to have heirs.

With a calm face, demeanor—practically everything—, he informed the encroacher, "Excuse me, Sir, but I am afraid that the young master requires space-"

"Oh, yeah?" he interrupted. This is not pretty. He tightened his grip on the shoulder and pulled the noble toward him. And that was when Bard caught the view of his head. Dark, almost navy blue hair, light skin, eye patch…

Holy mother of…

"Master Ciel?"

Hearing his own name, he turned his head to face his right only to see his former chef. Despite the offensive action that the man was executing upon him, his anger was somewhat extinguished by relief. At least his mission seemed to go somewhere.

"Bard," he muttered slowly, trying to get his shoulder out of the strong hold. This only happened when the blonde American yelled.

"Hey, get your hands off of him, you plump bastard!"

"What did you call me, you-?"

"Yeah, that's right. I called you fat!"

His fist instantly clenched and swung towards the blue-eyed boy's face. But it never got there. Sebastian grasped it easily with his gloved hand. He was a hell of a butler, alright.

"I believe it is not safe to be drunk during business hours, Sir. More so when dealing with a noble." He reprimanded. How the heck does he stay so calm?

"Why, you little-" were the last words heard from the restaurant's owner before he fell asleep and fell down to the ground. But he did not just fall asleep on his own. Sebastian had to push his two fingers on the side of his neck to make him lose consciousness.

Ciel stood up straight and cleared his throat. He walked towards the cook who was still staring at his knocked out boss.

Okay! Yay! I didn't really mean to make this chapter long. But yeah, I just took my time overviewing what happened to the different characters in the three years when Ciel was gone. In another person's perspective.

Oh, and you don't have to read this but...

I am so pissed off and dismayed right now. You know why? Because of American Idol. :((

Yeah, I know. It's really random. But seriously though! I can't believe Jessica Sanchez lost to Phillip Phillips! No offence to those Phillip fans and all but, come on. I like him but… let's be honest to ourselves here. The girl was clearly a better singer than the dude. ANYWAY.

Thanks for reading! I'm sorry if this chapter was a little boring. Please review! :D