No, we are not dead! We are so sorry it took us this long to do this chapter. No excuses, we simply… Yeah… But here it is! We can't promise you that the next chapter will come out quickly, but it shouldn't take as long as it did for this one to get ready. Hopefully it will be longer as well… Enjoy~

Disclaimer: We do not own Kuroshitsuji… We are but humble fans, having a bit of fun with our twisted imaginations…

Ciel couldn't help but frown slightly as he stepped back into his mansion; the smell of curry battling against the odour of Madame Red's corpse that still lingered in the young boy's nostrils. Both battled each other, the winner gaining a home in Ciel Phantomhive's body, while the loser would become a simple memory. The laughter coming from the kitchen did little to help his nausea, and with a weary sigh, the boy made his way to the sitting room, not entertaining the idea of going up the stairs only to come down again for dinner in a few minutes.

One cerulean eye stared straight ahead, though it saw nothing. Ciel's mind was far away, gears turning as the information was processed, carried, from one room to another, being analysed by the thousands of Ciel Phantomhive's that had resided there inside. The dead coming back to life... What a ridiculous idea. Had someone suggested such a thing during the previous week, Ciel would have laughed in their face and asked Sebastian to kindly escort said person to the nearest asylum; the living dead was a far-fetched thing even for those who had dealt with demons and grim reapers.

Yet the proof was there, not a few feet away from where he sat: his parents, both burned to death, laughing with the idiotic prince who Ciel trusted his mansion to. Their bodies were not scarred, neither had they aged. Their memories were still intact, their intelligence not lacking or exceeding what it had previously been. Sebastian had already confirmed that those indeed were Vincent and Rachel, not some doubles or underworld creature that could obtain the memories of any person. That meant that they... those things were man made. Somehow, someone was able to cheat death and bring back those long gone. And now it was Ciel's mission to put them six feet under once again, exactly where they belonged.

Even so, questions still roamed through his mind; how do you kill that which is already dead? If he shot those standing in the kitchen, would they die again? Would they simply lie on the floor and then stand up once more, just like he had seen Sebastian do countless times? And if it did work, what could Ciel do to guarantee they would not return another time? No, that would be a waste of time. As much as it irritated him, he would have to keep Vincent and Rachel alive, at least until they found out what made them return. Not to mention they were still the only lead he had.

But why them? Why them and not Madame Red, or any number of the enemies Ciel had stolen the last breath from? The possibility of all the returnees being random was not something he was willing to consider. No, it would be too much of a coincidence for both his parents to come back to life. That could only mean they were targeting Ciel. Why? Maybe because they knew he was the Queen's Watchdog. Yes... That made sense. Someone from the underworld then, someone who knew the real duties of Earl Phantomhive, was responsible for all this. A distraction, perhaps? In hopes of keeping the dog distracted, they threw him a nice toy, while at the same time mixing many scents. Yes... Good... Making sense of a senseless situation, that was what he could do. Compartmentalize, take away the personal aspects, make Vincent and Rachel just another case study.

So, conclusion: Someone from London's underworld – almost certainly, as the returnees were restricted to London – desired to bring someone back from the dead. However, that person was not just some commoner, but someone who wouldn't have gone unnoticed. So it was necessary to bring more than their one desired person back. Muddy the waters and make themselves a statistic rather than an anomaly. And it was someone who knew about Ciel's role, knew enough that he would be assigned to the case, and brought back his parents to try and unbalance him.

Ciel wasn't sure whether to smirk or scowl. Either way, things were getting interesting.

His Master was looking pensive, having claimed his place at the head of the table and driving Vincent to the seat on his right. Vincent didn't look much perturbed at the loss of what must to him have seemed his rightful place. Rather, he looked earnest, attempting to engage his son in between bites of the dinner Agni had prepared. Unsurprisingly, Ciel was proving less than responsive. Or rather, his answers were short, simple, completely polite... Not at all how one would expect a child of thirteen to treat his long lost parents.

It was a heartening sight, it had to be said. For all Ciel's bluster, Sebastian was not blind to the wrinkle between his brows and the uncertainty in his expression whenever he looked at his parents. That uncertainty was a line in the sand that he couldn't be allowed to cross. Sebastian would ensure he did not.

Rachel had joined the effort to get Ciel to take part in the conversation, prodding him to eat his mostly untouched food, even brushing a bit of lint off the shoulder of his jacket. It would have been amusing – the embarrassed flush that rose to Ciel's cheeks, his spluttered order for her to stop fussing at his clothes – were it not for the too long pause. As though he had to remind himself that he was supposed to be bothered by her actions.

Ciel finally noticed his presence by the door. He tensed, and something almost wary flickered over his face. If nothing else, at least he seemed to be aware that the moment had been distasteful. He was visibly uncomfortable that Sebastian had apparently witnessed it. Good.

"If you'll excuse me, I have work to be getting back to." Ciel stood, ignoring Rachel's objection, striding over to Sebastian's side. The two left the room swiftly and made their way in silence to Ciel's office. The silence only lasted as long as the door took to shut. "What took you so long? You've been gone half the day."

"The issue is more wide-spread than we had believed. I was only being certain to be thorough." Sebastian gave a saccharine sweet smile. "How did your own errand fare?"

Ciel didn't give him the frown he was so clearly baiting. "Fine. Everything is as it should be. What did you find?"

Sebastian made to place the bag he was carrying, not that Ciel had seen it in his hand before that moment, upon the desk. Ciel stopped him with an outstretched hand.

"Young Master?"

"I'm going to be perfectly clear this time, so there won't be any unfortunate communication errors; I want you to sort through the documents in those bags and select the most likely leads based on the family members of the returned. From both the surface and the underworld." Ciel was fairly certain there was no loophole in his words, and from the look of boredom on Sebastian's face, he was right.

It didn't take long, though nothing ever took Sebastian all that long anyway. Soon enough, the flood of papers that had spilled from the bag were sorted into neat little piles, and it was only three files that Sebastian presented to him on his desk.

"Factoring in extended family, inter-familial relations between the relatives, any possible links to the occult, and recognized criminal records, these are the cases that I believe would be worth closer examination," Sebastian explained dutifully, sliding the files across the wood. "While I do think there is weight to your theory that our culprit is of a high-standing family, and two of these follow that line of thought, I suggest that you don't dismiss the third lead out of hand. Considering his … proclivities, it may be beneficial to take him into consideration."

"Indeed..." Ciel agreed, his nose wrinkling slightly as he read the files "While his... preferences, are unethical to say the least, it does deserve some looking into." His gaze lifted slightly towards the demon butler, "But I doubt we will find anything. He seems to prefer his partners just as they were before this whole ordeal started: cold and with no pulse."

"That would be what one would expect of a necrophiliac," the demon agreed.

"Possible necrophiliac," Ciel corrected, "Let's not forget, the evidence never linked together well enough for anything to come of it." He shook his head, snorting. "What is so appealing about the dead, Sebastian?"

"I wouldn't know, Young Master." The smirk on Sebastian's lips would have sent chills down a lesser man's spine. "I prefer my meals warm."

"Obviously, but as someone who has lived for so long, I would imagine boredom is unavoidable. Certainly you have experimented with these kind of things before." The smirk dropped from Sebastian's face, and was on the young Earl's. Sharp tongued remarks were his way of reminding the demon who was the superior being; the one who had had no fear of Hell even at the tender age of ten. It mattered not what had occurred in the dining room a few minutes prior; Ciel was still the Master in this room. "Regardless, let's not worry so much about this one for now. I would prefer to start this investigation with -"

Ciel's eye widened in surprised, then his face morphed into a distasteful sneer. While he massaged his temples, Ciel shoved the file he had been reading aside.

"Is there something the matter, Young Master?"

"Why am I not surprised," he picked up the picture attached to the pushed aside file and passed it to Sebastian, "That he is one of our leads."

Sebastian frowned as well. While usually the expression on Ciel's face would have amused him to no end, he had to admit that even he wasn't too thrilled about dealing with that man.

"Well sir, Viscount Druitt has shown some connections to the occult, as was proven in the Jack the Ripper case."

"He has connections with everything," the boy said with a snort, "He always finds a way to appear in my investigations, always there, wasting my time, or just plain beinghimself."

"Yes, the Viscount's personality is a tad bit... bothersome. And he does seem to always end up in your way, Young Master."

"Which is exactly why we are going to leave him for last," Ciel concluded, "I'D rather not deal with him until absolutely necessary, and whenever he turned up as a lead in previous cases, it was always a dead end. Let's not waste our time with this man."

"Of course."

"We'll start with him," Ciel said, giving the file to Sebastian, "Duke Harcourt."

Soma had excused himself to his bedroom a little over an hour ago, but Vincent and Rachel lingered in the dining room, hands joined and fingers laced together beneath the table they had sat at so many times before. However this was not his chair, Vincent thought once again that evening, this was not his place. That seat was far too large for his son, the weight of its meaning larger for him still.

Rachel squeezed his hand tighter.

"He still gets so easily flustered," she observed, like it was a consolation. Maybe it was for her. It did little to console Vincent, not when Ciel had seemed to flee from them only moments later. He wasn't letting himself relax with them, Vincent knew for certain now, and he seemed to find nothing but alarm when he realized that he had. Ciel wasn't easily flustered, his reaction had had nothing to do with them and everything to do with himself, his unwillingness to slip back into their care.

It would have been easier than breathing, so Ciel would hold his breath until he was blue in the face. Like father, like son.

A creak shattered their pensive silence as the dining room door was pushed open, the butler slipping into the room. As late as it was, a while since Ciel had gone to sleep surely, his butler was still working dutifully. He gave them a closed-mouth smile, dark eyes bright in the glow of the candlestick he held. It unsettled Vincent, the look he was given, though there was nothing but polite deference there.

"The manor is awfully cold at night. If you plan on staying up for a while longer, I have prepared the library for you. The fire is lit and you'll find some refreshments there." Nothing but the best of manners there, but Vincent rankled nonetheless. It would have been better if the butler was outright disrespectful, at least poor at his work, some legitimate reason for Vincent to be finding it so difficult to warm up to him.

Vincent didn't remember the manor being this cold at night.

"Thank you, Michaelis -"

"Sebastian is fine, sir."

"We know the way, Michaelis. You may retire for the night. Thank you."

The butler seemed surprised for a moment, but only a moment, giving them a slow nod and turning to leave without another word. Rachel's grip on his hand had tightened in a silent reprimand. When Vincent gave no indication that he had noticed, she slipped free from his grip and stood.

"Sebastian, a word, please? If you're not too busy." Rachel had dressed herself in her formality, her impenetrable armour, and Vincent felt abashed for his own loss of composure. For all that he had been born into this sort of life, it was Rachel who had been groomed for their ways, their rules, and she knew how to play the game so well.

"Of course, my Lady." Sebastian walked back towards them, stopping a respectful distance away and dipping his head.

"I don't believe my husband and I have thanked you for all you've done for Ciel," Rachel stated, lacing her own fingers together in front of her, something she only did to stop herself fidgeting. Her imagination was so vivid, one of the first things Vincent had loved about her, but it was a double-edged sword at times like these. No doubt she was replaying Ciel's words in her mind, torturing herself with visions of what happened to him. He wanted to take her hand in his again, anchor her, but not now, not when she was playing her role.

"It went without saying," Sebastian replied simply.

"But let it be said nonetheless – thank you." Rachel inclined her head, both deference and respect in the gesture, and Sebastian looked a little surprised. It must have been surprising, for someone of her status to do so for a servant, but Rachel always had been full of surprises.

"You are more than welcome," Sebastian responded after a long pause, "But if it is for the Young Master, then I need no thanks. I am only too happy to follow him."

And Vincent realized then, that it was not any problem on Sebastian's part that had his hackles rising, but nothing more than jealousy turning his own thanks to ashes in his mouth. Because it should have been him, not this stranger, to have saved his son and brought him home, to have watched him grow these past three years. Shouldn't it have been enough, Vincent wondered, that Ciel was safe and sound, regardless of who had been the one to make it so? Why couldn't he thank the butler as sincerely as Rachel could, instead of being bitter that Ciel would speak so easily to the butler but give his own father such a cold reception.

The words fought him, but Vincent forced them out with as much sincerity as he could muster, "Thank you, Sebastian."

Maybe, in due time, he would mean it.