Hello, my Lovelies!

I honestly can't express how happy I am to have finished this chapter before Christmas. I'm still fairly under the weather and my writing heart isn't at full strength but I'm trying to get back in the swing of things. You are all so utterly wonderful. I've gotten so much support from a bunch of you and well wishes and I'm incredibly thankful.

I'm not gonna lie.. when I started writing this I had a lot of my ideas planned out and set in stone. Not a lot of that has changed, it's mostly been minor things here or there that I added in the spur of the moment, but at the time, I really liked Alois. I have come to realize, after rewatching some of the anime, that I really don't like a major portion of his character. At all. I think his story is great and he's got a unique style, but I lost a lot of my love for him. With that, I've also realized that my version of him is incredibly OOC, and I'm super sorry for that if you're a big fan of his original personality. I've tried to tone it down and make him more likable while also keeping him changeable and not so easily predicted but he is still pretty different from the canon version. So, sorry for that x.x

Also! Even though I'm not writing as rapidly as I usually do, I've started to go back and revise previous chapters. I've obviously started at the beginning and WHEW, my writing is a lot different now. Way better lol So, I'm going to start replacing the chapters with the revised versions. Not sure if that shows up in emails for those of you that have this story favorited and followed, but I thought I'd give you all a heads up regardless.

Anyway, this is getting kinda lengthy for an author's note so I'll wrap it up but I just wanna say, again, how thankful I am for all of you sticking with me and showing support by fav/following, reviewing and dropping me PMs. I hope you all like this chapter!

Love,

Majix

Even be fore the near gravitational shift in Ciel's life, the blue haired male had loathed crowds.

They were good for distraction, helpful when one needed to escape quickly with the surest chance of getting lost among a sea of people, but aside from that, the teen found little else helpful or positive about them. He would've liked to believe that the opinion stemmed only from his brief removal from society and the trauma he experienced before the eyes of his captors, but the truth was that even as a child, Ciel shied away from large gatherings of people. On the rare occasion when Phantomhive Manor was made to host the luxurious balls of society, he'd never strayed far from his parents, preferring to linger within their shadows away from the curious eyes of his elders. In truth, it wasn't even the mass of people that bothered the boy, but rather the looks that accompanied them.

With his family name came the sort of attention that Ciel had always found to be uncomfortable.

As a child he hadn't yet known the truth about why people so blatantly stared at him, or his father, it was just something that happened, but after the fire and the torture and the contract, the teen began to learn the reasoning behind it.

During his childhood they stared because his parents were important and he'd been seen very little outside of brief glimpses around London. When he grew a bit older, they looked on because the members of upper class society were curious as to what kind of heir the Earl of Phantomhive had sired, trying to gauge from a distance what kind of man he would become. Upon his return, they stared because he was a supposed miracle, because the details surrounding his disappearance were murky at best, and because with his return came something subconsciously unholy and unexplained. But with his rebirth, and the rekindled nature of his expected duty came looks borne of something else altogether. He quickly discovered why people whispered, why they looked to him with poorly disguised distrust and weary expressions. The Phantomhive name was layered with the secrets of his predecessors, Ciel's father included, and despite having been groomed upon birth to eventually carry on the legacy, the blue haired Earl still found the looks associated with his title distasteful.

` That wasn't to say that the youth was bothered in the least by the things he did under the order of the Queen, because he wasn't. There was no room in his heart for disgust or shame in his actions. Rather, he found the ever watchful eyes of his peers unpleasant on the principle of ignorance. Though in undeniably high standing among society, the young aristocrat was still judged rather harshly by those around him, regardless of the fact that he was responsible for keeping the darkness from crawling to far out from under London's unsavory underbelly.

That distaste had, unfortunately, not stayed confined to societal balls or high society gatherings. The discomfort had begun there certainly, born under the frustration of always being stared at but somewhere along the way, it'd morphed into an undeniable hatred of being surrounded by the clueless sheep that made up the majority of their society.

In truth, the dark haired youth should have been used to the eyes of others trailing after him, but this was something different altogether. The people wandering the Circus didn't watch him because he was feared or because of his standing in society, these people watched him because he was new. Their eyes followed him unabashed, hungrily seeking out signs of weakness, looking on with unmasked curiosity, and in some cases, staring just for the art of staring. It was unnerving, to be looked at in such a way when he wasn't known to be a being of terrifying consequence and, not for the first time that morning, Ciel wished that Sebastian was beside him rather than the annoying blonde who refused to stop talking.

The black clad butler unconsciously made people nervous, made them feel the need to look away and though many probably assumed that was because of his beauty, Ciel knew that it had more to do with his demonic nature than it did his looks. Where the Earl was unable to cow people with his position, Sebastian was able to do it with a single glance of his crimson eyes. It'd always been something that the boy liked about having his butler constantly present alongside him, and the teen was unafraid to admit that he missed it.

That, and Alois was probably one of the most obnoxious beings that he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting.

The blonde's mouth never seemed to stop moving. All he did was talk, constantly blathering on about the things going on in his head or pointing out unhelpful information about the people that passed along beside them. Normally, the level-headed teen would've just tuned him out, walking alongside the brat fully submerged within his own thoughts but due to the unknown factor the blonde represented, that was no longer an option. There was always the possibility that he'd let something slip, that he'd actually give out helpful information and though Ciel was nearly positive that wouldn't happen, he couldn't afford to miss it on the off chance that it occurred.

All and all, walking through the Circus alongside Alois was becoming frustrating on an ungodly level, and considering all the shenanigans the Earl had to deal with at the manor when his servants were feeling particularly destructive, that was saying something.

Eventually, after walking around the close knit clusters of tents for what felt like an age, Alois came to a stop among a group of individuals that the Earl didn't recognize. They were all young, sitting on overturned buckets in a circle, little knives clutched in their fingers, pealing potatoes.

Upon their arrival, one of the on site helpers looked up, flashing the blonde at his side a wide smile that had to many teeth to be anything but genuine, "Oi! We was abou' to go lookin' for yeh, Blondie! Can' have 'ou slackin' on stuff that needs doin'!"

Giggles crossed the lips of those surrounding the male who'd spoken but to the Earl's astonishment, Alois said nothing. There was no witty comeback or high pitched laugh, only a raised eyebrow and an extended open palm that demanded a pair of knives, which was given with surprising promptness. The boy tipped his head and slunk away from the group without so much as a single word, settling down just outside of their hearing range with his own overturned pail and a stack of unpeeled starch. It was confusing, that much Ciel could admit. The entire journey from their tent, Alois had forced unwanted information into his ears, completely disregarding the fact that the blue haired teen hadn't shown an ounce of interest the entire time and yet when he was spoken to, by people who clearly knew and interacted with him on a more regular basis, the blonde hadn't bothered with even the most basic response.

Curious eyes watched as the frustrating boy pulled a potato from the pile, pressing the sharpened edge of the knife to its skin, guiding the blade with a familiarity that spoke volumes. Alois' sky blue eyes stared at the curling brown ribbon as he continued to push the steel along, the glossy surface of his gaze dulled with thought and as Ciel watched him become absorbed in the task, he couldn't help but to wonder just who this mysterious person was, and what he had to do with everything circling just beyond the Earl's reach.

"Don't just stand there, pull up a seat and help me peel."

The statement was made without the slightest glimpse of the person he'd found so exasperating only moments before. It was a radical shift, one of startling proportions that made little to no sense but with the limited amount of information he had to work with, Ciel chose to store the budding question away rather than try and pour over it without hope of an answer. Rather, the teen did as he was told. He grabbed a bucket, flipped it upside down and plopped down on it, nearly falling over in the process.

The wood was thin, wet from its time on the ground and slightly off kilter, but the dark haired Earl paid that no mind. Instead, he took the knife Alois offered and grabbed a potato from their pile, looking at it with carefully concealed weariness. Ciel knew his way around a knife, knew the correct angle at which to sharpen one, knew how to conceal one and use it for both escape and attack, knew how to take one apart if need be but up until that point, he'd never used one to skin anything. Those sort of things were usually left to Sebastian, the boy's pride nearly always to set in stone to stoop to the level of servant's work.

In this particular instance, Ciel wished that he would've paid a bit more attention to the many times Sebastian peeled his apples, or his oranges, his peacock style pride crying out in shrill indignation at the mere idea of appearing unskilled before the eyes of his would-be opponent, even in a task as meaningless as peeling starch.

Hesitant fingers gripped the knife's handle, a bit tighter than strictly necessary if Ciel was being honest, and brought the blade up, edging it across the potatoes surface. It was more difficult than he'd originally assumed, not because the skin was tough or the knife was dull but because the amount of pressure to add for the result he wanted was knowledge acquired through experience. Ciel nearly flinched when the sharp strip of metal slid past the skin and into the flesh, the undeniable gouge making the teen want to swear. The Earl hoped that, after a few strokes, he'd find a rhythm, a steadiness of hand that'd be sufficient enough to allow his pride to save face but, unfortunately for Ciel, that was not the case,

Each brush of the blade stripped the potatoes earth covered skin with amateur precision, taking large chunks of the starch's flesh with it, making his once round object appear lopsided and choppy.

"Bloody 'ell, Smile! 's a potato, no' a whittlin' stick!"

Ciel looked up in startled surprise, the briefest flash of hurt flickering across his face as he caught sight of the boy from earlier, standing above him with faux-superiority as he laughed at the teen's first attempt. It was simple, something that shouldn't have bothered him at all considering the nature of his work and what it required of him. But, for some reason that Ciel couldn't be bothered to understand, the boy's mocking tone sent a jolt of disappointment through his veins. Regardless, as quickly as the vulnerability appeared, it was gone, replaced by pride driven anger. The Earl's fingers clenched around the knife's handle, turning his knuckles pale as the offended teen fought to keep his features blank.

"Black said something about making fish and chips." The two boys, Ciel included, looked towards Alois as he spoke, watching as he peeled thick strips of the white starchy flesh from the edges of his current potato, "That's why we didn't sit with you guys, so that our potato strips wouldn't mix."

It was all Ciel could do to keep his features schooled in a blank slate of indifference as he watched Alois absolutely ruin the potato he'd been working on, driving the knife in deep and dropping the chunked slices into the pile for no reason other than to defend.

The unnamed boy above them appeared sheepish, an embarrassed flush of color turning his cheeks rosy as he rubbed the back of his neck self consciously, "Oops,"

The boy looked like he wanted to say something else, to apologize in some way perhaps, but he couldn't seem to find the words. Instead, he stood there awkwardly, looking to Alois only to be waved off with an annoyed flourish of his hand.

Apparently grateful for the provided exit, the annoying boy went back to his group of friends, leaving Ciel to very nearly stare at the teen across from him. The enigmatic blonde hadn't even bothered to look up from his current project, paying more attention to the once more smooth strokes of his blade.

After realizing that Alois had no intention of explaining, the blue haired Earl couldn't hold his tongue a moment longer, his curiosity finally getting the better of him, "Why did you do that?"

Swift and steady movements paused, the silver strip of metal half way through the curled strand of potato skin, "He was rude."

Ciel's mismatched eyes widened at the simply spoken reasoning. It was strange in a way, to hear such a blunt answer without first having to manipulate. In his line of work, information was never given freely, and nobody ever acted in his favor without a reason, something that they could gain by doing so. It was entirely possible that the blonde teen had spoken up merely to build a foundation of trust to use at a later time, but the more that Ciel stared at the silently focused teen, watching him single-mindedly peel potatoes, the more the teen disregarded the thought.

The inability to wrap his mind around the action must have shown on the Earl's face because eventually Alois glanced up at him. It'd been masked before, carefully hidden away behind the annoying face he presented earlier but now that Ciel was looking into his face, really looking, he could see the tension in that gaze, an unnamed sort of conflict that was only visible to those that lived a certain life style, participated in a very different type of espionage. It was well-hidden anger behind the false notions of budding friendship and in that instant, Ciel knew that whatever was building between them was incredibly personal. Regardless of his involvement, it had nothing to do with the circus, of that much the Earl was sure. Not to say that Alois was incapable to being involved in the kidnappings, but Ciel doubted it. For whatever reason, the blonde youth was there for Ciel and Ciel alone, and though the threat was very real, the Earl couldn't help but to wonder what he'd done to warrant such loathing.

Information in itself was a type of currency and due to his role in the world around them, Ciel tried to stay as informed as possible. When sent after somebody, the Earl took special care to learn about them, to figure out who was in their life and what sort of lengths the people surrounding his target may be willing to go to for revenge. That on its own was valuable, but if Ciel had learned anything over the course of his quest to gather intel, it was that the world was very small. People were connected to others of importance by the most simplistic threads, threads that may seem insignificant or not worth mentioning but proved to be more of a bother than originally anticipated.

It wouldn't be the first time that a scorned sister nobody knew about or some other such person had sought revenge for whatever the Earl had been tasked to do, but even then, he usually wasn't ignorant of his attackers motives. Ciel usually knew why he was being targeted, what he did to deserve their hatred, but when he looked into the blonde's emotionally blank face, Ciel found himself coming up empty. He couldn't think of a single thing that he'd done to this boy, couldn't remember killing anybody that looked terribly similar to the angry teen or any other such offense. It was a mystery, and Ciel found himself hoping that he'd eventually get a story out of it.

Normally, the villainous monologue was the Earl's least favorite part. That had more to do with the fact that by the time he arrived, the teen usually knew the intentions behind whatever act he was tasked with stopping, or at least incredibly close to the reasoning, but with Alois, Ciel was completely in the dark. The young Phantomhive didn't have a single inkling of an idea as to why Alois apparently hated him, or why he sought vengeance.

Beyond even that though, the blonde had gone to a lot of trouble to rectify whatever had been done to him.

Being involved with something so nasty that a loose end decided to sell their soul to a demon just to get revenge was something that Ciel thought he would've remembered and in an unconscious burst of genuine curiosity Ciel spoke without a filter, 'What exactly did I do to you?"

Thick waves of tension immediately began pouring off the blonde, his blade slipping right into the thickest portion of the potato's flesh, sticking there for the moment before Alois jerked it free, his eyes narrowing a fraction as he continued on with his work, "I'm just trying to focus."

It could've been argued that Ciel was merely referring to the silent treatment and the sudden stand-offish nature of the teen's shift in attitude, but they both knew that it wasn't, "You know that's not what I'm talking about."

Ciel watched as Alois tightened his grip on the knife, his lips thinned in barely suppressed anger, eyes narrowing just a fraction. He would probably appear annoyed to anybody that wasn't well versed in the knowledge of masked emotion, frustrated by the boy speaking to him, but the blue haired Earl could see right through that, down to the bare bones of the carefully concealed rage bubbling just below the blonde's surface.

Neither of them were who they presented themselves to be, and both parties involved knew that. Alois wasn't just some kid traveling with the circus, and neither was Ciel, but apparently, despite knowing that there was something else entirely going on between them, neither teen, Alois especially, was willing to face it head on and just get the conflict done and over with. It was, apparently, a dance that both parties had now committed themselves to, acknowledging that neither facade was real but unwilling to step into the skin of their real selves to resolve the issue.

It would be an inquisition that could only be discovered through the shadows and the subtext of their interactions.

In a startling display of emotional shift, Alois flashed the dark haired aristocrat a bright and sunshiny smile, the underlying fury once present in his gaze disappearing entirely as he happily went back to peeling and slicing potatoes, chattering aimlessly into the air that'd once held silence between them, appearing as if nothing had ever happened, "I'm starving! Honestly can't wait for breakfast this morning. Hopefully they'll fry up somethin' tasty, eh Smile?"

Alois nudged him playfully, starting to hum between segments of chatter as he worked his way through the ever dwindling pile of starch that they were supposed to be peeling. Ciel, bewildered by the polar shift, just sat there quietly, doing his best not to whittle away all the edible part, occasionally glancing over to size up the mysterious boy beside him.

For the most part, nothing of significance was said between them. Alois did most of the talking with Ciel interjecting every once and a while to throw out a snide comment or some meaningless response. It was strangely comfortable and that acknowledgment alone left the Earl feeling much more weary than any of their previous encounters, second only to the painfully screaming feeling of déjà vu he'd felt when he first laid eyes on Alois next to his demon companion.

However, as their pile began to dwindle, the nature of their interactions became more subdued,

The blonde across from him wasn't nearly as chatty, and Ciel himself became more inclined to linger within his own thoughts, backtracking across various tasks he'd received from the Queen in the hopes that he might uncover something he'd missed in relation to Alois. To his annoyance though, there was nothing, nothing that stuck out in any way to give him a clue as to why he was being targeted. Part of the Earl had begun to wonder if, perhaps, it had nothing to do with him at all. Maybe his father was responsible for whatever happened and Alois wasn't after him personally at all, but rather the Phantomhive family in general. That seemed a bit far fetched considering how old they both were and the startling intensity of the other teen's anger but Ciel didn't discard the thought. Sometimes the need for revenge was all consuming, undiminished by time.

As he sat deep in thought, Ciel's hands moved with near startling unconsciousness, mirroring Alois in the way that he peeled the skins away from the desired white body and it wasn't until the blonde spoke up once again that Ciel snapped from his partial trance, looking up with a calm and confused hmm.

"Your first time?"

Ciel's brows knit together as he tried to recall the last thing they'd been talking about but the teen came up slightly empty, "My first time what?"

The blonde snickered, dropping yet another perfectly curled skin into their discard bucket, "Is this your first time peeling potatoes?"

In an unconscious response, the blue haired teen's cheeks darkened a few shades. He wanted to lie, to venomously deny it but considering what Alois probably knew about him and his life, Ciel saw no reason to. Not that he was willing to vocalize that. The Earl merely dipped his head in agreement, briefly meeting the sky blue eyes of his companion before looking back down at the partially peeled object in his hand.

To his surprise though, the potato was nearly perfect. There weren't harsh lines carved into the flesh, no obvious signs of awkward strokes. It looked nearly identical to Alois', nothing like the one he started on.

Alois smirked a bit before his grin softened around the edges, becoming something more honest and genuine that had the Earl's full attention, "Nobody is great the first time. Should have seen my first try. It was so lopsided, a real mess and I ended up throwing away more of the edible part than I saved."

Alois laughed, but the sound held a dark undertone, something laced with grief and mourning and Ciel couldn't help but to wonder what'd happened that made the memory such a melancholy one but before he could think on that any further, Alois continued, "There's something dangerous in trying new things, opening yourself up for potential failure. These are just potatoes, nothing all that risky but we both know that you loathe to expose weakness of any kind. I was honestly surprised that you decided to attempt it at all." Alois stood, stretching his arms up above his head before wiping his dirty fingers across the material on his thighs, "That's why I lied to that boy."

Light blue eyes cast a look over to the group behind them, his gaze landing on the red haired boy that'd mocked the Earl's initial progress, "It isn't about how you start. It's about how you finish."

Alois' gaze dropped from the boy down to the near perfectly skinned potato in the dumbstruck teen's hands before he turned away, casting a short look over his shoulder,"I'm going to head towards the mess hall, would you mind taking those to the kitchens? I'll save you a seat."

Without thinking about it, Ciel nodded, feeling startled and the slightest bit dazed as he watched the older teen walk away without looking back. It wasn't what he'd expected, Alois wasn't what he expected and as Ciel watched him disappear, he knew without a doubt that caution would have to be exercised where that boy was concerned. There was more to him than what was shown on the surface and as the dark haired teen dropped his perfectly peeled starch into the bucket, he couldn't help but to feel the addicting rush of real thrill. True excitement at the idea of an opponent not so easily bested flooded the boy's senses and, with that, he stood from his perch, allowing a coy grin to darken his features as he hauled up the heavy bucket and went in search of his demonic aid.