The cold autumn air chilled Ciel's bones as he walked, his buckled shoes clacking against the cobblestone pavement. It didn't feel like nine o'clock in the morning. The sun barely shone through the misty grey, only providing just enough light to show that the tenacious leaves that still clung to the branches of the trees that lined the streets were, indeed, brown.

The district seemed deserted. Unlike the other areas the duo had passed through, there were no bustling cafes or busy shops. Each establishment they walked by was locked and dark.

Something out of the corner of Ciel's eye attracted his attention: bright, colourful advertisements were posted neatly on the side of one of the buildings depicting dancing women, laughing patrons and a tall crimson structure in the background. Each poster seemed to depict a different woman: one with rosy cheeks and soft brown ringlets; one with half-lidded blue eyes and full lips; and one with golden hair and a small mole by the corner of her mouth.

"What are those?" Ciel asked as he gestured to the posters.

Sebastian followed his gaze, tilting his head to the side curiously. "They appear to be advertising one of the establishments in the area," he murmured as they approached for a closer look. "From context, it appears the place is known as the Phare Rose."

"The Red Lighthouse?" Ciel translated, suddenly perking up.

"Pink," Sebastian corrected, and Ciel huffed as he rolled his eye. "Though I can imagine that, in the dark of night, such a rich colour may appear that way."

Ciel pursed his lips in thought. "It's a start," he muttered. "Take them with us."

"Yes, sir," Sebastian answered, tearing the posters from the wall with such precision it was as if they hadn't been glued there.

"What are you doing?" a voice snapped from behind them.

Ciel glanced up at Sebastian as they turned around, his mind racing as he mentally translated the language.

The girl in front of them couldn't have been much older than Ciel himself. Her dress was ill-fitting and too mature for her, and her dark shawl was tattered with several small holes. Her bushy brown hair was pulled back out of her face, which was spotted with dark freckles, and her bony white hands gripped a basket of individual fresh flowers.

"Do you…know about this place?" Ciel asked stiffly as he pointed to the poster in Sebastian's hands, regretting not paying more attention in his French lessons.

"Of course," the girl scoffed. "Who hasn't heard of the most famous cabaret in the city?"

Ciel did his best to hide his confusion as he tilted his head upwards to whisper to Sebastian. "Cabaret?" he repeated, hoping for a explanation for the one word he didn't understand.

Sebastian seemed just as perplexed as he was. He shook his head slowly.

"Do you know about…" — Ciel struggled for the right words — "the girls whose minds are…gone?"

The brunette raised an eyebrow as an amused smile tugged at her lips. "What?"

"The amnesia victims," Sebastian clarified, and Ciel felt his face grow warm with a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

The flower-seller's smile fell. "I knew a few of them," she muttered. "Plenty of girls end up working in a place like this for a better life for their families. They were bright and hardworking until they gave up."

"What do you mean?" Ciel asked as the brunette glanced at the poster again.

She pursed her lips and wrapped her shawl tighter around herself. "If you're not going to buy anything I'll be on my way."

Ciel's gaze followed her bony frame up to her sunken freckled face, refusing to acknowledge the pang in his chest as a myriad of similarly starved faces flashed through his mind. "Buy them all," he ordered.

Sebastian smiled gently as he handed money to the flower-seller, returning with a hefty bouquet of purple and white blooms wrapped in newspaper.

They watched as the girl lowered her head and stalked away, muttering something about the English under her breath.

"Have you thought of our next step?" Sebastian asked softly once she was out of earshot.

Ciel looked down at the posters again. "She seemed nervous to talk about this place," he muttered. "It isn't much, but it's all we have to go on at the moment. We'll come back tonight."

Sebastian nodded. "I will begin preparations immediately."

XXXXXXX

Ciel shrugged uncomfortably as he folded his arms. The poor-quality fabric of his shirt scratched at his sensitive skin, but he would just have to put up with it. If he wanted his common disguise to work, he wasn't allowed to complain.

The streets of Pigalle were much livelier than they had been earlier that morning. Crowds of people pushed past Ciel, stumbling out of one bar and into another. Even the street lamps seemed to breathe new life into the buildings, illuminating colourful advertisements and signs, but Ciel couldn't be distracted. He had one destination; and if he wanted to be on time, he would need to pick up the pace.

The Phare Rose did, indeed, live up to its name. Atop a large, multi-level building stood a proud model of a lighthouse painted in shades of dark pink; though, the parts of the structure not under the lights' projection could definitely be misconstrued as red. Music and laughter could be heard from inside, and Ciel moved closer toward the entrance, though he stopped dead in his tracks as his plan seemed to unravel entirely.

Sebastian was easy to spot in his black woollen coat, standing by one of the brick walls, just out of sight of anyone placed at the door.

Ciel kept his head lowered as he approached. "What happened?" he hissed, turning to lean his back against the cold wall. "You were supposed to meet me inside."

"It seems they are at capacity for the night, sir," the demon murmured quietly, his dark eyes scanning the streets.

"They…didn't let you in?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you've just been standing here the whole time?"

Sebastian nodded, his gaze moving from the street up to the tops of the surrounding buildings, scanning those as well.

Ciel followed his line of sight, frowning. "What are you looking at?"

"This place…" Sebastian murmured distantly. "It creates an odd feeling in my stomach."

The young earl stared up at him, not bothering to hide the confused grimace that pulled at his face. "Get a hold of yourself," he muttered, turning to look back up at the pink lighthouse. "Have you at least managed to work out what a cabaret is?"

Sebastian cleared his throat, forcing himself to look down at his master. "Judging from noise alone, it seems to be a place for women to entertain. Most of the customers appear to be men."

Ciel gulped as more memories of a grim reaper with long red hair flashed through his head. "Prostitutes again, huh?" he mumbled.

"Not necessarily," Sebastian replied. "It seems to be mostly singing and dancing like a music hall, though I will admit the lyrics are quite risqué."

Sighing, Ciel shoved his hands into his pockets as he began to stalk down the cobblestone street. "There's no use loitering around," he muttered as he walked. "We'll find other leads tomorrow."

Sebastian followed silently behind him, unable to shake the sensation of the hairs standing on the back of his neck and the warm feeling bubbling in his chest.