Those Gentle Slopes that Lead to Hell

by Severus divides into H

Proud. Unique. Determined. From the second Sebastian sensed Ciel Phantomhive's soul, he realized their contract would be different. He was ready for it. And so he waits. He hungers. He is getting obsessed. He will do anything to devour this soul, and the fragile attachment to the boy that has begun to spread its icy fingers in him will not stop him. He thinks. [SebaCiel].

23. Chapter 23: Opposite Side of Boredom

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Chapter Twenty-Four: The Opposite Side of Boredom. Part One

When Ciel opened his eyes, for a long strange moment, he thought he was still lost in his dreams. His body sang with deep, lazy contentment — he was almost floating, wrapped in a blanket of warmth and power.

He'd never felt this good before. Like he could do anything, be anything; like nothing and no one could ever hurt him.

As soon as this thought crossed his mind, Ciel frowned. Awareness stirred, spreading through him in a cold wave, and slowly, the memories of yesterday gained form.

Sebastian had won their game. There was nothing Ciel could do about it once it happened, but he invested every single effort into souring this victory to the point where Sebastian would feel sick at the mere mention of it.

His plan worked. He wished he could have become an extension of Sebastian's shadow to watch him enter Hell and then proceed to make an utter fool of himself in front of the other demons. Sebastian didn't volunteer any details, but with how angrily he crashed through the door, he must have humiliated himself irredeemably. Maybe so much that the other demons would remember it even decades after Ciel was dead. Which meant that Sebastian was going to remember it, too. He might forget the game, and what it involved, but the humiliation wouldn't leave his mind, just like the person who brought it on him.

A blissful smile curled the corners of his mouth. Stretching his limbs, Ciel sat up on the pillows and looked at the clock.

How odd. Sebastian was supposed to be here four minutes ago. Was his ego still smarting and he needed additional time to regain his emotionless mask?

But they parted on relatively good terms. After the blood…

The blood.

Ciel's eyelashes fluttered as a jolt of pure pleasure shot through him. He pressed his hand to his stomach, enjoying the warmth that still pulsated there, lying back down on the pillows.

That's why he was feeling so strangely good. Sebastian's blood was still inside him — and it still felt like a wholesome living creature that made a nest for itself in his body.

Not that Ciel minded. On the contrary, he was a willing recipient. The sensations this blood had brought were exquisite, and if anything, he would love to have another taste.

The blood all but purred, and Ciel shivered, his eyes closing for another pleasure-filled moment.

He used to hate blood. During the endless weeks of captivity, he'd probably swallowed more blood than water — it was everywhere, and its metallic stink had seemed to permanently etch itself into his nostrils and the back of his throat. Despite the years that now separated him from those memories, the fear and disgust stayed an immovable part of him. The only times he managed to ignore them was when he was distracted… like when Sebastian had decapitated some random intruder at Houndsworth. If Ciel hadn't been as consumed by the proximity to Sebastian's true form, he would have reacted differently. His fascination helped him to step over his fear. Maybe more so, considering what he'd asked for yesterday.

More heat infused his body. Ciel brushed against his stomach again, stroking it lightly, almost feeling how the blood in it swirled in response to his touch.

It'd been a spontaneous, reckless decision. He still didn't fully understand what motivated him to make it. It's just… the way Sebastian was staring at him. At his neck, at the bruises and the blood there. There wasn't much of it — Sebastian had scratched him by accident when strangling him, his abnormally long nails barely breaking the skin, but even the hint of blood seemed to hypnotise him. His eyes had gone entirely red, so full of visceral, maddening hunger that Ciel sensed the echoes of it reverberating through his own body. And in that second, he suddenly found himself craving blood, too — maybe not the blood itself, but whatever it was that put such an intense, raw look on Sebastian's face.

The more Sebastian hesitated, the brighter excitement flared in Ciel's chest. His determination solidified further at the realisation that this was something Sebastian had never let any of his previous masters do. It was one more thing Ciel could do to burn the memory of him into Sebastian's being, so he kept pushing until he got what he wanted.

And he loved it.

Letting out a wistful sigh, Ciel raised his hand to his throat, squeezing it slowly until the pressure was right — or as right as it could be. A shudder went through him at this contact, and then again when he closed his eyes and remembered the taste of Sebastian's blood.

It was unusual. Richer and softer, and much, much hotter than human blood. It was like drinking energy itself, so even after a few small sips, Ciel's head began to spin wildly. The vertigo of sensations was too much for him to handle immediately, but now he missed this feeling with longing he hadn't expected.

What were the chances of Sebastian letting him drink his blood again at some point? He'd probably do it if Ciel made it an order, but giving orders like this didn't feel justified. The reward was too big to merely demand it.

Well, he'd have to think of something.

Satisfied, Ciel sat back up, glancing at the clock again.

Where was Sebastian? It was fifteen minutes past seven. Even if Finnie and Mey-Rin had managed to smash all the teacups and the kettle and drink all the tea, Sebastian would have taken care of it by now. Had someone broken in at night and murdered all of his household members?

Rolling his eyes, Ciel was about to leave his bed when the door opened. Sebastian walked inside with a tray, his face entirely void of emotion.

"You are late," Ciel groused. He twisted his lips in preparation to scoff at Sebastian's undoubtedly unjustified excuse, and it took him some time to realise that it wasn't coming. There was nothing but silence as Sebastian put the tray on the table, opened the curtains, and walked back to the bed, taking Ciel's eye-patch and carefully tying it around his head. All the while avoiding looking at him.

All right, this was odd. Whatever happened between them, Sebastian was never this silent and stony-faced.

"I'm not hearing your answer," Ciel said slowly. This earned him a quick glance, but Sebastian looked away almost immediately.

"You didn't ask a question," he said after a pause got abnormally long. Ciel frowned, his concern growing to an uncomfortable simmering in his gut.

Did Sebastian get belatedly upset over yesterday's events? Or had something new happened?

"If talking is suddenly such an issue to you, you probably won't mind me revoking this privilege? I can always say that you burned your tongue on your own cooking and that speaking to anyone is too painful now."

Because he was watching so intently, he caught a flare of good-natured annoyance on Sebastian's face, but it quickly paled into the same hateful numbness.

"There were other matters requiring my attention," Sebastian replied woodenly. "My apologies. It won't happen again."

"Which matters?" Ciel insisted. Sebastian gave him a fresh newspaper, still avoiding eye contact.

"Matters," he repeated, his words as empty as his voice. "In fact, I need to attend to them now. Drink your tea. I'll return shortly to help you dress."

Without waiting for a dismissal, Sebastian left the room. He must have used some of his powers to get to the door so quickly because Ciel blinked and he was already gone.

The anxious feeling tightened. Frowning, Ciel tried the tea, and then he nearly spat it right back.

It had no sweetness to it. On the contrary, it was dark and intense, almost bitter. He hated bitter tea — he couldn't believe Sebastian had dared to serve him something like this.

Now seriously disturbed, Ciel put the cup away. An unpleasant chill began to seep into his body.

He had no theories. Sebastian seemed fine when they parted. The most logical explanation was that something else happened while he slept, but what could it be? Either way, Ciel surely had nothing to do with it. He would have loved to take responsibility for reducing Sebastian to this apathetic and lost excuse of a demon, but alas, he hadn't been the one to achieve it. Not this time.

He doubted any behaviour of Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin could have provoked this reaction either. They could be annoying but they stood no chance at eliciting such an emotional response from Sebastian. No humans did. Which left… whom? Other demons?

Ciel paused, intrigued but cautious at this idea.

He didn't know for certain what Sebastian had done yesterday, but he had hypothesised that the interrogation of other demons was involved, and Sebastian didn't deny it. His mood was palatable after he got back, though, so it couldn't have been that bad. If it was, then Sebastian had still been able to shake it off.

This meant, what, that one or more of them had followed Sebastian home? This was the only conclusion that seemed realistic, yet Ciel could do nothing with it. He had no way of confirming or denying his theory without grilling Sebastian about it. And with his current mood…

Biting his lip, Ciel stared at the cup with his rejected, ruined tea, trying to imagine what might have happened and failing.

By Sebastian's own admission, he was an important demon whom others respected. Apparently, he had a monstrous house in hell that everyone hated and he delighted in the outrage, so what could anyone say or do for it to cause such a drastic transformation?

Maybe Ciel was overthinking it. Could demons have bad days? Perhaps Sebastian got up left foot forward and was now spreading his forlornness throughout the house.

Not that demons went to sleep…

Irritated with this riddle, Ciel grabbed the newspaper and tried to concentrate on reading.

Whatever. He'd wait and see what Sebastian would do.

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By the end of the day, nothing changed. Sebastian followed his duties with the same listless expression Ciel had seen in the morning. The meals he prepared weren't as terrible as the tea, but in comparison with what he usually cooked, everything was subpar.

Ciel didn't comment on it, even though he quickly grew tired of tasting something just to be disappointed when the taste proved to be lacking yet again. He observed Sebastian quietly, studying his interactions with everyone else, comparing them with the way he himself was being treated.

At first, he decided that his initial guess had been correct. Sebastian must have been having some demon business problems because his dead mood applied to everyone. He didn't react to Mey-Rin shattering a set of clean plates; he remained emotionless when Bard exploded something in the kitchen; he even said nothing when Finnie ran into the manor crying about Pluto burning yet another area in the garden. All he did was go check on it, silently and blankly, like he was barely present.

Relief cooled down anxiety that had been itching inside him for half of the day, but soon enough, Ciel noticed the main difference.

Sebastian might not have been reacting to anything the way he used to, but at least he looked at everyone else. He had no problem meeting Mey-Rin's, Finnie's, Bard's or Tanaka's eyes. Ciel was the only person he refused to even glance at unless he absolutely had to.

As soon as this understanding came, Ciel's fragile optimistic mood plummeted back down. Bewilderment returned, and with it came the first flickers of hurt.

He couldn't understand this stupid demon. Even if something bad was happening in hell or with other demons, it should have never affected Sebastian's behaviour towards him. They had a contract, and Sebastian was supposed to honour it until there was nothing to honour any longer. Why would Ciel need a butler who couldn't stand the sight of him?

His dark thoughts continued to accumulate through the rest of the day. Sebastian remained distant, like he was nothing but a shell, and by the time the late evening rolled, Ciel had enough.

"Tell me what happened," he said when Sebastian bothered to show up to prepare him for bed.

For a second, Sebastian's eyes darted to him. For the first time today, they held each other's gazes, and then Sebastian broke it by glancing down.

"Everything is fine, my lord," he replied shortly. He began to handle Ciel's clothes, an empty mask shielding his real features, and it looked so unnatural, so wrong that Ciel reached out before he could stop himself. His hand covered Sebastian's, carefully but firmly, pressing it down with its weight.

It startled them both. Sebastian stared at their hands, and if Ciel wasn't as concerned as he currently felt, he'd be utterly mortified.

"Don't insult me," he urged softly. His skin was rapidly growing heated, but he refused to move, hoping that this approach would rattle Sebastian enough to finally wake him up. "I'm not blind. Something happened after I fell asleep. What was it? You can tell me."

For a second, he thought it worked. Sebastian looked up, one of his fingers twisting unnaturally from under Ciel's grip to slide around his palm and press against his skin. When his stare reached Ciel's face, though, he flinched, and a distant expression came back in an instant.

"As I said, everything is fine, my lord," he repeated, taking his hand away and gazing to the side. Every syllable rang with fakeness.

Being rejected felt strange. Ciel withdrew slowly, humiliation filling his body with painful stiffness, the last sparks of warmth dying away under the force of Sebastian's coldness.

He'd been generous. Instead of tearing into Sebastian for his abysmal service today, he'd shown patience and concern. He'd gone out of his way to be understanding, and Sebastian threw it all in his face.

So be it. There were always other solutions.

"Bring Bard to my room," he ordered, not making a move to accommodate Sebastian's silent request to raise his hands and start their dressing ritual.

Sebastian blinked.

"Now?" he clarified.

"Stop asking stupid questions. Yes, now. Immediately!"

Looking confused, Sebastian bowed and retreated. Ciel leaned against the bed, crossing his legs, drumming his fingers against the blanket.

Something serious was going on. If Sebastian was too stubborn to speak, fine, Ciel wasn't going to run after him and implore him to change his mind. But he also wasn't going to tolerate it. If Sebastian wanted to be an idiot, let him be an idiot away from him.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, revealing Bard and Sebastian. Bard appeared surprised, and his genuine curiosity mended some of the recent holes Sebastian had left in Ciel's ego.

At least someone would be happy with his effort.

"From now on, you two will be swapping your roles," he ordered. "Sebastian, you're demoted to the role of a chef. Bard, you'll be fulfilling the role of my butler. We'll do a reassessment a week later to see how you both are adjusting. Any questions?"

Both Bard and Sebastian stared at him wide-eyed. Satisfaction surged through Ciel at this — so now Sebastian was capable of looking at him for longer than a few seconds. What a change.

Bard was the first one to recover. A grin spread across his face and he slapped Sebastian on his back.

"Hey, it's better than that time you were a chef's assistant, eh?" he exclaimed. "Now you'll be a full-blown chef! Congratulations! Any butler pointers you could share?"

It was clear that Bard didn't take the situation seriously — he knew it was temporary, but he had the unique ability to enjoy whatever came his way, so he readily embraced this new shift. Sebastian, on the other hand, wore a darker, complex expression that was impossible to read. He kept looking at Ciel, and Ciel stared back.

"I need a butler I can rely on," he said lowly, not blinking, hoping his gaze conveyed the biting frost he could feel. "One who invests everything into doing his duties and who doesn't treat his responsibilities as an afterthought. A butler is a reflection of his master, which means that I need someone worthy of being connected to me. You are not."

Something dangerous flashed on Sebastian's face — something familiar.

This was the second time in the last 24 hours that Ciel accused him of being unworthy. The first time was a lie aimed at angering him, but now he meant every word.

Sebastian never deserved his trust, but he was supposed to be reliable. No matter what happened, no matter how many games they played, he vowed to serve Ciel until the end of their contract. Ciel had to be his focus, his current reason for existence, and if he couldn't get it, then he didn't need Sebastian nearby.

"It's not a punishment," he added coldly, ignoring the way Sebastian briefly bared his teeth at him, satisfying as it was. Who would have thought, he did feel something. "It's a logical outcome of the current situation. You no longer fit the model I want the other servants to follow. If you have some personal matters to attend to, by all means, do it, but don't expect to retain your position, and don't expect to return to it with the same conditions and benefits."

Because now that Ciel knew Sebastian was capable of turning into this disinterested, useless, distant piece of stone, he wasn't going to forget it. Even if things went back to how they were, and Sebastian became the embodiment of a perfect butler again, Ciel would still know how shaky and unreliable his performance was.

He learned his lesson — another one.

Sebastian looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just lowered his head in agreement. Ciel found his lack of protest even more bitterly disappointing.

"Get out," he snapped, harsher than he'd intended. "Helping me to prepare for bed is no longer your responsibility. Bard?"

Bard threw a worried look at Sebastian. He was met with a glare — Sebastian looked like he was contemplating someone's murder, and this just confused Ciel further. He never understood Sebastian less.

"Get out," he repeated, his voice heavy with warning. Without glancing at him, Sebastian whirled around and left, slamming the door with unnecessary force.

"Well," Bard murmured after an awkward pause, scratching his head. "This… happened. What's his problem?"

"You tell me."

Still bewildered, Bard approached him and began to untie his eye patch. His touch was entirely unthreatening, but Ciel still found himself tensing, his heart lurching at the sudden spike of adrenaline spilling through his blood.

"Don't," he said sharply. "It stays."

The only time Bard saw him without his eye patch was in the dark. If he was to dress him regularly, it was going to complicate things, but not enough for Ciel to change his mind.

Bard began to work on his shirt, and another unpleasant shiver ran through him. Ciel closed his eyes, annoyed with himself, imagining that it was Sebastian redressing him.

Unfortunately, his body knew better.

It took ages for Bard to finish everything. Worse, when he saw the extensive bruising on Ciel's neck, he froze, his eyes widening in shock.

"Who did this?" he growled. His face darkened dangerously — Ciel was almost impressed. "Who— was it Sebastian? Is that what his problem is? I'll kill him!"

Ciel blinked, briefly astonished by such dedicated and passionate defence. It was almost sweet, the way Bard wanted to protect him. He clearly had a lot of respect for Sebastian, but he was ready to forget about it to prioritise Ciel's well-being.

It felt nice to be cared for like this. Especially since Sebastian was no longer interested in filling the position.

"Of course it wasn't Sebastian. Don't be ridiculous," Ciel uttered haughtily. "It was one of the criminals whom we were investigating. He's been dealt with accordingly."

Some of the righteous fury faded from Bard's face. He breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"That's good," he muttered. "I don't know why I thought… of course it's not Sebastian, he wouldn't dare. He'd take his own head off if he dared to lay hands on you like that."

This was tragically funny. Ciel would have laughed if he wasn't feeling this perturbed by everything that took place today.

When he was finally tucked in and the light went out, he murmured, "Be sure to change into a more suitable outfit tomorrow. Ask Tanaka to help you, he knows where things are."

"Okay," Bard said softly. He lingered, obviously wanting to say something. Whatever it was, Ciel didn't want to hear it, so he closed his eyes and kept them that way until Bard left, closing the door behind himself carefully. Such a contrast to how Sebastian had done it.

Stop it, Ciel ordered silently. Not everything was about Sebastian. Bard would be abysmal in his role, no doubt, but at least he'd genuinely try. He wouldn't suddenly forget that he had a master to serve. He wouldn't begin to put his unrelated needs above Ciel's.

And if he would, it's not like Ciel would care. Because Bard wasn't Sebastian.

Doubly annoyed with himself now, he tried to count, hoping to bore his mind into falling asleep.

Unfortunately, the land of dreams refused to let him in even after he reached one thousand.

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Bard was a terrible butler. It wasn't anything unexpected, and he did try to be helpful, but his lack of knowledge triggered multiple flashes of hot annoyance in Ciel, so in the end, he tried to limit their interactions to a minimum. For the most part, Bard was overseeing other servants while Sebastian was busy in the kitchen.

Perhaps too busy. He cooked and cooked until there was no place for all the new meals he kept making. Before, such excessive cooking might have been an apology attempt, but not this time. Sebastian wasn't apologising for anything — the thought clearly hadn't crossed his mind at all. Despite losing his position, he still refused to even look at Ciel properly.

Four days passed like this. At the end of the last of them, Ciel realised that he'd barely said ten words starting from morning. Without Sebastian, there was simply no opportunity for him to speak — he gave only short orders to Bard, and he didn't interact with Finnie, Mey-Rin, or Tanaka.

Loneliness was a strange feeling. Before, he thought he embraced it. He certainly preferred being alone to spending time entertaining Elisabeth or listening to the meaningless bickering of his employees, but Sebastian had been shadowing him so well that Ciel became dangerously used to it. He took it for granted — his entire days consisted of discussing theories, arguing, competing, simply talking with Sebastian. This part of their relationship was always there, even during their worst fights. And now it was gone with no warning, leaving Ciel with no other candidates to talk to.

The hollowness gnawed on him. Even with the fireplace, the coldness clung to his every bone, and the things that used to cheer him up gradually stopped mattering altogether.

Sebastian cooked insane volumes of food no one ate; Bard was actively trying to be a passable butler and just as actively failed at it; the other servants, if they spoke, did so very hesitantly, and Ciel felt too drained to stop Sebastian from wasting so many products. In the matter of days, the manor turned into a black hole — it kept sucking all traces of life out of him, and it couldn't go on any longer. Ciel needed some task. He had to do something.

"Prepare the carriage for tomorrow," he told Bard, climbing into his bed and pulling the blanket higher. "I want to go to London."

Bard blossomed with joy. He didn't have many opportunities for leaving the manor — Ciel counted on his enthusiasm to carry them through tomorrow regardless of where he chose to go.

"Sure thing, Young Master! Only…" Bard paused suddenly, his forehead creasing in anxiety.

"What?" Ciel snapped. He really, really didn't want to hear any arguments, good or bad. They were going and this was the end of it.

"Could we maybe clear it with Sebastian first? Just in case, you know."

Ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the sound of the name, Ciel measured Bard with a challenging look.

"What does Sebastian have to do with my schedule?" he asked, and then he answered without letting Bard speak, "That's right. Nothing. Not anymore. Where I choose to go is not his concern."

Bard made a vague sound.

"Well, all right, I guess," he murmured uncertainly. "But if he makes it his concern..."

"Why would he make it his concern? Perhaps it has escaped your notice, but Sebastian and I are no longer on speaking terms. He's been showing disregard to his duties time and time again, so excuse me if I struggle to imagine him caring about where I go."

"He's been acting weird lately," Bard agreed, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. Ciel found it both curious and irritating how he suddenly began to avoid looking at him. Had someone transformed him into some disfigured creature as he slept or was Sebastian's behaviour catching? What was Bard's reason for being so awkward now? "But it happens sometimes. Maybe he's reassessing his life, his… attachments. Some of them might make him feel like he's missing out on things, so he's trying to find a new balance and he needs distance for it."

Ciel stared incredulously. To his further amazement, Bard flushed and hung his head.

"You know how it is," he added weakly.

"I really don't. Was your speech supposed to make sense? If so, I'm afraid you might need more lessons in literacy. Your background is showing."

As soon as he said it, Ciel winced internally. This might have sounded too harsh… no, based on Bard's startled, hurt look, it was too harsh. He should learn how to keep his frustration focused on Sebastian, who deserved it, instead of taking it out on others.

"You should go to bed," he added, softening his tone. "I want to leave immediately after breakfast."

"Sebastian cares about you," Bard blurted out. It was so abrupt that Ciel almost recoiled, startled by the urgency as much as by the words themselves. "He's bad at showing it sometimes, but he does. Just yesterday, he nearly had my head because I tried to add celery to the dinner he made."

"Why would you try adding celery to the food?" Ciel demanded, momentarily distracted. "I'm allergic to it. Didn't Sebastian make you memorise the list with my allergies when you first came to work for us?"

"Well… yeah, he did," Bard gave him a quick guilty smile. "I might have forgotten some of it. So I tried to add celery and he set it on fire."

Surprise removed any lingering traces of annoyance. Ciel blinked, trying to wrap his mind around what he'd just heard.

"Sebastian set celery on fire?" he clarified.

"Right!" Bard looked enthusiastic again. "I don't know how he did that or what he used for it, one second I'm holding it, another second it's on fire and he's hissing some really creative insults at me. Then he made me repeat everything you're allergic to five times in a row. Five times! I'm not that stupid, you know? I just needed a little reminder."

This was an interesting bit of information. Ciel rolled his eyes for appearances and turned on his other side, demonstrating that he wanted to go to sleep. Bard hesitated for a few seconds, but then with a soft, "Good night, Young Master," he finally left the room.

So Sebastian still cared about his health. Ciel supposed it was something. It breathed a little warmth in him — the room immediately stopped feeling as cold as it was just a second ago.

But at the same time, this incident was so minuscule and basic that he couldn't let himself get his hopes up. Whatever was going on with Sebastian was still happening. Nothing changed, even if Sebastian himself forgot about it sometimes. It was like the old him was still there, surfacing occasionally only to be beaten back down by his newer, indifferent version.

Growling into his pillow in frustration, Ciel got rid of the eye patch and closed his eyes again, this time for real.

Sebastian could return to hell for all he cared.

Still, he would have given much to see him burn that stupid celery.

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Bard managed to prepare the carriage by the time Ciel requested. No one else came to see them off — Sebastian didn't appear at all throughout the early morning, and Ciel tried to ignore the way this fact upset him.

It's good, he tried to convince himself. It was what he wanted. It was exactly why he ordered Bard and Sebastian to change their roles: he wasn't interested in Sebastian as long as Sebastian wasn't interested in him.

It was cold — Ciel found himself shivering even inside the carriage, but the skies were clear, so at least it was unlikely to rain. Bard paused when they approached London, shouting, "So where would you like to go, Young Master?"

The truth was, Ciel didn't know. He just needed a change of scenery.

"Stop anywhere," he commanded. "I'd like to take a walk."

Soon enough, the carriage stopped. Bard helped him to step down, and he remained glued to his back as Ciel began his aimless journey.

Sometimes he hated London. But sometimes, like now, he loved it. The narrow streets were compact and separated by the buildings that mirrored each other from both sides. They were like shields that created a safe passage for him, away from Sebastian and his infuriating behaviour. Here, he could get lost in the crowds of people, horses, and carriages — he wasn't surrounded by silence, so he could finally distract himself with something.

They walked for a while, Ciel observing the streets, Bard following him silently. When the chill intensified, Ciel entered one of his favourite tearooms and ordered tea. It didn't taste anywhere near as good as what Sebastian made for him, but it was warm, and for a moment, it was enough.

The last time he was here, Sebastian was with him. They were investigating a minor case and Ciel insisted on coming inside to taste the latest batch of cookies. They kept arguing whether eating the dessert in a tearoom meant that he wouldn't be getting another portion at home — it was such a silly argument, but it kept them occupied for half an hour they spent here.

Wistfulness flooded him. With a frown, Ciel stared at his cup, the dark mood threatening to overwhelm him and drown out the remaining traces of basic enjoyment entirely.

The London routine was supposed to help him to keep some of the bleakest thoughts away. Sebastian had truly poisoned his mind — he tore into such depths of it that there was no getting rid of him even when kilometres separated them.

Upset even more now, Ciel tried to focus on other people. Normally, watching them wasn't something he enjoyed, but it was preferable to dwelling on what Sebastian was doing and why.

There was an unchaperoned woman sitting not far from his table. She had no company at all, yet she requested two cups of tea, placing one of them on the opposite side of the table, as if there was someone invisible sitting there. Was she someone not entirely sane? Waiting for a companion? Simply odd, preferring to have one additional cup of tea in store?

A boy Ciel's age was buying different treats: he was also unaccompanied, and he made a curious sight. Based on his extensive order, he was wealthy, but he was behaving like it was his first time visiting a place like this. His voice was overly loud, his vocabulary was lacking, and his accent pinned him as someone from East End.

It was curious to watch him. Ciel waited for a while, wanting to see his face to keep building theories, but the boy continued to argue long enough for him to lose his interest.

Having finished his tea, he went outside again, ignoring Bard's worried murmurs.

They spent another hour wandering the streets. Ciel barely felt his own body anymore — the cold made him entirely numb, and Bard's concern grew accordingly.

"Maybe we should go back?" he suggested for the fourth time. "It won't do you any good to get sick."

"I won't get sick," Ciel denied. His teeth were beginning to chatter, but the idea of going back to the manor filled him with nausea.

He… couldn't do it. Not right now. The more distance separated him and Sebastian, the better.

One of the Funtom shops came into view. Its windows were glowing with all kinds of toys invitingly, and Ciel stopped to scrutinise them.

Something behind them grabbed his attention. There were four people in the shop, and one of them was the last person Ciel would ever expect to see here.

"It can't be," he murmured. Incredulous, he stepped closer, and yes, his eyes had certainly not deceived him.

Randall was buying the toys — his toys. The sight of it was already priceless, but what Ciel found even more interesting was that he was accompanying a little girl. She was the one pointing at the toys, and Randall took them from the shelves obediently.

"Were we aware that Randall has a daughter?" Ciel asked out loud, still watching them.

"Who?" Bard asked, and with a start, Ciel realised that he addressed his question to the wrong person.

For a moment, he'd forgotten that Sebastian wasn't with him. He thought they could discuss…

No matter. It was a stupid misstep, nothing more.

"Lord Randall," he explained curtly. "I never inquired about his family status specifically, but I never got the impression that he has children. Perhaps it's a niece."

"Could be," Bard muttered. He tried to hide it, but he sounded confused. "Even if he has a daughter, what does it matter?"

"Maybe nothing. Maybe leverage. I don't know yet." Ciel watched Randall pay for the toys and try to stir the girl towards the exit. She didn't move immediately. She continued to stand there, a little awkwardly, so he bent down, murmured something, and then pulled her by her hand.

They walked outside at last. Randall was so focused on the girl that it took Ciel clearing his throat for him to raise his eyes and see him.

The horrified look that twisted his face and the way he went instantly pale spoke volumes. Ciel's suspicions were justified: something strange was going on.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly. This brief stirring of interest chased away the numbing cold, so it looked like meeting Randall was beneficial in several ways at once. "I did not expect to see you in one of my shops. It's flattering to know that you too enjoy Funtom products."

"You!" Randall hissed furiously. He tried to shield the girl, putting her behind his back, so naturally, Ciel craned his neck to see her better.

She was small — no older than four. She had a thin straight nose and greyish hair similar to Randall, but there was undeniably something strange about her. Her eyes were focusing on too many things at once. Her mouth was slightly open, and she had an oddly lax expression, like her face couldn't fully support the weight of her features.

Several conclusions clicked into their places.

Randall indeed had a daughter, and this daughter was ill. Since Ciel had never heard even a whisper of her, it was clear that Randall didn't want her existence to be public knowledge. At the same time, she wasn't hidden away in the asylum and stuffed full of laudanum to the point of incoherence. Randall dressed her in a coat with a deep hood to cover her face, but he still took her on a walk across London and he brought her to the toy shop. He loved her.

This could have some potential uses.

"I didn't know you had a daughter, commissioner," Ciel drawled. He smiled at the girl before moving his gaze to her father. "Perhaps I could organise an event that the two of you could attend. Would you be interested in that?"

"Don't look at her!" Randall growled. His anger and agitation were rapidly intensifying, colouring his face in the reddest shade of all. "You know nothing. You saw nothing! Understood?"

Ciel moved his amused gaze back to the girl. This time, she was looking at him, too. Her face still looked somewhat alien, and he felt a stab of pity.

If Randall wasn't this hostile and unyielding, Ciel might have offered to help. While Randall held his own share of respect, wealth, and connections, Ciel had a far more extensive reach. He might have been able to do something for the girl that her father couldn't.

All of a sudden, Randall grabbed him by his throat, slamming him into the nearest wall. Something sharp scratched the back of his head, and Ciel almost winced in discomfort.

"Listen here," Randall spat threateningly. "If you dare to breathe even one word about it to anyone…"

"Get your hands off him!" Bard snapped. He almost wrenched Randall's shoulder out of its socket by jerking him away from Ciel, his eyes blazing furiously. "What the hell is wrong with you? He offers compassion and you attack him? Get yourself in order, man!"

"Compassion?" Randall shouted. "He doesn't have a compassionate bone in his body! He's a devil's spawn and you are blind if you can't see it!"

"Your unhinged rhetoric is getting old," Ciel uttered. He touched the back of his head, raising his eyebrows when he saw a few droplets of blood on his fingers.

"This will cost you," he said musingly. An idea occurred, so he lowered his collar a little, demonstrating the side of the bruises. They were slowly healing, but Randall wouldn't be able to determine it from this angle. He'd think that he caused them by grabbing Ciel too hard. "This will cost you as well."

"I…" for the first time, Randall seemed lost. He pulled his daughter close, frowning at Ciel uncertainly. "I didn't—"

Whatever words of apology or denial he was trying to push out died before they could fully get out. It wasn't unexpected, so Ciel smiled in a silent promise.

"I'll be seeing you," he said softly. His stare slid back to the girl. "I hope you enjoy your toys."

Leaving Randall pant in his impotent rage, Ciel turned and began to walk in the direction of the carriage. Bard followed after him shortly.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously. "I didn't expect him to start throwing hands. I'm sorry, Young Master, I should have reacted faster."

"Don't worry about it. I underestimated the extent of his possible reaction. It's for the best, though. Now he's going to owe me a couple of very important favours."

Bard frowned, but offered no comment.

They finally got to their carriage almost fifteen minutes later. By that time, Ciel was freezing again, so he was more than glad to take cover. However, Bard hesitated before closing the door after him.

"You are not going to use his daughter against him, are you?" he asked. Ciel rolled his eyes, then thought about it for a moment.

"I don't need to use her," he said finally. "I only have to make him think that to get what I want out of him."

Bard's frown got deeper. He didn't argue — he shut the door, and Ciel leaned against his seat, wrapping his hands around himself in an attempt to get warmer.

At least this visit hadn't been entirely for personal reasons. He lucked out to learn Randall's little secret, and this opened some intriguing long-term opportunities to him.

Personally, he didn't see what the big deal was. If someone's child was ill, whether physically or mentally, it was unfortunate, but it wasn't some most shameful secret or a crime worth censure and cruelty. Society had other views on the matter, though, and apparently Randall shared them to an extent. He had to love his daughter, but he was ashamed of her, and shame meant a source of power that Ciel could use for many, many purposes.

He kept reviewing some ideas on the way home. When the carriage entered the territory of the Phantomhives, he rubbed his hands together, breathing on them through the gloves and imagining walking inside the manor and getting a hot cup of tea. The day had been more productive than he feared — perhaps tomorrow he could…

The thought went unfinished. The carriage drew to a stop abruptly, and before Ciel could blink, Sebastian was wrenching the door open. His eyes were wild, and the look of panic and anger on his face was so distinct that Ciel gaped at him in astonishment.

Without speaking any words, Sebastian snatched him from the carriage and pulled him close, holding him at an arm's length and examining him with intensity that made Ciel flush without fully understanding why. Sebastian's fingers wrapped around his wrist, pressing against his pulse point. His other hand travelled up Ciel's back and shoulders to his head, stopping at a small lump left by Randall's aggression. Ciel hissed in discomfort, and Sebastian's eyes flashed with red.

Bard was just stepping towards them when Sebastian whirled around to meet him face-on. A second, and he slammed Bard against the carriage, pressing an elbow into his throat.

"If you ever return him in anything but the condition in which he left, you will not step foot in this house again," he murmured. His voice sounded raspy, closer to demonic, and if Ciel wasn't so shocked, he would have worried about Bard noticing it. "One of the countless graves on this territory will become your permanent home. Is that clear?"

"Pretty much," Bard said. He looked as spooked as Ciel felt, but unlike Ciel, he also appeared to feel genuinely guilty. Over letting Randall push him? This wasn't really his fault. Sometimes Bard's loyalty went far beyond what Ciel could understand.

With the last glower, Sebastian stepped away.

"Go to the kitchen," he commanded darkly. "Return to your real duties."

Ciel raised an eyebrow, rendered speechless by such an audacity. Was Sebastian dismissing Bard as a butler and retaking this position for himself? Without any orders?

The only reason he wasn't snapping was that this change was better than the enraging behaviour from before. But what caused it? Ciel's absence, really? He wasn't gone for that long, and Sebastian knew that he went to London with Bard — he had to have heard about it. What was his problem now?

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" he asked. Sebastian glanced at him but didn't respond. He frowned instead, his displeasure flaring with renewed vigour, and Ciel belatedly realised that he was shivering.

"Prepare Young Master's tea," Sebastian barked. Bard nodded, and as soon as he disappeared inside the manor, Sebastian picked Ciel up. A very short, very blurred moment later, they were in the bedroom, and slowly, Ciel stretched his arms, silently demanding to be disrobed.

When the cold-soaked clothes were gone and a new warm set replaced them, he went into his office, towards the fireplace. Sebastian followed him wordlessly. The whole situation was surreal — Ciel didn't know where to start with it.

"What's gotten into you?" he asked at last. Sebastian didn't stop staring at him, and his stare was strange enough to make him bristle. "First you can't bear to look at me, and now you—"

"I couldn't sense you," Sebastian interrupted him. The sound of his own voice seemed to finally shake him out of his strange state — some of the tension left his body, even though he continued to stare. "I couldn't sense your soul. You could have been a thousand miles away or dead — I could not feel anything. If you'd been kidnapped, I would have likely been unable to find you."

This was… probably the last thing Ciel expected to hear. He waited, wondering if he was missing something, but Sebastian didn't say another word, so in the end, he had to accept what he'd heard at the face value.

"All right," he drawled carefully. This explanation didn't make anything clearer — on the contrary, it complicated things further. "Why couldn't you sense me? Has the seal stopped working?"

To his growing confusion, Sebastian seemed stunned by the question. His eyes darted to the seal on his hand, and he focused on it intently, as if communicating with it in a silent language. When he looked up again, there was palpable relief in his eyes.

"No," he murmured. "It still works. Although it feels much weaker than it used to."

Silence flooded the room again, and Ciel exhaled through his teeth, barely kicking his agitation down. He couldn't let himself get angry when Sebastian was like this. First, he had to understand what was happening.

Summoning patience from the farthest nooks of his body, he tried again.

"Why were you unable to sense my soul, then? And why has the seal grown weaker?"

It was a paradox, but his attempts at calmness only triggered Sebastian's turmoil anew. He tensed again, the familiar cloud of darkness wrapping around him like a cloak. Ciel watched him, waiting for a response, knowing that he should stay silent. Whatever was happening, Sebastian was deliberating, deciding if he should share it. Any wrong move, any redundant word, and he'd close off again, leaving without any explanation.

Finally, when it seemed like an eternity had passed, Sebastian appeared to have made his decision. He walked towards the window, now refusing to look at Ciel.

"I can no longer distinguish your soul from that of the others," he said. His voice sounded dead, and an entirely new kind of chill shot down Ciel's spine. "It is as blank and insipid as the souls of the majority of humans. When I try to seek it out, I feel nothing. When I look at it…"

Sebastian didn't finish his sentence, but for once, Ciel was grateful for it. Horror paralysed him — if he heard a word more, he would have probably closed his ears in a primitive refusal to hear anything.

His soul. That's what the problem lay. Sebastian wasn't at fault for acting the way he had been — the fault was Ciel's. Somehow, something in him had changed so much that it transformed his soul in return, made it so disgusting and unpalatable that Sebastian couldn't even look at it without feeling revulsion.

This was worse than any nightmare he had lived through. His veins felt like ice now, each condemning word tearing through his skin and burrowing itself underneath. Something was obstructing his ability to breathe, and Ciel took several hasty inhales before realising that it only aggravated his panic.

His soul was the one ultimate weapon he had against Sebastian. The only prize he could offer him for staying by his side. With it losing its appeal, what else did he have? Who was he if Sebastian no longer wanted a contract with him?

Panic continued to choke him. His rapid breathing began to make him light-headed, and that's when the sharp realisation suddenly struck.

His soul couldn't have changed overnight. When Sebastian returned from wherever he was, everything was still fine. His behaviour changed in the morning. Ciel might have believed that he did something so wrong, weakened himself so much that his soul became undesirable, but to think that it happened within several hours, especially after his undeniable victory over Sebastian? Impossible.

"My soul is the same," he said harshly. He was probably trying to convince himself more than Sebastian, but it was worth it — Sebastian looked at him in mild surprise, like he didn't understand his point.

"Of course it is the same," he replied irritably. "The problem is that I cannot see it. My…" he hesitated, then decided to continue. "My acquaintance from Hell used a spell. It's meant to be a test, a temporary one, but for the moment, your real soul is hidden from me. I cannot recognise you when I look at you, and the distance must make it worse because when you left, I lost the sense of even the subtlest connection."

These claims didn't make sense to Ciel. He stood there like a fool, trying to get his mind to work but failing repeatedly. Finally, knowing he had to act quickly, he decided to work with each claim at a time.

His soul was the same. This was good. This didn't invite any further elaborations.

Sebastian's acquaintance from Hell used a spell… now this was troubling. Apparently, this spell hid his real soul from Sebastian, rendered it completely undesirable to him. And it was meant to be a test? A test in what?

"What kind of test is this supposed to be?" Ciel wondered carefully. "And how long will it last?"

"I don't know." Sebastian still refused to turn to him. "This test is meant to remind me that humans can offer nothing but nourishment. They are lowly creatures incapable of any astonishing feats, and to think otherwise means to delude oneself. I can see her point."

The words stung. In a way, it was surprising — Ciel thought everything that could be stung had been stung already during the last few days, leaving him with a swollen, raw mess for his insides.

Lowly creatures. Wasn't this how Sebastian had called him on the first day of their contract, when he was helping him to clean up?

All the years, all the progress, only to end up right where they started? The thought horrified him. Panic and hurt began to crawl up, working their way to his throat, and Ciel swallowed them back furiously.

"Without humans, you'd starve to death," he said icily. "What would you do, cannibalise other demons?"

This seemed to surprise Sebastian enough to make him turn. An intrigued glimmer lit his eyes, softening their sharp redness.

"Maybe," he allowed. "This could be an interesting contest."

"Only it wouldn't have been a contest," Ciel noted, and he took sweet, vicious satisfaction in how Sebastian frowned. "Sooner or later, the number of demons would have dropped below the acceptable threshold. What would you do then, eat yourself? Although I'm sure you wouldn't have the chance to find out whether your hunger can push you into cannibalising yourself. Because you aren't the strongest demon, are you? Not at all. This acquaintance of yours clearly outranks you if they managed to cast a spell you can't fight off."

The subtle softness vanished from Sebastian's face. He pressed his lips together, and the stare he gave Ciel was surprisingly callous.

"I am capable of eradicating her spell," he uttered, his voice as cold as his expression. "But it would require the volume of power that will likely kill you. I decided against using it. Or would you like me to try? Because I can't say that I would mind it."

The look on his face — Sebastian had never looked at him like this. Ciel saw this stare directed at their enemies, at other people, but never at himself, not once.

Like he was one of them now. One of those who didn't matter. One of those who Sebastian could crush and forget before he took his next step.

Ciel clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth actually hurt. His head began to pulse with pain — from the injury Randall inflicted, from what was happening now, he didn't know. He only knew that Sebastian was staring at him like he was someone worthless, and the last time he felt this helpless and abandoned was when he was sold to a cult, locked in a cage to be tortured and murdered.

His dignity was in tatters then, and it was in tatters now. And he couldn't stand it. Couldn't live with it. He didn't know what to do — his head was entirely void of any thoughts or sharp retaliations.

The knock on the door had never sounded as welcoming. Ciel could sag with relief over what it meant to have something or someone else to distract himself with. If he had to spend even one more second alone with Sebastian, subjected to this wrong, diminishing stare…

"I brought you tea, Young Master," Bard announced. He threw a wary look at Sebastian before walking towards the table and putting the tray there. "Sorry for being late, I ruined the first batch."

Ciel had to clear his throat in search of his voice.

"It's okay," he murmured. Fortunately, he didn't have to look up again — he pretended to be consumed by the cup in front of him. "You can leave now. Take Sebastian with you."

There was a pause, but then the door opened and closed, and the suffocating coldness dispersed along with it. Ciel collapsed onto his chair, pressing his forehead to the hard table surface and covering his head with his hands.

Things were a little clearer now. But he almost wished he remained clueless.

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He didn't know how he got through the rest of the day. Greeting night and hiding in his bedroom was one clear goal he'd been looking forward to, but once he actually found himself in bed, sleep eluded him. Ciel curled into a ball, staring at the black sheep Sebastian had given him.

It was a ridiculous gift, but he might have gotten attached to it. A little bit.

He kept it hidden, but with how cold and oddly empty he'd been feeling for the last several days, indulging himself and bringing it out didn't seem like a bad idea. Now it decorated his bedside table, visible even in the dark, and a tiny glow of warmth flickered in him at its sight.

It was two o'clock in the morning, and Ciel was stuck between dozing off and being awake. His body plunged into a sleepy trance, but his mind was alert, tracking the passing of time and the sounds his manor was emitting.

That was why when the air shifted, Ciel instantly noticed it. The enticing smell of night and sharpness spread through the room, more distinct now than it had ever been before. Was it because of some traces of Sebastian's blood that still wandered through his body? Ciel always felt attuned to his presence, but he'd never sensed it so startlingly well.

A formless shadow moved towards him. It lingered for a couple of minutes, as if undecided about what to do, and then it shifted and grew until Sebastian emerged from within. Contrary to Ciel's expectations — hopes? — he didn't look at him. No, he stared at the sheep, his lips pursed tightly in consideration. Finally, he reached for it, his slender fingers wrapping around it with slow but grim certainty.

And suddenly Ciel understood. He understood, and his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. An icy chill burned him, and when he tried to speak, he realised that he couldn't. A huge knot was blocking his throat.

Sebastian had come to take his gift away.

It was so— petty of him. So unprovoked, so unfair — Ciel was breathless with how betrayed he instantly felt.

It wasn't his fault that some wretched demon had chosen to put a curse on his soul and that Sebastian could no longer sense it! Yes, it was a problem, but a problem that wasn't permanent. They could deal with it. They would deal with it, if only Sebastian wasn't like this, if he didn't act like Ciel was so repulsive that he couldn't bear to even look at him!

The hurt was crushing. Every part of his body throbbed with it, and Ciel thought that if Sebastian were to murder him now by slicing him open, they'd both see the unnatural bleeding redness of his insides. How many more injuries was he supposed to take before this internal bleeding killed him?

Desolation demanded that he shut his eyes and pretend that this wasn't happening. He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to risk betraying the devastation that had been slowly gnawing on him all these days. Sebastian had already seen enough. Maybe it was better to hide and to forget about the world at least until the morning. Every moment of reprieve was a blessing.

Ciel almost did just that. The temptation to give up, to wallow in his misery was strong, but the glow he'd felt from watching this stupid figurine blazed into a spark of fury, and he clung to it with all he had.

He needed to get angry. And if he couldn't, he had to pretend that he was — at least that he was more angry than hurt. Soon enough, his stupid brain would catch up.

"What are you doing?" he asked coldly. Sebastian almost flinched. His grip around the figurine loosened before tightening again.

"I didn't realise you're awake," he said. Ciel had to swallow this insult.

"This doesn't answer my question."

Sebastian licked his lips, glancing at the sheep before finally looking at him. His eyes were guarded.

"This wasn't supposed to be a permanent gift," he said smoothly. "I have—"

"Liar."

Sebastian halted. A familiar mix of annoyance and surprise crossed his features, but before Ciel could pounce on it, the distant mask snapped back on.

For a moment, Sebastian regarded him with cold eyes. Like this, he was a stranger, unfamiliar and untouchable, and the pang of loss that seared through Ciel almost left him gasping for air.

Almost. He'd be damned if he showed any reaction.

"You have no need for it," Sebastian uttered at last. He rolled the figurine in his fingers. "I made it from the essence of my power. You receive no benefit from it. If anything, it is poisoning you."

"Poisoning me how?"

Sebastian hesitated again, and a dark feeling stirred in Ciel. It was obvious that he was being fed more lies. Was he supposed to believe that this indifferent version of Sebastian cared about the effects of his gift when the real Sebastian, the one who had given it to him, hadn't bothered? As if.

"Tell me the truth," Ciel hissed. Hissing was good — it masked the pathetic wobbling of his voice. "Tell me why you are really taking it."

He caught the second in which Sebastian decided to stop pretending. His expression cooled further. A sneer twisted his face, and the look he sent him was vehement, full of unexplainable bitter resentment.

"I am taking it because it is turning you into something you are not."

With the way it sounded, Ciel was certain it was another insult. Only he couldn't understand it.

Sebastian had to know it. He tilted his head, looking at him, searching for something and, based on his mounting frustration, not finding it. This maddening stare was enough to make Ciel's hackles rise.

It's not my fault, he wanted to cry out. My soul is still there even if you can't see it. Why are you punishing me for it? It's not how we are.

Only it was, wasn't it? Sebastian was a demon, and in the end, hunger was what mattered most to him. How many times did Ciel have to remind himself of it for the notion to finally stick?

He had a feeling that if he asked for elaborations, Sebastian would say something even more terrible. In a way, it was graceful of him to stay silent. If Ciel wanted to protect himself from other blows, he just had to use the easy solution and to shut up.

But using easy solutions was never among his strengths.

"Turning me into what?" he asked carefully. A shadow flickered across Sebastian's face, and then he sighed.

"It is turning you into someone special," he said. He sounded disappointed, and though it was the blow Ciel had been waiting for, it still had him flinching. "Someone more than a human. The more you are surrounded by my energy, the bigger effect it has on you. It makes you capable of things that you would have never been capable of otherwise, and this… this adds colours to you that you simply lack in reality."

Ciel frowned, trying to make sense of it. Sebastian's energy was making him special? It gave him some abilities he shouldn't have? He didn't notice any extraordinary changes in himself.

But based on Sebastian's grim look, he was the only one.

"I can see it clearly now," Sebastian murmured. "You are…" he paused. More hesitation; another flash of resentment. "Without your soul, you are an aesthetically pleasing package with nothing of substance underneath. It is not your fault. After all, all humans are simple-minded. But my hunger fooled me into perceiving you differently, and I am not going to repeat this mistake again."

"Simple-minded," Ciel repeated softly. He felt strangely disconnected from his own body. "I am simple-minded?"

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, then closed it. His uncertainty was palpable, and Ciel could hear it echoing in his voice when he said, "Perhaps less so than other people."

This was such a tiny, seemingly insignificant thing — a bone that couldn't mean anything, and yet Ciel clung to it viciously for support.

It was something. It was something, wasn't it? Or had he become so pathetic that even a tiny speck of validation could satisfy him?

His heart made one hopeful jump before dropping in dread.

The latter. Of course it was the latter. Because to give this speck up meant being forced to relive and analyse the words preceding it, and this was bound to break the last pillars of his composure.

An aesthetically pleasing package. This was how Sebastian had called him. An aesthetically pleasing package with nothing of substance underneath. Less simple-minded than other people, but simple-minded still.

Meaning not interesting. Boring. Disappointing. Unworthy of a simple, stupid gift.

The shield of coldness cracked. Ciel almost gasped when more hurt poured out — terrible, crushing hurt that he had no idea how to deal with. Before, rage saved him by giving him a reprieve, but he didn't even have to try to know that he wouldn't be able to summon it now.

His rage was dead. Shrivelled to nothing because of the sheer number of injuries inflicted on him in a short period.

However… maybe he didn't need rage now. A new emotion was hissing to life, and it was so close to hatred that Ciel didn't know how else to call it. No other definition fit.

He had felt many things for Sebastian before. But no matter what happened, he had never felt such a pure, raw hatred. Not until now.

A blanket of a new kind of coldness wrapped around him. Ciel tilted his head, staring at Sebastian, thinking.

He'd have to make plans. To devise strategies. But before he got to it, he had to put everything into its rightful place.

"I've been musing about our earlier conversation," he said evenly. "Tell me, Sebastian, where do demons live?"

He was treated to an uncomprehending, bewildered stare.

"In Hell," Sebastian uttered. He dared to sound irritated, like answering Ciel's questions was a waste of his time.

The hate flared brighter, and with it came another wave of calmness. Ciel smiled, relaxing into this serenity that was rapidly filling him.

"And where is Hell located? Isn't it somewhere underground?"

"Yes. Although not in the specific sense that humans imagine."

Ciel thought as much. This fit right into his plans. His smile widened, and he noticed how Sebastian narrowed his eyes warily in response.

"That means you are lowly creatures, doesn't it?" he asked politely. "In quite a literal sense of this word. Not only that — you and I have already established that you depend on humans for survival. You depend on me. Demons need humans, but humans do not need demons. What you offer is a gift and a curse that some people might be happy to receive, but if they all refused, they'd still continue to live their lives. You, on the other hand…" Ciel shrugged, making a quick dismissive gesture with his hand. "You would die out. That's the difference between us, and it clearly puts you beneath me."

Sebastian actually seemed stunned. Ciel hadn't elaborated on this connection between humans and demons sufficiently in their previous conversation, so it felt especially pleasing to cover this part now, when he desperately needed any ammunition.

"Without me, you would have rotted in that cage," Sebastian told him darkly. He stared back, emanating nothing but contempt. "Without me, you would have never managed to make progress in the underworld — you'd be dead years ago. You make more enemies in a month than regular humans make in a lifetime. You'd die as your father's son, not as your own person."

Ciel refused to flinch, even though the barbs reached the vulnerable spot Sebastian had been no doubt aiming for.

He didn't know what hurt more, the words themselves or the derisive, uncaring tone in which they were spoken. On the other hand, each of them was true, so it's not like Ciel could argue with them.

"Of course," he admitted. "No one would have come to release me, so I'd be tortured some more and then I'd be killed. Just like those other children were tortured and killed."

For some reason, this made Sebastian bristle. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ciel didn't grant him this opportunity.

"I wanted to be saved," he continued. "Just like I want you to help me to identify the people responsible for my misfortune. But I never needed it. Because demons do not really help. I was marked for death from the moment I was abducted: you gave me a reprieve, but you didn't save me. Whether I died then or I'll die in a few years — it will happen anyway, and the specifics do not matter all that much. In the end, I'll still meet my fate."

The more he spoke, the angrier Sebastian looked. It was almost funny: nothing Ciel said was a lie, so he wasn't certain what frustrated Sebastian so much. Perhaps he was still reeling from having demons' inferiority thrown into his face.

If so, it was worth expanding on.

"You, however, would have lost a source of nourishment without me," Ciel added, watching attentively how Sebastian's jaw clenched. "And without other humans, you'd go extinct. So you can delude yourself all you want by preaching about your superiority. In reality, while you and I depend on each other, you need me more than I need you. Or has it changed? Are we terminating our contract now that you can't indulge yourself by looking at my soul?"

The room, which was already dark, darkened further. There was a subtle greenish glow emanating from Sebastian's form now, and despite everything, Ciel couldn't stifle a tiny spark of fascination.

"I have told you before," Sebastian said tensely. "I will not release you from the contract."

"Good," Ciel snapped. The change of his tone to a vicious one clearly took Sebastian aback — he almost jerked in surprise. "Then let's make something clear. Your ridiculous behaviour stops now. I don't give a damn about what spell some other idiot demon used on you and what it does. You swore to serve me, you are my butler, so start acting like it! No more of this tortured act. Do your job and never waste my time again on your personal trivial matters. Is that understood?"

For a moment, he almost thought that Sebastian looked guilty. But this look faded quickly. Dark resentment took its place.

"Of course, my lord," he uttered derisively. "Is that all? It is well past your bedtime. You will have trouble waking up tomorrow."

"You should have thought of it prior to entering my room and stealing my things," Ciel replied coldly. "Now get out. And mind your attitude. If you disrespect me again, you won't like the consequences."

Sebastian dared to give him a long unimpressed stare before bowing shallowly and leaving the room. As soon as the door closed, Ciel dropped back into his bed and hid under the covers.

His heart was still beating erratically, but he was feeling better. He'd lost a lot of positions lately, and tonight marked the day when he started getting them back.

But it wasn't enough. He needed a plan that would make Sebastian see the absurdity of his behaviour. What was a soul in the first place? Did it include the brain or was it solely spiritual? If it was the latter, which part was responsible for his actions — his brain or his soul?

His heated skin began to cool. Ciel shivered, rolling himself into a smaller ball.

Asking Sebastian wasn't an option. Even if he did, what made Sebastian an expert, just the fact that he was eating souls? A person could be good and have a pure soul, and then they'd commit a crime so terrible that it'd distort it to the point of unrecognition. If a demon saw the soul of this person before and after the crime, they'd probably think they were looking at two different people.

A pure soul wasn't supposed to commit something violent, but the owner of this soul could. Because they had a brain and a heart, and they made choices that didn't always correspond to the state of their souls.

Souls weren't everything. They weren't the only thing that made a person, and there had to be something Ciel could do to make Sebastian understand it.

It was probably better to go to sleep now and to think of everything tomorrow, but his aggravation refused to let go. It kept roiling in him like a pile of annoying insects, chasing away any chance he had at falling asleep.

Sebastian thought him boring now because he couldn't see his soul. He thought that whatever progress they had made in their— relationship? Contract? That it was nothing but a reflection of his hunger.

Dismissing the fact that Sebastian was an idiot who equated hunger to interest, how could Ciel teach him a lesson?

They needed a game, this was obvious. A game where different people would surprise Sebastian despite him being able to sense their souls, doing something they weren't expected to do. A game that would make Sebastian understand that a soul alone didn't make anyone more or less interesting — didn't make Ciel less interesting.

He was more than his soul. He would prove it. But where could he find people he could use for his plan, and how could he make sure that they played their roles well?

The murky ideas at the back of his mind began to take shape. Suddenly excited, Ciel threw the covers away and walked to his table, looking for a quill.

Sebastian's acquaintance might have made his life needlessly harder, but he had acquaintances of his own. And he could bet that all of them had the power to challenge Sebastian's overestimation of the souls — provided that they had guidance.

Ciel would be more than happy to lead them. However…

He paused, staring at the still-blank piece of parchment.

He didn't want to simply make a point. He wanted to beat Sebastian when doing it. For that to happen, he had to play, too — and he had to play better.

His game had to be the reflection of Sebastian's game with the teachers. Different people having different roles to play… Only back then, the game had been aimed at Ciel first and foremost: Sebastian knew every answer while Ciel had to make guesses. This time, they had to start equally, and the result had to include something other than a simple victory.

Humans could be just a meal to demons, but there was more to them than this. They were weaker, sure, and they didn't have any supernatural skills, but if Ciel managed to get a group of them to surprise Sebastian at once… to confuse him, to challenge him, to make him admit that he couldn't predict everything he thought he knew despite all his powers and his ability to sense souls… If he did this, if he succeeded, he'd increase his own value and probably the value of humans overall in Sebastian's eyes.

Winning wouldn't be a problem. Ciel was fairly confident of his observation skills, and since Sebastian over-relied on souls when assessing what a person was capable of, Ciel would have an advantage. But if he were to play, he'd need another partner, someone who would be overseeing the process.

His hesitation was brief. More ideas slotted into their places, and Ciel smiled, going back to the parchment.

Bard was the best available choice. The only choice, when it came to it. Ciel would plan the game and Bard would organise it.

Now all he had to do was choose the pawns.

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When Ciel went down to the dining room in the morning, his eyes were falling shut, but his plans were drawn, perfected, and finished. Determination and eagerness kept him from falling asleep, so he managed to finish his breakfast properly.

The only thing that bothered him was Sebastian. He slipped back into his butler role flawlessly, but there was a problem: nothing about his behaviour, bows, or the way he addressed him felt genuine. Ciel's skin continued to crawl in response to scorn, disappointment, and flashes of disgust he could catch every other moment, and predictably, this breathed more fury into him.

Sebastian still believed that he could reduce him to his soul alone and treat him like a useless vessel with no consequences. Very well. Ciel would have to add another point to the game he had planned.

"Bard and I will go to London again today," he said, sipping his tea. "I need to—"

"No," Sebastian interrupted him. Ciel blinked, wondering if he heard it wrong. But no — Sebastian assumed the stance he usually took when they were about to enter an argument. His face was grim, his resolution palpable.

"I don't recall asking your permission." What a strange reaction. He would have attributed it to Sebastian's infuriating barrier to seeing him independently from his soul, but with everything he knew about the situation, this explanation didn't make much sense. "I'm going to London today. Bard will—"

"You cannot go to London," Sebastian repeated. His eyes flared red with a warning — as if this could intimidate Ciel. "You cannot go anywhere until the spell is removed and I become capable of sensing your soul again. You went last time and you came back injured, something I still intend to investigate. This is an unacceptable outcome, and I won't allow this to happen again."

Oh. This was something Ciel didn't consider. And he couldn't deny it, Sebastian's protectiveness, distant as it was, soothed some of the angriest wounds a little.

"Well," he murmured, "then I suppose you can come with me. But—"

"No," Sebastian interrupted him again. His voice was full of such unshakable resolution that Ciel almost felt impressed. "The seal, while it's working, is no longer effective. I might not be able to sense any danger to you before it becomes too late. I am not going to take such risks. Until the spell is gone, you will have to stay inside the manor, where the danger is minimal."

"But Elisabeth's birthday is in two days, and I promised to pay her a visit!"

He hoped this would make Sebastian hesitate, but apparently, his wariness went deeper than his usual concern over Ciel maintaining manners befit an earl. He remained unmovable.

"I am certain you will be able to come up with a good excuse for your absence."

The need to rebel surged up by instinct, and Ciel bit his tongue before an immediate protest slipped out.

He wasn't looking to have another argument with Sebastian right now, especially not over such a trivial matter. He supposed it wouldn't be that bad to stay inside, and it gave him an excuse to skip Elisabeth's stupid party. He'd just have to send her a more expensive gift.

And since he thought of it…

"Fine," he agreed. Sebastian looked briefly surprised at such quick capitulation. "I will stay home until your stupid curse falls. However, I cannot miss Elisabeth's birthday without offering some worthy alternative to my presence. Go to London, find something more impressive than what you usually choose for her."

Still appearing bemused, Sebastian bowed to him.

"Yes, my lord."

Ciel waited until Sebastian left, then waited some more just to be certain. When he could no longer detect even a whisper of his presence, he hurried to the kitchen, where Bard was trying to set something on fire. The moment he entered, Bard jerked and hid whatever he was holding behind his back, a guilty expression making his face look much younger.

"I don't care," Ciel told him before he had a chance to come up with some inane lie. "Drop the thing you're holding and come to my office. I have a special task for you."

Bard's eyes lit up.

"Right away!" he exclaimed eagerly. He threw some odd-looking construction away like Ciel had told him, and the next second, a small explosion shook the kitchen.

The sound was familiar by now, but it was still closer than what Ciel was used to. He jumped back automatically, adrenaline making his heart gallop, and the next second, he felt something sharp burrow itself right under his eye.

Great. Another annoying wound. What would Sebastian do next, forbid him to leave his room?

"Young Master!" Bard gasped. Since he'd stood closer to the explosion, he had more tiny bleeding scratches all over his face. "I'm so sorry! It wasn't supposed to — let me take a look. Mey-Rin! Tanaka! Fi—"

"Shut up!" Ciel spat. Bard's mouth instantly snapped closed. "I don't care about this, it's Sebastian's job to stop you from constantly setting our kitchen on fire. Come. We don't have much time."

Somehow, Bard looked even guiltier, but he nodded with some reluctance. He continued to mutter apologies as they went upstairs, and if Ciel wasn't as excited about the upcoming game, he would have snapped at him again.

In the safety of his office, he offered Bard the piece of parchment he'd filled out at night.

"I might be forced to stay in the manor for the next several weeks," he explained. "Undoubtedly, it'll be boring, so I devised a game I want us all to play."

"A game?" Bard repeated, looking at the parchment. He seemed confused, but easy acceptance was already finding its way on his face. "Sounds great. What kind of game?"

"I have a list with the names of eight people and eight roles they will have to play. Your task will be to decide which person receives which role. Neither I nor Sebastian can know about it. We will try to guess it based on everyone's modified behaviour."

Bard appeared intrigued as he began to scrutinise the parchment.

"Lau and Ran Mao," he read, "Finnie, Mey-Rin, me, Tanaka, Undertaker… Lord Randall?" He looked up, horrified. "Young Master! This can't be a good idea, not after what happened last time. And all these other people… players… I was hoping you'd make a game with someone more appropriate for you. Like Lady Elisabeth. Doesn't she have a birthday coming up? Perhaps you could invite her—"

"No!" Ciel yelled. The mere idea nearly killed all his mood. "Don't make such stupid suggestions. This is no place for Elisabeth. Besides, the stakes are going to be real, so she'd only complicate everything."

Bard squinted.

"What stakes?" he asked suspiciously. When Ciel said nothing, he re-read the list, and Ciel saw the moment the understanding dwelled.

Covertly, he glanced at the clock.

This was going to take a while.

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Bard yelled a lot. It took twenty-three minutes to talk him into accepting Ciel's idea, and ten more to coax him into agreeing to organise it. By the end of it, he still looked troubled and conflicted, but the worst part was over, and Ciel finally relaxed.

"Since I cannot leave the manor, I'll write everyone a personal letter," he said. "You'll deliver them tomorrow. I don't imagine anyone will oppose my plan, but if they do, try to talk them into participating anyway. If this fails, let me know and I'll deal with it — but remember, you have to be discreet. Neither I nor Sebastian should know what roles the others will receive."

"Yeah, I got that," Bard muttered. He had a contemplative look on his face. "I still don't like it, but I will do it."

"Good. Thank you. Now leave and make any preparations you deem necessary. Oh, and send Sebastian into my office when you see him."

Bard departed with a nod, and Ciel collapsed into his chair with a contented sigh.

Everything was going according to plan. There was another little detail he hadn't mentioned to Bard yet, but he would do it later, after announcing it to Sebastian first.

What was it Sebastian had said about the purpose of the spell? That it meant to show that humans were 'lowly creatures' incapable of any 'astonishing feats'? Ciel had already refuted the first part to the best of his abilities, now he and the acquaintances of his would deal with the second part. The pawns would demonstrate that even with their souls on display, they could still confuse Sebastian into misidentifying them; Ciel, in turn, would prove that he could win this game, and that no matter how much Sebastian basked in his superiority, he was still universes away from understanding all nuances of humans and their behaviour. He could eat a million souls and not get any closer to it.

Ciel tried to concentrate on the letters that piled up on his table, but his thoughts kept distracting him. When a slight chill travelled through the air and the subtlest traces of the familiar scent hit him, he perked up.

Sebastian was back.

Ciel didn't have to wait long: soon enough, the door opened and Sebastian walked inside with an elegant-looking case in his hands.

"I believe I've found an appropriate gift," he said. Carefully, he opened the case and revealed a golden hairpin decorated with emeralds. It looked expensive yet stopped short of being tacky, so Ciel nodded in approval.

"This will do," he uttered. "Make sure to send it tomorrow. I'll give you a letter to attach. Now, take a seat. There is something we need to discuss."

Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian obeyed, and his eyes immediately went to the little wound on Ciel's face. His expression darkened.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" he asked icily. The room was already cold, and Sebastian's anger made it chillier. "Are you enjoying bringing harm to yourself when I'm gone?"

For some reason, this accusation felt too personal. Ciel shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to touch the old scar from where Madam Red had stabbed him.

"Don't be ridiculous," he murmured. "It was an accident in the kitchen."

Instead of accepting this response and shutting up, Sebastian only glowered further.

"Are you expecting me to believe that you willingly went to the kitchen and tried to cook something?"

"What?" Ciel was increasingly more confused. He'd been anticipating the moment where he shared his plans with Sebastian, but this useless conversation kept taking unexpected turns. "Of course not. Who do you take me for?"

"Then what happened?"

"Bard and his stupid experiments happened! Are you done now?"

"Bard," Sebastian repeated. His voice grew sharper. "Again. This is the second time in a row I leave you in his company and you walk away with an injury."

This was getting absurd.

"This tiny scratch is in no way comparable to the injuries I got because of you," Ciel growled. "I have a neck full of bruises to prove it." For a moment, Sebastian actually looked dismayed. "Never mind it. Forget Bard. If I am to be stuck in this house until your stupid spell is lifted, I am going to make this experience entertaining. So, we'll be having some guests over. Prepare four bedrooms for them. They will move in within this week."

The absolute astonishment painting itself across Sebastian's face was delightful. Ciel fought a pleased smirk.

"You invited four strangers to stay with us?" Sebastian asked incredulously. "Indefinitely?"

"Well, they aren't really strangers. And they'll stay for as long as we're playing a game."

This got him an even more intense interest. Sebastian tilted his head, and the first flickers of understanding touched his gaze.

"A game," he repeated. "May I ask who the players are going to be?"

Ciel was waiting for this question.

"From the ones who'll move in, Undertaker, Lau and Ran Mao, as well as Lord Randall," he said. Without stopping to let Sebastian react, he continued, "I was pondering if Lau and Ran Mao need separate rooms because I'm certain they'll share one, with her being his bodyguard, but the rules of propriety demand—"

"Lord Randall," Sebastian said. He managed to sound shocked, appalled, and impressed all at once. "You convinced Lord Randall to join one of your games?"

"A surprising feat, isn't it?" Ciel asked coldly. "Yes, he will be playing. The other players are Bard, Finnie, Mey-Rin, Tanaka, and you and I."

Sebastian mulled it over for a while. His face reflected controlled curiosity, as if he wanted to feel excited but refused to let himself experience it.

"What are the rules?" he inquired finally.

"I based them on one of your games. When you hired those fake teachers. Remember?"

A quick subtle grimace contorted Sebastian's face, and Ciel congratulated himself once again. There was nothing better than seeing Sebastian choke on his non-victory.

"I determined eight roles that each of the mentioned people will assume — apart from me and you. They will be committing to them fully, meaning that regardless of what the role demands of them, they will do it. You and I won't know which role they received: we will be determining it after the fact based on an investigation."

Sebastian nodded slowly. He seemed interested, but some of the bewilderment didn't leave his face — he was probably wondering what the point was. Ciel was happy to enlighten him.

"We will play," he said softly, "and we will see how these eight simple-minded people make a fool of you. We'll see how you succeed in understanding what they are and whether you'll be able to beat me to it. After all, you are a demon. A superior being. Solving a purely human mystery shouldn't be that difficult, should it?"

Finally, Sebastian understood. His confused interest shattered, giving way to coldness and cruelty Ciel was repeatedly finding himself the recipient of lately.

"We will play," Sebastian echoed, "and you will lose because this is not a game you're capable of winning. I know their souls. I understand how to differentiate between the faintest shades of them; I know how to read every shift and nuance in them. Whether the roles they'll be assigned will be those of criminals, gardeners, or adulterers, I will see through it quickly. There is no chance for any other outcome."

All right, now Ciel was officially angry. He knew he shouldn't let himself react to this, but the absolute confidence in Sebastian's voice, his condescending words and his self-important stance made him see red. Rage spiralled up, and Ciel tried to translate it into artificial calmness when he said, "If you're so certain, then how about we make a new bet? If I win, you will tell me your true name."

Sebastian's mouth twisted in a snarl.

"You are repeating yourself, my lord," he reminded him venomously. "You have already challenged me to it once, and you lost."

"Don't be an idiot. I'm demanding things not because they are creative but because I want to get them. At the moment, I want to know your real name. I asked for it before, I'm asking for it now, and I will ask for it again when the next game is in motion. It is your choice to adequately assess your chances and to decide whether you accept my challenge."

The deepest satisfaction unfurled in him when he saw the angry tremors of darkness on the edges of Sebastian's body. He was growing infuriated, too. Good. Two could play this game.

"I will accept your challenge," Sebastian said at last, "if you will accept mine. If I win — and I will win because you haven't thought this through — you will return the favour I gave you and you will allow me to drink your blood. It will not be a drop, however. It will not be a teaspoon or even a cup. I will drink until the moment you go limp and your exhausted mind drags you to the brink of your consciousness. Until every part of your body aches with emptiness. I will not kill you — but that's the only guarantee I will give."

Ciel realised that he was staring in complete silence only after Sebastian cocked his eyebrow expectantly. He didn't think he was capable of breathing right now, never mind talking.

It wasn't just that Sebastian's request was malicious. It was that the tone in which he spoke it brimmed with cruelty and the desire to hurt. To have it all aimed at him — over what? Being a human?

He tried to take a ragged inhale, but something heavy squeezed his lungs, not letting them work properly. It felt like Sebastian had punched a hole right through him, damaging something inside him irreversibly.

No. He couldn't fall apart now, when Sebastian was waiting for it. It was his game, and he would see it through.

"I accept it," Ciel said evenly. A nasty smile twitched on Sebastian's lips, so he felt compelled to add, "But for me to fulfil this part of the deal, you will have to identify a person who will be playing the role of a murderer. Like in your game, their task will be to kill me. Unlike in your game, they will succeed unless you or I expose them on time."

This erased the smile from Sebastian's face. It was his turn to stare now.

"You are forcing one of the people who work for you to kill you?" he clarified. His body began to tense, like he was preparing to counter danger.

"Except for Randall," Ciel pointed out flippantly. "Randall doesn't work for me. Quite the opposite, really."

"This is ludicrous. They won't do it."

"Oh, I assure you, they will. I know just the words to persuade them. And let's face it, at least a half of them will enjoy the attempt — they'll consider it amusing."

The remaining traces of hostility left Sebastian. He pursed his lips, his unease thickening to the point where Ciel could taste it in his mouth, in his broken lungs.

"That won't be all," he added. "One of them will be the assistant of this killer. One of them will be our ally. We will have one spy and two false suspects. Shall I go on? "

Sebastian stayed silent for a long time. Ciel could no longer read his face, so he just waited patiently, soaking in every minute in which Sebastian remained speechless.

"Fine," he said at long last. His body was still coiled in tension, his eyes darker than Ciel had ever seen them. "Go on."

What could Ciel do but oblige? But first, there was another little matter they had to settle.

Sebastian had been methodically dehumanising him by making it clear that without a proper soul, even though this soul was simply hidden, not gone, he could not see Ciel as someone worthy. It was time for him to taste his own medicine.

"There will be another change first," Ciel said. "I understand that until the spell is gone, you cannot find it in yourself to consider me a wholesome contractor. You've been barely managing to perform your services on a sufficient level. I do not find this situation acceptable. When you're like this, I do not recognise you any more than you recognise me, so I decided to share your approach."

Wariness and curiosity clearly fought for dominance in Sebastian — he gazed at Ciel unblinkingly, waiting for the rest yet looking as if he wasn't certain he wanted to hear it.

It was a good start.

"From now on," Ciel continued, "the name I gave you will be inactive. No one will be using it to refer to you. I, as well as our guests and servants, will be calling you 'demon' whenever we need your services. If anyone forgets this new rule and addresses you as Sebastian, you are to ignore them. Is that clear?"

Sebastian's eyes widened. For a few seconds, he didn't say anything, probably considering it, trying to imagine how applying Ciel's order to practise would look like. Whatever he concluded didn't please him. A muscle twitched in his jaw, his eyes darkening impossibly further.

"And how do you plan to make a big number of people refer to me in this manner without arousing their suspicions?" he asked coldly. Ciel gave him a serene smile.

"You will see," he promised. "Now, are you prepared to listen to the specifics of the upcoming game, demon?"

Silence lingered, and Ciel wondered if Sebastian was going to tear his throat out. His anger wasn't displayed openly, but something was happening — his stare was nothing short of deadly, the redness in his eyes approaching the blackest shade Ciel had seen on him.

Finally, what felt like minutes later, he nodded.

Good. The game was on.

A/N:

OnlyHere4Puckabrina, thank you so much for such an amazing review! I'm really glad you liked the evolution of Sebastian's thoughts and feelings :D He might have come to terms with his attachment, but he still has a veeeery long way to go. With Bard, he actually didn't entertain the thought that Sebastian might be in love with Ciel — he automatically decided that Sebastian's struggling with his purely platonic devotion. Bard thinks he got the wrong idea about Mey-Rin at first because Sebastian is a clueless fool who couldn't put his feelings into words properly. All things considered, Bard is a rather pure human being!

The blood drinking will definitely be referred to several times in the chapters. You're right, it's an important point.

Yes, Sebastian can kill Pluto to protect Ciel. I'm not sure if the hounds could change owners — I guess it's possible! I'll be following the canon story for Pluto, but there might be a few additions I could sneak in.

Having several contracts at once is rare for demons because in most cases, they finish everything quickly: as soon as they are done with one soul, they move on to another. But it's not forbidden — well, at least in my universe. But Ciel will find out, and it won't be pretty for sure :D

Thank you so much again, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Crockett Rocket and InkAndShadow, thank you both so much! I'm happy you've been enjoying the chapters and Sebastian's POV in particular. It's important for me to avoid repeating myself too much when we're seeing events we've already covered with Ciel.

alias, hey, thank you so much! I did watch the anime more times than I can count :D I love it so much, just as the entire universe of BB. Can't wait for a new season! I hope you're feeling better now 3

Oh, and yes, I do use they/them pronouns for the angel on purpose! I decided to follow this model: when Angela is in her pure human form, Sebastian refers to her as she; when it's Ash in his pure form, Sebastian refers to him as he; and when the angel regains their true form, it's they.

I'm actually a huge Hannibal fan! I have two long fics about them and many metas — I'm a mod on Hannibal's TV subreddit. My love for Hannigram is one of the reasons that attracted me to Sebaciel. So many dark similarities.

Aleta Wolff, haha, I am actually following anime in its entirety — I love S2 (it's such a love letter from Sebastian to Ciel), especially with Yana's beautiful art depicting demon!Ciel, and this is the outcome I prefer most for my boys. I don't think anything else would work: Ciel growing up, getting old and dying is too sad and tragic for me to fathom, and we know how Sebastian eating Ciel's ended with Yana's Red Valentine depiction. On the other hand, there is a million interesting plots to explore with Ciel getting to be a demon and sharing an eternity with Sebastian. No worries, though, I'll end the chapter showing the end of S1 in a way that will allow everyone not interested in reading further feel closure.

And thank you, I'm glad you liked Sebastian's chapter!

BloodiestMoon, thank you so much, I'm happy you liked this chapter! It's so flattering to hear that you spent 3 days doing nothing but reading 3 This new chapter was supposed to be long, too, but I got stuck and had to break it into two parts to post something sooner.

princesasuhina, thank you, I hope you enjoy the update!

C, Gremory is not Hannah, but yes, she'll come to regret her involvement at some stage in the future!

xoxo-No Name-xoxo, ah, thank you so much, it's so incredibly flattering that you've been re-reading this story! I really hope you like this new chapter as well, even though it had to have two parts at once. And yes, Ciel is unique in every way, but it'll take Sebastian a while to fully come to terms with this fact.

littleone4524, thank you! I love these boys so much 3

October's Daughter, thank you so much for your fantastic review! We'll learn quite a bit more about Hell further on, and Gremory will play some role for a very long time to come.

Haha, yeah, I love possessive Sebastian as well! And I'm also in love with idea of his demonic essence being a more honest and emotional part of him that is endlessly infatuated with Ciel. It can say so much about him, even in moments where they are having a conflict.

I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter! The second part should be out soon as well.