Hello people! Happy weekend to all!
Are you ready for a deep dive into the past of one of the most mysterious characters in Kuroshitsuji? Yes, Undertaker's flashback begins! Just a reminder, the manga hasn't showed or even implied anything specific about his story and the source of his madness, so it was an open field for me to fill with speculations! A huge thanks to my best friend, who helped me tremedously in the psychological aspect of Undertaker's character. Also, when writing this, we only knew that he is harvesting blood... so I was still trying to be a little sympathetic to him, instead of picturing him as an utter villain as it is currently implied in the manga.
Regardless, please, enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or its characters. I entirely own only my OCs, arcs and ideas/themes not mentioned in any form of the franchise (manga, anime, games, movies or musicals).
Chapter 61: The Tutor, The Beginning of Everything
He yawned for the umpteenth time tonight, sitting deep in the armchair in the dark corner of the candlelit bedroom, the huge metallic death scythe, adorned with an equally huge skeleton, rested on the wall beside him. Invisible from the mortal eyes he was waiting for his time to come, the dying woman to leave her last breath so he could reap her cinematic records and be done for the day... finally. But things were taking too long and he was bored as hell.
"She will die either way, why does she not accept it already?" He thought, twirling some of his silver long locks between his fingers.
"Cl-Cla-Claudia..." The young woman sweating and shivering on the bed called weakly. A yellowish hue on her skin made her look like a candle melting away.
"Yes, dear. I will call to bring her right away." The... not broken, not devastated... let us say just sad and troubled man in the chair beside the bed said and got up, opened the room's door and whispered something to whoever was standing outside.
The silver haired reaper lifted his spectacles and rubbed his sleepy eyes. One more tearful scene of goodbyes would follow, he was certain, and all this sentimentality and sappiness bored him to death... or rather to second death.
As expected, the door opened and a seven year old girl bolted in the room crying already, for goodness sake! Before anyone could help her, she had climbed on the bed and huddled in her dying mother's chest, begging not to leave her alone. The reaper paid no attention to what mother and daughter said, their last conversation... Either way, he had heard countless similar exchanges and had achieved the desirable level of apathy his kind and line of work demanded.
The woman's breathing became more laboured and the girl's cries more desperate; yes, that was his cue. He took the scythe in his gloved hands, straightened his glasses and got up. Two steps and he was almost over the woman, who right then left her last breath, and a whirling sound was heard as strips of her cinematic records started coming out of her chest.
"Francis Phantomhive, born on the 9th of October of 1815, died on the 18th of June of 1837... Nothing of notice, case closed." The grim reaper said to himself, checking the woman's entry in his notebook, sealed it, put the notebook back in his pocket and got ready to cut the records.
"No, sir! Please, do not take mama away! She is good, never harmed anyone! Please!" The girl started crying; her blue tearful eyes fixed on him and her little, chubby hand stretched towards him, as if she wanted to halt the sharp blade coming down on her mother.
The reaper froze in mid movement, his yellow-green eyes widening totally surprised behind black-rimmed glasses. It was impossible, it should be impossible for a mortal eye, not on the verge of death, to be able to see him, but this little girl obviously could. She kept begging him and her father - frustrated and worried - circled her waist and took her off her dead mother.
"Come on, sweetheart. We talked about mama's big journey to God. It hurts us but we are strong and we will get over it, right?" The man said, hugging his daughter and kissing her soft hair, of the same dark-bluish colour as his, trying to console her.
"No! If this mister does not take her away! Please, papa, tell him to bring her back!" The girl insisted struggling to slip away from her father's arms and reach the tall, silver haired figure still standing at the side of the bed, staring at her utterly surprised.
"Honey, there is no one there. Please, calm down!" The father said more worried as he checked the girl's forehead with his palm. "Oh God, she is burning up from the shock, she is delirious and hallucinating. Please, take her to her room. Doctor, if you would be so kind..." He said, as he passed the crying and screaming girl in the arms of an older woman and looked at the medical man.
Both governess and doctor nodded and left the room with the girl, who did not stop pleading and staring at the vacant, to everyone else's eyes, space at the side of the bed. The reaper remained frozen and quite dumbfounded for a few seconds, staring at the closed door from which the girl had just exited... Could there be a human who could see supernatural creatures, even when fully cloaked? Generally speaking, human children were quite sensitive and perceptive to the supernatural the first months of their lives, but that stopped after the completion of their first year. At the age of seven they certainly could not see anything beyond the veil of corporeal.
A different whirling sound, meaning the woman's cinematic record reached its end, took him out of his thoughts. He signed, shrugged his shoulders dismissing the matter, swung his scythe cutting the record and in a blink of an eye he was gone.
"...136649... Afterlife Citizen 136649, Othello calling. Are you receiving? Whitey!" The dark-greenish haired reaper said and waved his hand in front of his interlocutor's eyes catching his attention.
The man flinched as his eyes focused back on the other reaper. He was sitting on a stool on wheels, slightly turning a little right and left, his back and elbows resting on the table behind him, filled with test tubes the other one used in his experiments.
"What was it, Othello?" He said, casually untangling his fingers from his twirled locks.
"Nothing much, you just zoned out... again. Hey, hey, do not tell me you are thinking about how the new, ridiculously young Queen will handle things, like everyone else does?" The scientist reaper said and grinned teasingly at his silver haired peer.
The other one scoffed. "Like I care what human kings and queens do. The sure thing is that no matter how innocent and good natured she looks, she will conduct some war or other and we will be quite busy as always... that is what interests me."
"Then... where is your mind this last week? For some reason, you visit me often, do a little small talk as always and then sit there thinking... Do not tell me you are thinking again of trying to rebel?" The geeky reaper opened wide, interested eyes, as he rolled on his own stool closer to the other. "By the way... will you ever tell anyone why you attempted to do so or will you keep it private forever, like your lists? You never said a word even when we worked together for three years."
'Whitey' smiled to Othello. "You are smart as always, but gossiping is not always good. No, I am not attempting another rebellion and no, no one will ever find out what triggered it. Those who need to know already do and it is no one else's business." His tone, although friendly and cheerful, left no room for questions. A few minutes went by in silence and he talked again. "You know... I have been thinking... We can be seen only by people in the final moment of their death, right?" Othello nodded. "Have you ever read any report about being seen by a human who is not about to die any time soon?"
"Hmm... maybe someone who has a near-death experience?" Othello said shrugging.
"No, I am not talking about near-death experience. That is reasonable and expected."
"So... you mean a totally ordinary human being able to see you when... you cross the street, for example?" Othello asked and his eyes opened wide behind his glasses, as the other one nodded agreeing. "Wow... No, I do not think that can happen, I mean... it would be very peculiar, let alone dangerous... for the human mostly. And being totally ordinary, simple, plain human... No, no, no, it cannot happen. But, why are you asking? Has it happened to you? If so, please show me this human and I will get right down to studying them, find what is going on!"
The silver haired reaper kept staring his colleague with goggled eyes and pulled a little back, as the other one was getting more excited by the second. "No, no human can see me. I am not asking out of personal experience, but simple curiosity." He said casually.
"Really?" Othello grimaced in disappointment and then sighed when the other one nodded.
"You know, while waiting for stubborn humans to die, you have plenty of time to think many things, philosophical, spiritual and stuff." 'Whitey' explained and giggled lightly.
"Yeah, yeah, I would not know. I usually have no time to spare to think something other than my experiments." Othello said, waving one hand dismissing the ridiculous idea of having spare time to think things that might not have answers. "Anyway, I do not remember reading anything like that in any of our books, like ever. If that is a good enough for you answer."
"Absolutely. It was a ridiculous idea to think of in the first place." The other reaper said with a wide smile as he got up from the stool, stretched his tall body and tapped Othello's shoulder in goodbye.
However, Othello's answer was far from satisfying, on the contrary it triggered the experienced reaper's curiosity even more, resulting in not being able to forget the little girl begging him for her mother, and a couple of days later he found himself wandering in the garden of that manor outside London.
"Perhaps it was her emotional state making her more sensitive... Yes, that is the answer! So, I will just check, to be certain and leave immediately." He said to himself, nodded and approached a corner of the garden where the little girl was... supposed to play, but in reality she was sitting crying silently, while her governess was dozing off a few metres away.
He literally strolled towards the girl, looking if she will sense him at all. He had reached quite close with no sign of getting noticed, but the moment he was ready to sigh relieved at how right he was, a small voice made him freeze on the spot.
"Did you come to bring my mother back... Mister?"
The reaper stared at the girl once again and grew more surprised as he met her blue eyes, reddened and puffy from crying but fixed on him with pain, anticipation and... hope. The man lost his words as this development was the last thing he expected.
"Please, sir. Speak to me. Tell me if you can bring my mama back!" The girl said, as she stood up with determination in her now furrowed eyebrows and pouting lips. She looked like a porcelain doll but so serious at the same time and that made her... so cute; that thought crossed the reaper's mind making him lose his cool entirely.
"I... Umm... I am... Hmm... I must- I must leave actually... right now... Bye!" He finally said and bolted in the air; the girl's cries and the governess' bleary "My young lady!" following him for a second.
After a while, he landed on the roof of a London building and sat down to collect himself and his thoughts. First of all, he just verified the incident with the girl was not just a one time thing caused by emotional stress or anything. Sure, the girl still looked quite involved and preoccupied with the loss of her mother, still grieving deeply, but... something told him she would be able to see him even if she was the happiest person in the world. So, she was not a simple human? But he did not sense anything supernatural from her, she was a plain human. Perhaps he should speak to Othello openly and together research this peculiar case. Truth is, being seen by non-dying humans was the last thing grim reapers needed; it would turn everything upside down and make their job harder.
Othello's look during their last discussion flashed in his mind, making him shake his head dismissing the idea. The reaper was usually calm and silent, but, as a true scientist, showed a totally different side - that of the mad scientist - when something caught his attention. The girl was too innocent, not realising the strange and dangerous situation she was in, and the silver haired reaper knew he would not live with himself if she ended up imprisoned in a laboratory.
Suddenly, a piercing pain strangling his heart and spreading in his body took his breath away and made him gasp for a few minutes. "Alright, that was a good one." He said to himself and giggled once the pain subsided; really, he had not been bothered by it for quite sometime now. "Calm down, do not lose your head over emotions and keep them at bay. Let us see what options we have about the girl." He finished and fell into deep thought.
On the one hand, he knew he should report this strange occurrence and investigate with the rest of reapers, but on the other hand, something inside him rebelled in the idea of striping the girl of the chance of a normal life and dooming her in becoming a lab rat or something like that. No matter how much he tried to suppress that something with cold logic, he failed, making the pain worse. He walked up and down the roof for quite some time, trying to figure out how to handle the case and in the end decided that since he was a high-rank reaper, he was more than capable in discreetly investigating, finding the reason and then reporting to the others. Yes, that was the right and best course of action to follow.
And thus, a few days later he was once again at the Phantomhive manor, waiting for the governess to sleep, after making sure her young lady was safely playing with her new doll in her usual spot in the garden. Once the woman let out a small snore, the reaper got closer and the girl immediately lifted her head and looked at him. She seemed calmer even though sadness seemed to have found permanent residence in her big blue eyes.
"Sir, I will not ask you to bring mama back if it makes you angry and leave... please do not leave again." She whispered and silently as a cat got closer to where he stood. "Is that why you left last time? You got angry with me?" Doe eyes staring up at him.
The reaper kneeled in front of her and let his scythe on the ground; he got surprised to see her eyes following the sharp instrument with interest instead of fear, as it would be expected. The next moment they were back on him, staring and examining his yellow-green eyes and pale face, his silver long locks seemed to intrigue her quite a lot since she stretched one hand - the other still clutching her doll tightly - to touch them and be fascinated by how soft they felt.
"Little girl, are you not afraid of me?" He asked with a low, soft voice. The girl shook her head. "Are you not afraid I might take you away as I did to your mama?" Again she replied the same way.
"If you take me to where mama is, I do not mind."
"Oh, and what about your papa? Will he not be sad to lose you?"
The small face got instantly hard, her brows furrowed more and her lips tightened. "Papa and grandpa do not care! They put mama quickly in the ground and after that, got very busy talking about a new queen all the time and how papa will prove he is a good dog... or something like that, like grandpa was for the king."
The reaper could not contain himself and a giggle escaped his throat. He was not sure if he found funny the little girl's so serious face or the naked truth she unwittingly said. Yes, he remembered years, perhaps even centuries ago, when the title of the Crown's Watchdog was established and since then every king, or even queen, named a noble family as their Watchdog. He found quite amusing the antithesis of the idea; a noble family messing with the dirty and foul underworld of the kingdom in order to keep the Crown sparkling clean.
"I am the only one still remembering and crying for mama, when the others have balls and laugh and praise this queen... and I miss mama so much, I was never alone when I was with her." New tears flowed from her eyes, stifled sobs shook her body and then suddenly she fell on the man's chest, burying her face in his silver mane.
The reaper's laughter had evaporated, feeling the small body shaking on his chest. Without realising, his arms closed around the girl and, as if that was his permission to her, she surrendered herself to crying, wrapping her chubby arms around his neck and forgetting the new, beautiful doll her father gave her this morning dropped on the ground.
The pain from the other day returned and realised he was allowing himself to succumb to one more moment of weakness and needless sentimentality, but he really could not bring himself to rudely push away this so little, hurt human... reminding him so much of... He shook his head to send the image away and instantly the pain lessened even a little. He continued gently stroking the crying girl's soft hair as he stole a glance towards the sleeping governess. It was good that her sleep was so heavy as the scent of alcohol coming out of her snoring mouth, otherwise the woman would wake up from the girl's cries only to find her hugging the empty space.
Twenty minutes later, the girl had calmed down, the man had wiped the tears from her face and helped her blow her nose in his handkerchief, but she did not seem willing to get out of his loose embrace any time soon... the reaper started feeling at a loss, not knowing what else to do.
"So you did not come to take me away too?" She hesitantly asked after a while. "Why not?" She continued with agony when the man shook his head. "Why did you take away mama, when she was so good and kind but not me when I am such a bad girl?"
"Who says you are a bad girl?" The reaper asked, unable to believe this girl, with so pure and honest feelings, could be bad in any way.
"I do not smile when papa shows me to his friends, I do not want to play piano for them, I get angry at papa when he does not come to kiss me goodnight... and that is when Miss Fairfax..." She pointed at the sleeping woman. "...tells me I turned to a bad girl after mama died, I never listen to her as I did to mama and that makes papa sad." She folded her arms on her chest and scowled, showing how much she did not agree with this idea.
The reaper wanted to laugh again but held it back. "Oh, I do not think you are a bad girl, at all. You are just sad and in pain, it will get better in time, you can tell how you feel to your papa and ask him not to push you so much."
"He will not understand, he says I 'ruin his image'... I do not know what he means by that."
"Well, the truth is he did not look very sentimental to me either, but he seemed to care and love you, does he not?"
"He does but never has time for me!" She insisted and absent-mindedly started braiding a lock of hair at the right side of the reaper's head.
"Hmm... in that case..." The silver haired reaper said and for the next half hour he kept talking with the little girl, trying to find a way for her to approach her father and communicate her feelings to him. "Oh dear, how time flew. I have to get back." He said at some point checking his pocket watch.
"Will you visit again? Please do!" The girl pleaded and her eyes were sparkling but not from tears this time.
"Oh, I should not... but I will, if you promise me you will not cry asking me to take you to your mama." He succumbed to the blue, puppy eyes of the girl begging him.
"If you explain me why not. Why mama had to go to Heaven but I cannot... since you say I am not a bad girl." A small impish smile bloomed on her lips, seeing the man not knowing what to answer.
"Goodness, you are good at bargaining. Alright, I will try to explain how things work, if you promise me you will try and talk to your father about what you told me... and do not tell anyone for my coming here, please." It was his turn to look at her a little pleadingly.
"Deal! No one would believe me if I told them about you, they did not believe me the first time and thought I was ill... I was but I was not dela... deli... delititious." She said and offered him her hand, as she had seen her father doing numerous times when he made deals with others.
The reaper giggled once again at the girl's cute mistake and shook hands with her; perhaps he was enjoying a little too much how serious she could get if she wanted. They said their goodbyes and the reaper got ready to bolt up in the air, after collecting his scythe from the ground.
"Wait! My name is Claudia! What is yours?"
The reaper nodded, remembering the dying woman calling that name before the girl appeared, and opened his mouth to answer but something stopped him. "How would you like to call me?" He asked instead.
The girl thought for a while. "How about Silver? I like your hair very much."
The man smiled and nodded in agreement, jumped into the air and waved at the girl, that kept waving at him even when he was gone. He had the feeling that tonight the girl, Claudia, would sleep well after a long time, as she had informed him, and that put a sane smile on his lips too; a really rare sight.
"This will be the last time I meet with Claudia. I will explain her the situation, she is a smart girl, will understand, and then I will bid her goodbye for good. Either way, she has recovered from her mother's death, communicates with her father properly and started entering human society normally again. She does not need me."
These were the words the reaper kept saying to himself trying to get persuaded to leave the little girl alone and for him to stop meddling in human affairs, as the reapers' rules prohibited; but never managed to actually do what he knew he had to. The girl's presence in his life was a refreshing change, pushing away his eternal loneliness, sadness and boredom. Spending centuries upon centuries invisible to human eyes, seeing without being able to be seen, unless humans were about to die or by none other than his reaper peers, was too much for the Afterlife Citizen 136649 and his boredom had reached the highest levels.
After that event, that determined his fate and final death, at the turn of this century, his life had become more empty and boring. He executed his duties as a reaper of the Retrieval Department with no interest or even willingness; his mind often got lost in gloomy thoughts, that even the jokes he insistently asked his colleagues to tell him did not sent away. However, after starting visiting Claudia and spending time with the seven year old girl, talking and even playing as time went by, his life and work had become somehow interesting again. He was always alert and focused in reaping before a filthy demon appeared, trying to snatch and gobble the dying person's soul, and in general his performance had improved giving him more free time to spend with the girl... in secret of course.
By removing his glasses every time he visited - a reaper's spectacles were made so that always tracking the wearer's position - he had managed to keep their meetings secret for almost two years. That pain was giving him trouble more often now, but he found that chatting happily with his young friend or remembering their discussions, that sometimes were totally childish and sometimes really interesting, as Claudia seemed to have a very mature way of thinking for her young age, helped him endure and even get used to it so that no one got suspicious of his true state. Anyway, he felt that these two years were the happiest of his afterlife and everything seemed to go perfectly well... Until one day, when his superior called him to the headquarters.
When he came out of the Chief's office... he felt so broken, the pain strangling his heart. As expected, his visits to Claudia had become known and he was ordered to cut any ties with the girl. The Grim Reapers' duty was that of an observer of human history and just making sure events will unfold as they should, but in no way participating and affecting these events.
The other problem was that Afterlife Citizen 136649 had gotten quite attached, emotionally, to the human girl and that would only speed up his condition, making the Thorns of Death - the only serious ailment that could cause even the death of a reaper - to take over his body and literally strangle his heart and mind. The Grim Reapers community could not allow losing a legendary contributor as Afterlife Citizen 136649 was, that was why he had to distance himself from the girl and the emotions she caused him, otherwise... things could turn dangerous for her.
The silver haired reaper was cornered really badly; he had to make a choice and... as much as it pained him, he preferred never to see the small, bright human girl again, than having to bear the weight of another child's death. He managed to get permission to at least say goodbye to her and try to explain the situation. With a heavy heart, he dragged his legs to take him to human plane and the girl.
"Silver!" The nine year old Claudia cried out happily, as soon as her supernatural friend appeared in the manor's library, where the girl was studying her daily lessons alone, at her tutor's request. Her face brightened but then clouded, seeing the tall man pale and sweaty, gasping and leaning on his long, metal scythe while one hand was clutching his clothes on his chest. "Silver, what is the matter? Are you sick?" She asked worriedly and pushed a chair close to him.
Her friend did not deny the sitting and literally collapsed on the chair, he took a few quick breaths while trying to reassure the girl with a wide smile. His gloved hand released his chest and patted Claudia's soft, dark bluish hair.
"I am alright now, dear Claudia. Although... the truth is that I am a little sick lately." He smiled tiredly behind his glasses. He kept them on this time, since the reapers would know he would be here and needed to be able to clearly see the girl's face, carve it in his memory and never forget it.
The happiness and excitement he felt every time he met the girl had evaporated at the thought this was the last time seeing the only human he cared about, the only creature that could understand him. The centuries' old loneliness and sadness had fallen once again heavily on his shoulders overwhelming him, making the well known pain ten times stronger, literally strangling his heart and robbing him of breath.
"Is it bad, your sickness?" Claudia asked with genuine worry and care shadowing her cute, porcelain face.
"Well... it depends on how long the treatment will take. That is why I wanted to see you, dear. I may have to go away for some time, to... get better." He tried to smile.
Claudia nodded and blinked a few times trying to push back eminent tears. "Are you sick like mama was? Will you die? Please, do not die! You are the only friend I have who understands me. Papa is kind enough to pretend he does, but so busy with the Queen's assignments that does not have time to understand fully... not like you. Please, do not die!" She finished, hugging the man's neck. Small sobs started shaking her body.
"Oh dear, no, I will not die. That is why I need to leave now before my illness gets worse. Do you understand?" He embraced her gently, hiding his lying eyes in her hair as he planted a light kiss at the top of her head.
She nodded again and hiccuped struggling to stop sobbing. "So, how long will you be gone?" Her blue eyes met his yellow-green ones and he felt like she ordered him to tell her the truth, but he knew he could not, should not.
"I cannot say for sure, dear. It might take quite some time and I will be far away, your letters will take a very, very long time to reach me... if they ever do." He said quickly, anticipating the question forming on the girl's face. "You cannot possibly imagine how lazy and sloppy the mail man is in that place." He rolled his eyes, shook his head and tsked disapprovingly.
Claudia giggled at her friend's antics and then turned serious again pointing at the silver braid in the reaper's hair. "Alright, I will not write to you, but you have to promise me, you will not ruin the braid again - I will not be there to make it for the fifth time - and you will remember and think of me when you look at it." Her tone was indeed that of ordering now.
The reaper had to smile seeing that serious little face, despite his continuous pain. "I would never forget you either way, but I promise to keep the braid... However, I want you to promise something to me too. You will continue your life normally, listen to your father, be a good girl as always and make friends, good and true friends. Also, if you ever meet any other like me, you will pretend not to see him, you will go about your work without letting him realise you see him. Promise?" He presented her his hand, as she did in their first meeting.
She gave it good thought for a couple of moments and then shook hands as she cried out "Promise!".
"That is my good girl! Now, I really need to go, so gift me your brightest smile that I will treasure and keep close to heart... It might even help me heal faster!" He said and Claudia indeed smiled so beautifully that her friend could not help but squeeze her in his arms and kiss her hair one last time.
After that, they stayed silent for a while, the pain and loneliness their eminent separation would bring settling on them, filling their eyes with tears. But before that happens, the man mustered all the courage he was left and pulled himself out of the girl's arms and up, ready to leave. Claudia's voice stopped him before he vanished in thin air, exactly as he came.
"Silver, just promise me this is not the last time we see each other. I will not forget you, do not forget me!" She pleaded again.
Her 'Silver' could not speak, he did not want to continue lying to her, but also his voice could not come out; it was like a hand was squeezing his throat and vocal chords. He just smiled and hoped that was enough to comfort her.
Once he put some distance between him and the manor, the reaper took his spectacles off, feeling the need to be totally alone for a while, and allowed his tears to flow freely from his eyes, his sadness to take him over. The pain in his chest was great, almost insufferable, but in the following hours - as he aimlessly wondered about - got used to it; in a way he welcomed it, if that meant not returning to the apathetic, detached nature of his kind. When he returned to the reapers' headquarters, his Chief asked him where he was with a strict look behind his glasses.
"Nowhere in particular, I just needed some time alone. Do not worry, I am done with the girl. She will get used to the idea of not seeing me any longer and promised me to pretend she does not 'sees' us, in case... when she meets one of us again." Afterlife Citizen 136649 said back in his usual cold and calm manner and walked away.
His appearance perfect as always, body straight and tall, glasses on and hair in his usual pony tail... the thin braid made by the girl carefully tucked underneath the rest of his hair, still in place but hidden from the public eye. No sign of pain or discomfort in his emotionless facial features.
Afterlife Citizen 136649 reaped the last cinematic records for the day and sighed, as he looked at the purple flamed horizon. The sun was setting and it was spring. Claudia liked this time of the day and loved to be in the open air of the blooming garden - instead of the sheltered gazebo she visited in the winter - watching the various colours painting the sky.
It had been five months since he bid Claudia goodbye, but still missed her cheerful and understanding company so much. His duty and co-workers were not enough at all to fill the void and... well, to be honest, they did not make things easier for him. He was not assigned a 'partner' watching over him, as was the case back when he was first inflicted with Thorns of Death, but he 'accidentally' constantly bumped into one reaper or another who "happened to reap another soul nearby". The Chief had promised leniency, despite his quite dangerous mistake, but the silver haired reaper felt quite trapped, either way. The only thing they achieved was strengthening his craving for freedom.
He landed on the roof of a church, looked at his scythe examiningly before closing eyes and furrowing eyebrows in concentration. A discreet green light emanated from his body, washing over the weapon that slowly changed, it became smaller, flatter, wooden with strange symbols painted on it.
The reaper opened his eyes, looked at the transformed weapon and an extremely wide smile stretched his lips, a small, very satisfied giggle escaped his throat. "It is going so well, I must say! Just a few more times and it will be perfect." He said to himself drawing a little longer the last syllables.
He swung the wooden sotoba, since that was what he changed his scythe into, over his head extremely fast and the scythe returned back in its natural form. With another giggle he jumped in the air and flew towards home... for a little while at least.
A couple of weeks later, he decided the right time had come, finally. A train had gotten derailed outside Bath and there were many victims, which meant many reapers were needed for the records' collection. Afterlife Citizen 136649 was not assigned there, since the agonizing cries of the dying humans could affect him somehow and worsen his condition; instead, he was sent to do the rounds in London.
He was already half through today's list when he paused, took some glances around and with a giggle landed in a dirty, empty alley. He leaned down and let the notebook with today's list on the ground, then stood there seriously, concentrated for a second on his scythe that turned to a wooden sotoba, opened his trench coat, hid it in there, somewhere between the cloth's folds and reached in the other side of his coat to take out a normal wooden cane. Then, he casually removed his spectacles, threw them on the ground and stomped on them, utterly breaking them with so much force, releasing all his anger and frustration towards his kind, pent up for months or even years, centuries. When there was almost nothing left of the glasses, other than a shiny dust with black specks, he sighed with great relief. As a final touch, he released his front bangs from the tight ponytail, covering his eyes from public eye.
"I think this is enough for now... Time to move to the next part of the plan, right?" He said with a smile and a giggle.
Still giggling, he stretched his hand until it touched the wall, he moved closer, started tapping the ground before him with the wooden cane in his hand and with very careful steps headed towards the main road.
It did not take long for Afterlife Citizen's 136649 disappearance to be noticed and the Grim Reaper Dispatch Headquarters was in great tumult. Losing such a valuable asset would be disastrous... they would always be short of hands if he was not there. After spending two weeks investigating the possibility of him coming face to face with one or more quite ancient demons and falling in the line of duty - unfortunately, there was not even a sign of battle in all London, much less of a reaper's brutal death at the hands of demons - Afterlife Citizen 136649 was declared a deserter and the search for him turned to a hunt... constantly meeting major failure.
After endless hours of research in the library, the Chief was the only one to find some leads in understanding how this legendary reaper managed to slip away.
If a reaper decided to retire, after a great amount of centuries in the service, they were obligated to give up glasses and death scythe. Without their glasses they could become visible to humans and live among them, if that was their choice, until their final judgement came. However, it seemed this reaper disposed of his glasses both for reapers to not be able to track him but also for humans to be able to see him. Admittedly, a really good move.
On the other hand, every reaper created a really strong bond with their scythe right from the moment of modifying it to their liking, but the bond keeps growing stronger throughout the centuries and it cannot break unless the reaper decides to officially retire and willingly give up his scythe. Due to no transgression of the standard procedure was ever reported throughout the centuries, everyone forgot a tiny but obviously important loophole; the stronger the bond the easier it would be for the reaper to modify the death scythe... and not just once, but as many times they wanted, and that would result in eventually masking the weapon's aura, making it undetectable to others. Afterlife Citizen 136649 seemed to have managed to use exactly that loophole, therefore, announcing that he did not simply retire... He rebelled and would be more than ready for when they would come for him.
A month later, the Chief surprised everyone by ordering to cease the deserter's hunt. The objections were strong but he knew better. It was not yet time to capture this reaper. "He has work to do." The Chief thought as his eyes read for one more time - in one of the reapers' most secret books - the description of a strange fellow, an undertaker with long, silver hair, a wide grin pasted on his lips at all times and giggling sounds escaping his throat, who would play a key role in the rise and absolute power a certain Phantomhive would gain in a few decades...
Generally speaking, 'Silver' had a strong dislike for money - money made humans come up with huge lies and fool others - but knew he definitely needed to have some in order to live in the human dimension. That was why, he had already managed to collect a small amount of money, enough for him to be able to rent a small apartment, buy a pair of normal glasses helping him in seeing slightly better, a full body mirror and a set of surgical tools. Once he settled in a one room apartment he locked the door and got down to business.
The pain from the Thorns of Death had increased significantly the last few months and the end would come soon, but the deserter reaper was determined to keep his promise to his friend; he would not die and would meet her again. He had not quite figured out the last part yet, but getting rid of the thorns was obviously the one and only step towards the not dying part.
The man giggled at the thought how the Chief - who undoubtedly would froth from anger and unleash everyone and everything in search for him - had actually played a major role in the escape plan, unbeknownst to him. After 'Silver' contracting this deadly disease, the Chief reassigned him to the library for a while and that continued after 'Silver's' attempt to rebel, this time it was his punishment. However, he soon realised this punishment gave him the chance to freely research many things he wanted to know in greater detail about his kind, his illness and... human anatomy.
That was when he found out there were ways to cure Thorns of Death, two to be precise but were both very dangerous. The one was for some other reaper to collect 1000 souls from freshly killed humans, but that meant the reaper would be marked as a sinner and a fallen one, since reapers should not meddle in human affairs and, needless to say, kill humans.
The other way, was for the ailing reaper to be subjected to surgery. It might sound ridiculously easy, but extracting metres of thorny vines wrapped around a heart, extending to the rest of the body was far from easy. On the contrary, it was extremely dangerous, since the reaper could easily die during surgery and the thorns could even attack the ones who would try and remove them. Therefore, the society of Grim Reapers decided to take no action against this illness and leave the sick reapers to eventually die due to a suffocated and pierced heart; but instead, strictly directed everyone to remain as emotionless and uninvolved as possible when facing humans dying, never hesitate in front of resisting souls and avoid feeling any kind of sympathy for them. It worked since cases of reapers contracting thorns of death became extremely rare.
'Silver' had conducted a thorough research on methods of surgery and had finally decided he was capable enough to perform one on his own. It sounds crazy of course, but he was confident enough. Besides, he was the only one who could feel the thorns' movements and knew exactly the parts of his body they had reached; he had grown so used to the pain, he was certain he would endure the surgery, but even if he did not... he would be the only one to die, so he had nothing to lose... although he would definitely prefer to survive and return to little Claudia at some point.
With these thoughts, he stood stark naked in front of the full body mirror, hair in a ponytail, a scalpel in hand and glasses on. He squinted quite a lot trying to see his body in the mirror as much as possible, but the glasses obviously did not help enough, despite buying the ones for the highest degree of near-sightedness. All he could see was a blurry mass that looked like a body, no way he could discern the ripples and contours of his lean muscles, let alone any other useful detail like the skin being slightly red where the thorns were.
"Oh, damn you to Hell!" He cried out, threw away the glasses and then removed his one glove. "Alright, just by feel will do the trick!" He said to himself and began.
It would be easier to remove as much of the thorns' length as possible intact, at least until reaching the heart that was their centre; therefore, he should start from the edges. He knelt on his left knee and with his hand started feeling around the right ankle until finding the right spot. He went on for a while, tracing how this vine was going up his calf, wrapped itself twice around his thigh and continued upwards, passing from one buttock, his waist, go a little down close to his loins and then up his ripped stomach and chest until it reached the tangled mass around his heart.
With a deep breath, he leaned back towards his ankle and started cutting and uprooting the long thorny vine. The blood flowed freely all over the place, drenching his hands and skin entirely but he went on, ignoring the excruciating pain by clenching his teeth, holding his breath and tightening his muscles, forcing them to keep him up even though they screamed for him to rest or even faint... but he would not give up yet!
Once reaching close to the heart, he attempted of pulling out the vine but what he accomplished was for the thorns to dig deeper in his heart, so he had to leave it and move on to the one circling his left arm, reaching the middle of his forearm. Next was the one running through the upper broad chest, around his throat and crossing his face, stopping right before it stabbed its edge in his brain rendering him incapable of some actions, depending on which centre it would affect.
"Lucky! I got it right in time." He said and tried to giggle but his exhaustion was too much already.
Two hours later, he sat heavily on the floor, his entire body drenched in sweat and blood flowing abundant from his gaping wounds on legs, arms, face and body, all of them ended up in a huge one on his chest. The deadly vines were protruding from it but were still entangled to his rib cage; he knew he had to go deeper, open the cage right where the heart was and take them out. He eyed the tool lying among the rest surgical ones, but he needed some more time.
"I have a feeling, a really strong one, that the final part will hurt more... so, I guess I will leave it for the end. Now, let us see if I am a good seamstress." He said when he finally managed to steady his breath and his aching heart.
He stretched his shaky hands, picked up needle and thread and carefully and slowly, since once again he had to rely solely on feeling himself with his fingers, managed to stitch all of his wounds, except the one on the chest. He proceeded to the final part, certain that by now he must look just like Frankenstein's monster. He had actually read that book when it got published and had found the idea of reviving the dead and turning them into undead creatures... simply wonderful!
The people renting apartments around his were listening strange muffled cries and grunts for many hours now. They were very curious and worried about what was the matter with the new tenant, but were also very afraid. Those who had seen him, even for a moment, were saying he was a very handsome man but had a creepy quality about him. However, the new barrage of cries of absolute pain and sounds like bones were crushed or something like that, made the blood run cold in their veins. Their wild imagination picturing gruesome scenes of violent crimes or monstrous transformations, like the ones they regularly read in Penny Dreadful, did not help the situation, until the cries reached the ears of the building manager, a widow living in the ground floor. She quickly climbed up the stairs and started banging on the door.
"Mr. Silver, what on earth is going on inside there? Is everything alright?" The only answer she received were more screams and strange sounds. "Mr. Silver, this is a respectable establishment and your behaviour is not acceptable, I demand that you open the door this instant or else you will leave me no choice other than calling the police. Mr. Silver? I am using the key and entering the room right now!" She announced when every sound suddenly stopped.
The woman put the key in the hole, exchanged glances with a couple of her male tenants, who were ready to assist and defend her if there was a need, and entered the room. They took a few steps further inside and froze on their tracks, totally horrified with what they saw.
A totally naked pale man lied on the floor with a huge gaping wound on his chest, blood mixed with sweat covered his body from head to toes, his long locks were sticking on his face and body, turning red from silver and tears flowing from his eyes while his lips stretched in an extremely wide grin. There was blood everywhere around him, a bloody strange tool in his right hand, some other tools further away and a weird mass of cut into pieces thorny, black vines by his side shrivelling and turning to dust.
The man looked absolutely dead, and of course, no one could know what they were seeing was an immortal grim reaper, who had just opened up his own chest and kept digging inside his heart with naked hands for quite some time, in order to remove every last one of the Thorns of Death threatening his life for more than twenty years. So it is absolutely understandable that the poor widow had the scare of her life and fainted, when a hoarse voice came from the presumed dead body.
"Finally! I took every last one of them out! I feel so light already! Claudia, dear, we will meet again, as I promised!" The naked man said and giggled but the giggle turned to a cough and a little blood trickled from his mouth. "Oh, I guess I will have to wait for a while, I need some rest." That was the last thing he said, before darkness rushed to pull him in a deep embrace filled with images and emotions of old but never forgotten.
End of part 1! Next chapter continues with Undertaker, so no worries, there is still a lot to learn about him!
Thorns of Death: For those who don't know, this concept was introduced in the second Kuromyu "The Most Beautiful Death in the World". An entirely original story (I believe Toboso contributed, but not sure) where if souls about to be reaped were resisting, could inflict this sickness on the reaper doing the collection. You can read more in the Kuroshitsuji wiki, if you like . However, even though in the story it is not made clear whether this illness is indeed connected to the emotional and psychological state of the reaper having it, the way it was shown... led me to such an interpretation. Alan, one of the original characters and ailing reaper, was always feeling the thorns getting stronger whenever he overexerted himself, both physically and psychologically, so... Also, yes, I know that Undertaker's scars are most probably caused by experiments he might have done on his own body, during his research for his bizarre dolls, but it kind of makes sense for him to have gone through the whole, quite painful, ordeal of removing these thorns from his own body, right?
Claudia (Cloudia in the manga, but... no comment): What do you think, people, about her introduction as a child? Does she, perhaps, remind you of someone certain we already know 😉? Truth is, I did picture her similar to how young Ciel is shown in the manga, only a bit more sassy. 😁 Writting her as a child was quite an amusing experience for me, I admit. Oh, I almost forgot! Most of the dates I follow in this chapter and the next are directly from the manga's timeline (once again, thank you Kuroshitsuji wiki 🙏), but her mother's date of birth and death are totally my idea, and the death specifically chosen like this, exactly to be soon overshadowed by Victoria's ascension to the throne. Please, let me know what you think about everything so far!
Thank you all so much! Till next time! Bye! 😘