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].

25. The Opposite Side of Boredom Part 3

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Opposite Side of Boredom. Part Three

The sweetness of victory blanketed him throughout the day. Ciel knew it was senseless to be so pleased — guessing Tanaka's role was only one step up the road lying ahead, but Sebastian's sour expression served as an inexhaustible source of joy. Ciel kept stealing smug looks at him, his heart soaring every time Sebastian purposefully ignored him, pretending he was busy with something else.

By evening, the heady sensation of triumph began to fade little by little, and Ciel was finally able to focus on the remaining players.

"You really ought to remodel the dining room," Lau was saying. He was eagerly consuming his meal, talking between the bites, and tiny pieces of food kept escaping his mouth. The sight of it was enough to ruin Ciel's appetite. "It looks too light. In the morning, you need to see some darker colours around. Give yourself some time to wake up properly."

"I agree!" the Undertaker chimed in. He was still wearing a ridiculous number of medals — if anything, there were more of them decorating his cloak now. "That's why I never turn on the lights in my little workplace. I don't need to see much, and my roommates — well, they are dead, aren't they?"

"This conversation is boring me," Sebastian said. He was curled in a chair opposite Ciel's with a book on his plate. It looked wildly inappropriate, and if they had any other guests, Ciel would be mortified enough to order Sebastian to kill everyone present. No one of esteem who witnessed such an embarrassing display from one of his servants could be allowed to live. Since his current guests were as far from respectable as they could be, though, he couldn't care less. Randall was an exception, but he was so thoroughly under Ciel's thumb that pretending for his sake alone wasn't worth an effort.

"Excuse me, we did not ask you to listen," Lau protested. He stopped eating, sending an exaggeratedly scandalised look Sebastian's way. "Mind your own business, demon. Or actually don't. You should take my advice, the living room does look dark. Believe me, if you were to incorporate the changes I suggest—"

"No one is interested in your suggestions," Sebastian interrupted him. He didn't look up from his book, but he waved his hand in Ciel's direction. "We are pleased with how the manor looks and we are not looking for architects or interior designers. I also don't recall seeing a role such as this in the list we distributed, so what makes you ramble about decorations this incessantly?"

A giggle slipped through Ciel's mouth before he could stop himself. He instantly cleared his throat, ignoring Sebastian's amused look, and tried to appear serious.

"You should laugh more often," Ran Mao said suddenly. Hearing anything from her was startling, so everyone's gazes instantly snapped to her. She ignored them all, staring at Ciel instead. "This will make your life shorter."

Ciel blinked, unsure how to react. Was this supposed to be a joke? A threat? Just a stupid remark? Whatever it was, it had to be meaningful — this was the first tip Ran Mao was offering, but tried as he might, he couldn't come to a definite conclusion.

To his dismay, Sebastian snapped the book shut. His eyes flashed in triumph, and Ciel's heart sank somewhere he could no longer sense it.

Oh, no. It looked like the time was up — Sebastian understood more than he did, and he was ready to make a gamble of his own.

"Let's go upstairs," Sebastian told him. Ciel bristled at the command. He narrowed his eyes, waiting to be addressed properly, and after a short pause and an amused snort, Sebastian relented.

"Please come upstairs with me, my lord," he repeated, this time sounding sickeningly sweet. "There is a score I believe we should settle."

"Fine," Ciel said. He stood up, slowly moving his chair as his mind raced in search of a desperate answer. "Should we bring Bard with us?"

"Yes, please do," Sebastian flashed him a sharp grin, and the worry squeezed his lungs tighter.

Sebastian figured out who Ran Mao was. How? What about her short sentence gave it away?

Thoughts kept rushing through his head as Ciel sent for Bard and began to climb upstairs. Sebastian was radiating smugness, and it was such a depressing change from half an hour ago that Ciel had to grit his teeth to keep himself from cursing. Couldn't he enjoy his victory for at least one whole day? Did Sebastian have to steal it from him, too?

You should laugh more often. This will make your life shorter.

What did it mean? And how could laughing make his life shorter? Was it even supposed to mean anything or was it gibberish designed to confuse him?

His dread deepened when they took their seats in his office, and it threatened to intensify to an uncontrollable degree when Sebastian smiled a long, deeply satisfied smile.

"I am ready to identify two players," he drawled.

For a moment, Ciel thought he'd misheard. Then a crushing weight dropped on top of him, shattering the last bits of his happiness. The world tilted, and he had to struggle to keep himself sitting straight.

Two players. Sebastian was ready to identify two players at once. If he did it correctly, he would be in the lead — worse, Ciel's success would pale entirely in comparison.

It couldn't be happening. There was no way Sebastian understood humans and their cues better.

Anxiety almost overwhelmed him. Some of it must have made it to his face because Sebastian's smirk sharpened.

"To honour our agreement, Ran Mao will be my first victory," he said, each syllable ringing with glee. "She is the wrong suspect. Her role is to pretend to want to kill you while doing nothing of substance to achieve this goal."

Ciel's stare immediately shifted to Bard in a silent demand. Bard looked almost apologetic when he nodded, and somehow, it felt even worse than Ciel expected.

"Sebastian is correct," Bard uttered. He didn't add anything else, and he didn't have to — Sebastian shone with his triumph, and Ciel would have liked nothing better than to hit him. Everything inside him shrank in dejection, and to his frustration, he found himself at a complete loss for words.

Ran Mao was the wrong suspect. How so? She didn't even do anything! She only said that stupid line, and it could have meant so many things that pinpointing just one was an impossibility.

And yet, Sebastian had done it. Which meant that Ciel was missing something big. And now the second blow was coming, and he had to brace himself for it.

"Who is your second player?" he asked coldly. Sebastian let out a fake sigh, like he was annoyed with Ciel's stupidity.

"Undertaker," he replied. Once again, something unpleasant tugged at Ciel's insides, dragging him further into an abyss of failure. "He is a fool."

Ciel didn't have to look at Bard this time to understand what was going to happen. Somehow, he sensed it with every fibre of his being — Sebastian was right. He'd made two correct identifications in one day.

Unfortunately, Bard decided to speak anyway.

"Yeah," he muttered. Then he had the audacity to chuckle. "Congratulations, sir."

Ciel's incredulous gaze snapped to him. Bard was grinning now, no trace of his previous regret in sight. And he was looking at Sebastian, so "sir" was meant for him.

Just what was happening? There was no role in that list that would make Bard fawn over Sebastian!

His blood began to boil, and the only thing stopping him from exploding was a bewildered look on Sebastian's face.

At least he wasn't the only one with no clue this time. Sebastian's smartness clearly didn't stretch to Bard and whatever role he was playing.

"Leave now," Ciel snapped at him. Bard obeyed without adding anything else, and a resentful silence filled the room.

He had to find something to say. Sebastian was watching him attentively, his delight woven into every imperceptible shift of his features. He was basking in his victory, as he should — because he had truly won today's round. Ciel's identification of Tanaka was nothing compared to this.

Anger and worry tied themselves into one heavy knot, and breathing around it was increasingly difficult. Still, he had to try. Winning one battle didn't mean winning the war. Ciel was almost certain that Randall was a spy: he wasn't creative or intelligent enough to pick a less obvious role and snoop around in between. Within a day, Ciel would be able to make the final decision, and this would put him on the same level as Sebastian.

Unless Sebastian identified someone else as well during this time. And unless the number of points he scored today would be higher than Ciel's even if he guessed Randall's role correctly. A fool and a hindrance probably had the same value, but who was more important, a spy or a fake suspect? Which of these roles would produce a higher score?

More sickening panic flooded him, so Ciel clenched his fist under the table, digging his nails into his skin.

The game was far from over. He couldn't let himself succumb to these treacherous fears.

"Let's start with Ran Mao," he said coolly. He cocked his head to the side, like he was merely curious and not worried in the slightest. "How did you identify her?"

"She issued a fake threat," Sebastian replied immediately. Bastard, he'd been clearly waiting to blurt this out. "She expressed the desire to see your life cut short, which put her on the list of players with malicious intent. However, in reality, laughter won't shorten your life. This means that her words did not have true ill will, and only a fake suspect would say them."

Ciel frowned, thinking it over. He supposed it made sense when put like this — in retrospect, it was obvious, but to come to a conclusion based on this one phrase alone? Something was off here. Sebastian could be rash when he was eager to win, but would he really be this careless unless he knew for certain that whatever came out of Ran Mao's mouth would be a clue? They'd had that revolting conversation earlier, where Sebastian pretended to be interested in her. They must have made some sort of a deal Ciel was not aware of.

Pity that this fact didn't change anything. Sebastian was too smart to cheat outright — there was nothing about this situation Ciel could use against him.

"Fine," he said curtly. His injured pride screeched in protest, but he pushed it down. "And the Undertaker?"

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up as if the answer was obvious enough for everyone to spot it.

"He wore a disturbing collection of medals that don't fit together. The ribbons were mismatched. Some of the orders could never be bestowed on one person because that would require simultaneous participation in the battles happening in different parts of the world. Only a fool would put them all up at once. And then the quote."

"The quote?" Ciel repeated dumbly. His mind felt half-broken already. He'd been looking for all kinds of clues, but it never occurred to him that he had to know the type and the colouring of different war medals. "The one about heathens?"

Sebastian let out a short laugh, and anger gripped Ciel's throat with renewed force.

"It's funny that you remembered this word from it since it was one of the few wrong ones, and thus one of the biggest clues," Sebastian noted. He still sounded amused, drinking in every drop of Ciel's frustrated obliviousness. Ciel scowled, and Sebastian assumed a solemn expression. "Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back," he announced in a deep, ridiculous voice. "Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet."

All right, his patience had its limits and this was it.

"Is that supposed to make sense to me?" Ciel growled. Irritation flared to life brighter than ever, heating his blood to a dangerous degree. "It sounds like the same nonsensical rubbish. And what is this part about a lover — Undertaker didn't mention it!"

Sebastian snickered at him, his face so joyful that it was just asking to be smashed with an inkpot.

"I'm afraid that despite all my effort, your education remains lacking," he surmised. "It's a quote from Plato, one of his most famous ones. To think that you did not recognise it in Undertaker's creative rendition."

"You did not teach me any quotes of his! How was I supposed to recognise something I have never learned?"

"Any diligent student would have taken time to acquaint themselves with additional material."

Another growl bubbled in his throat, and Ciel barely swallowed it. At this point, it was evident that Sebastian was making fun of him — there was no need to continue subjecting himself to this humiliation.

The situation with Ran Mao was murky and suspicious, but Undertaker had approached his role from an angle Ciel didn't expect. It was subtle and it required the knowledge he simply lacked. Even if he could go back in time, he would not be able to change anything — he would fail to differentiate between the medals to understand that only a fool would wear so many in such combinations, and he would remain ignorant to that Plato's quote. The truth was, Sebastian was better equipped to catch clues like these. He lived for thousands of years — hell, he was probably there when Pluto said that overly romantic nonsense, snickering somewhere in the background!

On the other hand…

His mounting fury stilled. Ciel narrowed his eyes, going through everything he'd just learned again and coming to a new refreshing perspective.

Sebastian might have won for now, but Ciel could surely sour his victory.

"It seems to me that you are approaching this game as a lowly human, not as a superior demon," he said. As he anticipated, Sebastian stiffened, wariness slowly replacing his cloudless expression of glee. "Wasn't your goal to prove that a soul is everything and that it can disclose things to you that other humans would be unable to notice? What you did instead was strike a boring deal with a human and rely on your basic knowledge of our art and culture. I could have done exactly the same. The only thing that separates me from you is your willingness to cheat and the fact that you lived longer than me and had a chance to absorb more knowledge."

Sebastian didn't like it. He straightened from his lazy position, his gaze shuttering off, cooling to a dimmer redness.

"You are taking things out of context," he retorted haughtily. "I never specified that I would be using only one method. My goal was to win, which is what I'm succeeding at."

His voice was laced with confidence, interwoven with some mockery, and if Ciel didn't know him so well, he might have been tempted to believe him. To doubt his own perception of reality.

Fortunately, this demon was as familiar to him as his own mind, and he remembered everything he said to him in stark detail.

"'In this game, you will try to rely on logic and psychology,'" he repeated, softening his syllables to resemble the way Sebastian spoke. "'But I will rely on these people's essence. There is no comparison between which method is going to be more effective.' Did you or did you not say it?"

He took a moment to soak in the genuine annoyance that flashed across Sebastian's face. No answer followed, just like Ciel expected. His pride stopped sizzling; the injury smoothened under the healing impact of self-satisfaction.

"From what I see," he added dangerously, "you relied on logic and psychology. So are you a human, after all? Or are you so wistful in your hidden need to become one that you've been trying to elevate demons just out of spite? Is this what it's all been about?"

He knew it wasn't true, but triggering a reaction was more important than being accurate. He would say anything to make his temporary loss less bitter.

Distaste twisted Sebastian's entire body, his startled revulsion at the idea so palpable that Ciel almost laughed.

"I would not wish to be a human," Sebastian denied. He sounded shockingly insulted, and the need to laugh grew stronger.

"I think you do. You are just denying this part of yourself out of your prejudice. Admit to it and perhaps you won't need to come up with games such as this to prove something to yourself."

Sebastian's mouth dropped open. His incredulous indignation was too hilarious for Ciel to take while staying silent, so he pretended to sneeze, even though the corners of his lips kept twitching treacherously.

"Enough about your questionable motivations," he said finally, when Sebastian still failed to find words to convey the depth of his offence. "Any observations about the others? Since we are both relying on good old logic and psychology."

"I think I've filled my quota of guesses for today," Sebastian uttered darkly. He watched Ciel with narrowed eyes, as if still unable to believe his audacity. "Perhaps it's your turn to impress me."

"I will after I win this game," Ciel shrugged, pushing back against his chair in fake boredom. "At the moment, I have a good idea about Randall, but the roles of everyone else generate doubts. And for the love of all that is holy, I cannot fathom why Lau insists on discussing decorations. What roles do we even have left?"

Naturally, he remembered everything, but he needed to complete his plan to stir Sebastian away from the thoughts of his victory — at least for the duration of this conversation. And, if he was lucky, to push him in the wrong direction.

As he thought, Sebastian jumped on the chance to be useful.

"There is a spy," he uttered readily, "another fake suspect, an ally, the killer's helper, and the killer themselves."

"Indeed. Lau is talking about furniture, Mey-Rin is constantly smirking, Bard is running after you for some reason, Randall is grumbling, and Finnie seems oblivious to the game. Anything else noteworthy?"

Sebastian shook his head.

"You've covered next to everything. Perhaps our guests have merely approached their roles from an overly creative perspective."

"There is creative and then there is completely inappropriate. Why does Finnie appear to know nothing? What role even hints at having to pretend to be oblivious to what's happening?"

Ciel hoped Sebastian would fall into this subtle trap, and when he saw a flash of sudden awareness on his face, his heart jerked in suspense.

"There is one role that his behaviour could suit," Sebastian said slowly. His gaze turned calculating, and Ciel held his breath, his excitement colliding with a quieter feeling of disbelief. Everything couldn't be so simple, could it? "A role that requires channelling others' attention towards something that it is not."

Ciel blinked rapidly, hoping he looked appropriately stupid. It was a gamble to expect that Sebastian would fall for it, but considering his latest conclusion that humans were insignificant worms and that Ciel was only barely above that, this could work.

"I don't understand," he said. Sebastian smirked at him, and this smirk sealed the deal.

He'd bought it. This idiot thought he had a clue about Finnie's role and that Ciel was in the dark — and all it took was a little nudge.

It was obvious that Sebastian decided Finnie was a spy. He would be checking this theory now, too attached to it to let go on time. He didn't see the whole picture: Randall was a far likelier candidate for a spy, and Finnie was one terrible actor. Ciel had no idea what role he could be playing, but he sure wasn't skilled enough to divert attention from himself like this. It would be a pain to figure out what was going on, but it didn't matter as long as Sebastian remained on the wrong track.

He would be too busy forcing Finnie into the spy box he created in his mind. And by focusing on this scenario, he would miss the actual spy, the one who was breaking into different rooms and reading fake confidential documents.

Ciel widened his eyes, trying to appear disturbed, and Sebastian's smirk turned more gleeful.

How wonderful it would feel to erase it with his eventual victory.

Seeing what a gullible fool Sebastian was, his today's progress wouldn't help him. Maybe Ciel lost, but he was finishing the day on a high note — that was a satisfying consolation prize. It would have to sustain him for the remaining part of this week.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSC

The following two days passed without any new revelations. During the day, everyone followed the same pattern of behaviour they had already demonstrated. At night, Ciel took his secret spot in the corridor, listening to the sleeping house. Everyone stayed quiet except for Randall, who continued to sneak into the room with documents. He stayed there precisely for one hour before leaving, his face growing progressively more shocked at whatever fake information he had uncovered. Ciel had to applaud himself for his effort.

Sebastian was beginning to get anxious. He refused to share most of his observations now, but it was evident that he didn't have any certainty as to what roles belonged to what players. If Ciel had any doubts about this, they dissipated after he caught Sebastian wandering into different unoccupied rooms, examining their contents with shrewd eyes. He was snooping — at this point, he must have grown suspicious of Ciel's handshaking ritual and he noticed how Randall's fingers shone with green every morning. It was possible that he connected some dots, and now he probably hoped to either dismantle Ciel's cobweb of clues or steal them for himself.

Luckily, Ciel's plan accounted for this inevitable development.

He waited until Sebastian finished his third tour through the rooms, meeting him at the door with an innocent smile.

"Sebastian," he drawled, offering his hand demurely. "Would you care for a handshake?"

Sebastian paused, studying him suspiciously. His eyes darted to Ciel's hand, as if pondering whether he could have soaked it in poison and if it was some cunning plan of attack. This level of mistrust was absurd, considering that this idiot was a demon. He must have finally remembered it, too, because his face smoothened, intrigue taking the central stage on it.

"With pleasure," he replied. His fingers wrapped around Ciel's palm, squeezing it, then refusing to let go when Ciel attempted to pull away.

Again with his oddities. Ciel stopped, staring in silent expectation. When Sebastian didn't react, he pursed his lips, trying to ignore the way his skin was beginning to buzz from such extended contact.

"You can let go now," he said pointedly. Sebastian didn't move, his expression a little too curious and focused for Ciel's comfort. His entire arm started to burn now, so he snapped, "Your hands are dirty."

It worked as he'd thought — Sebastian's grip loosened, his focus shifting to his glove. A startled look crossed his features when he saw a variety of colours staining it. Green, yellow, blue, red — it looked like a rainbow now.

A spark of realisation and excitement in his eyes quickly turned into startled frustration. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to, Ciel already had a good idea regarding what must have crossed his mind.

Sebastian figured out that he marked different objects with coloured ink, and that shaking everyone's hands was a way to determine which things they interacted with. But then he also realised that he had no idea which colour signified what, meaning that his attempt at the investigation failed. Whatever clues Ciel received belonged to him and him alone.

An annoyed sigh slipped from Sebastian's lips.

"The inks you've been working on," he concluded darkly. Ciel shrugged.

"Who knew they would be so helpful? Initially, I just wanted Funtom to sell more products and to possibly enter a new market. I've been thinking of branching out to the publishing industry."

A snort followed his answer.

"Does your greed have no boundaries?" Sebastian asked. He sounded almost awed, and Ciel gave him a brief smirk.

"I'll tell you if I find them."

For a moment, a familiar warmth shimmered between them, but then Ciel remembered why they were here in the first place, and the door that was beginning to open slammed shut again.

"Why does my system of gathering clues interest you at all?" he asked coldly. Sebastian frowned, as if dissatisfied with the sudden change. "Have you finally realised you can't achieve victory through your soul-reading means, so you decided to follow me around and steal what I've been preparing for myself?"

"No," Sebastian replied. He continued to frown, although his voice sounded smooth. "I've been only curious to see what keeps drawing you to these rooms and why you insist on touching every one of our guests each morning."

"How would you know that I'm visiting these rooms?"

Sebastian stared like he'd said something shockingly foolish.

"I always know what you are doing. It is a part of my job."

"I don't remember hiring you as my stalker. And for the duration of this game, you have next to no obligations to me. You are also forbidden from spying through your demonic powers."

"I'm forbidden from spying on our guests, not from spying on you."

Unbelievable. Bold — but true. Ciel snorted, finally averting his gaze and contemplating the best path for retreat. Falling into senseless arguments with Sebastian was one of the old habits he was determined to break, and staying here for longer would not help him.

"What is that stack of gibberish about asylums and experimentation?" Sebastian suddenly asked. It sounded rushed, like he was looking for something to say, and Ciel was forced to look at him again, irritation hissing closer to the surface.

"That's my business," he said curtly. "You were not invited to read those reports."

"Reports?" Sebastian arched his eyebrows. "Is that what you are calling them? Unless I've missed at least a year of your life, I don't recall you sponsoring experiments on the mentally ill. And what's that about investigating a "Hundred Murders" case? I would have certainly noticed if you were running about looking into the death of a hundred people at once. And the sea monsters? When you said you're interested in branching out to publishing, did you mean you're envisioning yourself as a new star of fiction? Because if so, Young Master, then I regret to tell you that your writing talents leave much to be desired."

"Phh, as if I need your approval," Ciel turned away again, hiding a smirk that was trembling at the edges of his lips. "Mind your own business."

It was hysterical — so Sebastian believed the documents were his stories, and not the fake reports he'd prepared in advance to mislead the spy in their ranks? How that demon's brain worked was a mystery. And he thought humans were simple-minded!

Sebastian was not supposed to make him laugh again, but amusement warmed the coldest parts inside him, and when he turned the corner, Ciel allowed himself to smile.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSC

This was the last night he'd watch Randall, Ciel decided. He had all the information he needed — Randall wasn't doing anything apart from reading the reports, so either he was ignoring his role or a spy was what he was indeed. It was hard to believe that he'd choose such an obvious role for himself, but Randall was a rather simple man and Ciel supposed he shouldn't have expected any better.

At two in the morning, Randall crept out of his room. He disappeared in the office with the documents, but to Ciel's bewilderment, he emerged from there only five minutes later, pale and livid. Throwing quick glances around, he began to walk downstairs.

Ciel waited a bit before moving after him, hesitating when he reached the staircase.

It was an unspoken rule, but at night, he and Sebastian were splitting the manor into two parts. The second floor and everything above was his territory; Sebastian was haunting the first floor and the outside spaces. He was observing the servants' behaviour while Ciel was dealing with the remaining guests — they didn't discuss it, but they were both sticking to this rule. Following Randall meant breaking it.

Uncertainty rooted him to his spot, but a moment later, decidedness washed it away.

Even the written rules were meant to be broken. The unspoken ones meant nothing at all, especially when they came from a demon who was a traitor at his core.

Carefully, Ciel crept downstairs, making sure to keep Randall in his range of vision. Randall was moving towards the kitchens — what, he was hungry? So hungry that he decided to forego reading the terribly important documents in favour of…

Oh. The kitchens. Could it be?..

A giggle tickled his throat, and Ciel had to cover his mouth with his hand to keep himself silent.

He'd tried to write many reports, and the more he did, the less thought he put into them. One of the pages described a made-up black magic ritual involving human sacrifice: it was supposed to increase one's power of deductions, with the parts of the sacrifice being stored in rune-protected containers that were always kept cold. It was pathetically absurd, and back then, he'd wondered if he was overdoing it to the point where Randall would figure out he was being played. Surely it was too grotesque and ridiculous to believe, no matter how much Randall despised him and what he suspected might have stood behind his successful investigations?

But what else was he expecting to find in the kitchen? Unless he indeed simply wanted to have a meal.

Randall chose to check a smaller storeroom first, disappearing behind its door. Ciel wanted to take a step in the same direction when a hand suddenly emerged from the darkness. It wrapped around his waist and dragged him deeper into the room, away from the dim trail of light.

It took his body less than a quarter of a second to recognise Sebastian, so it relaxed before it had a chance to finish tensing. Ciel threw his head back, pressing it against Sebastian's middle and staring up at him.

"Have you forgotten your place, demon?" he asked. Sebastian didn't seem bothered by the slightest — he didn't let go either, his arm still anchoring Ciel to his body.

"It appears to me that we have the opposite situation here," he pointed out, his tone overly casual for someone who was crossing all boundaries of respect with outrageous frequency lately. "Your place is above. This floor is my hunting ground, and if your prey escaped to me, then I shall be the one to catch it."

"As if!" Ciel attempted to untangle Sebastian's fingers from his stomach to free himself, but the hold was too tight. He paused his effort when blood suddenly rushed to his head, bewilderingly and unexpectedly.

Sebastian was too close, his grip unreasonably tight, like they were standing in some narrow space and had to meld into one to avoid being detected. It was probably supposed to feel uncomfortable, but… it barely explained the magnitude of reactions that were now bursting to life inside him. They made him light-headed. Weak. Half-drunk, like he couldn't understand or control himself.

By all logic, he was supposed to become annoyed, not to get this flushed and confused and ticklish and whatever else it was he was currently feeling. What was wrong with him?

Frustration at himself quickly shot through all other conflicting emotions. Ciel dug his nails into Sebastian's hand vengefully, revelling in the surprised hiss, but the next moment, they both froze. More light appeared somewhere in the storage area, and then Bard's voice broke the silence.

"What are you doing here?"

No answer followed at first — Randall was probably taken aback at being exposed. When he spoke, his voice sounded atypically shrilly:

"Open that refrigerator immediately."

"Refrigerator?" Bard repeated. His confusion mirrored Ciel's. "What on earth are you looking for in there? If you want to have a bite—"

"I'm not saying this as a player in your master's sick game! I'm ordering this as a commissioner for Scotland Yard!"

Sebastian suddenly drew in a sharp breath. His grip loosened, and Ciel used the opportunity to break free. When he turned to face him, he blinked, surprise temporarily drowning out the rest of the world.

Sebastian's eyes were comically wide, his mouth hanging open, an expression of genuine shock on his face. Shock — and guilt? What the hell was going on?

Ciel frowned, suspicion warring with concern inside him. He was about to ask when a crash came from the storeroom, instantly followed by Bard's and Randall's startled yells.

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head like he couldn't believe something. This picture of self-deprecating embarrassment was fascinating enough to deserve Ciel's full attention, but the need to discover what was happening in the storeroom burned stronger. Throwing the last look at Sebastian, he hastened forward, feeling intuitively that he was about to be followed.

When he stormed inside the room, he stopped, quickly assessing the situation. Bard and Randall looked pale and numb with horror. They were staring at something that must have fallen out of the refrigerator and was now lying on the floor — something round, hairy, and grotesque. Something…

Ciel gasped when the pieces suddenly clicked together.

A head. There was a human frozen head lying on his floor.

He must have made some sound because Bard whirled around, jerking wildly at the sight of him.

"Young Master, don't look!" he shouted. Ciel blinked at him, his mind still reeling and trying to regroup.

"What kind of an imbecile are you?" Randall yelled. He was turning purple again, his finger poking in the direction of the head jerkily. "He's the one who put it there! Doing such perversions must be how he spends his weekends!"

"What are you talking about, you stupid man, we don't keep heads in the fridges here! Young Master is not—"

"Then what do you call this?!"

The air crackled slightly, and when Ciel glanced to the side, he saw Sebastian stopping nearby. He didn't seem surprised at seeing the head. From all the clues, it was clear that he was the one who'd put it in the refrigerator, but what possessed him to do such a thing went far beyond Ciel's comprehension capacities.

Come to think of it, the head looked a little familiar.

Disgust and stupor attempted to hold him still, but his curiosity insisted that he approach and take a closer look.

Hesitating for a short moment, Ciel took a couple of steps to the head, squinting and trying to understand what exactly he was seeing. How…

Oh. The head without the body. And the body without the head.

This was Baron Annesley — or rather what was left of him. Ciel had come to terms with the fact that Sebastian had decided to kill this man randomly. He let it go. But this? This? Was this supposed to be a joke or was Sebastian truly trying to set him up for some reason?

His fingers rolled into fists by themselves. Ciel glared at Sebastian, putting every ounce of his helpless fury and a promise of retribution into it, and Sebastian had the nerve to look away. If this was his plan, why wasn't he gloating?

But then… no, Sebastian had seemed genuinely stunned. It was like he had forgotten all about this head, and now that it rolled out, he was embarrassed and unsure of what to do.

He didn't look like someone revelling in his victory, he looked like a person who knew he made a mistake. Interesting. They would have to talk about it once this horror circus was over. Meanwhile, Ciel had to deal with the disaster by himself — there was no point in throwing Sebastian to the wolves because in Randall's eyes, they both came as a set. Sebastian was his servant and Ciel was responsible for his actions.

The mess was his to handle.

Next time, he would have to ask for a better demon. Sebastian created far more problems than he solved.

"We are going to pretend that the last ten minutes never happened," Ciel said brusquely. "Lord Randall, go back to your room. Your nightly adventures are over. Frankly, your approach to your role has been uninspiring, so I've had enough. You can return home tomorrow morning."

The protest came from the expected side.

"Aren't you being hasty?" Sebastian asked. He dared not only to speak but to sound petulant, too, like Ciel was stealing some grand victory from him. "The game continues until all players are identified or until the killer makes their move. It is too early for Lord Randall to—"

"Not everyone here is as simple-minded as you," Ciel snapped. Sebastian's eyes grew wider under the onslaught of his viciousness. "Did you honestly think that Finnie is a spy? Please. How stupid can you be? It's Randall, it was obvious from the beginning. A little too obvious, I'd say, so I wanted to wait a little to make sure. But I'm through with it now. Bard?" Ciel turned to him, his stomach tightening anxiously despite the certainty surging through his veins.

He knew Randall was a spy — he had to be. But still… still…

"Yeah," Bard croaked. He appeared flabbergasted for some reason, looking at Ciel as if he'd lost his mind. "Yeah, that's what he is."

Exhilaration instantly filled Ciel's head to the brim. Even the current problem with Annesley suddenly seemed irrelevant and insignificant — he'd scored his second victory against Sebastian. They were on equal terms now. Yes, the number of points remained a secret, so technically, Sebastian could still be in the lead, but this was a concern for another day. Right now, he wanted to take his fill of relief and enjoyment that flooded him so completely.

His satisfaction deepened when Sebastian's incredulous gaze narrowed and flared with outraged disbelief. He was probably connecting the dots this very moment, realising that Ciel had played him for a fool by bringing Finnie to his attention and letting Randall slip away from his grasp.

"Tricked by a human. Again," Ciel murmured very quietly. He barely moved his lips, knowing that only Sebastian would hear him. "Not very demonic of you. Demon."

The light flickered as Sebastian's shadow moved to swallow it, and a shot of unexplainable heady emotion hit Ciel right into his brain. He shuddered as delight slithered through him, growing even more intoxicating under the impact of Sebastian's growing ire.

Unfortunately, they weren't alone right now. And the head had to be dealt with.

Randall must have finally remembered himself again because he let out a harsh bark of laughter.

"Unbelievable!" he growled, taking an aggressive step forward. "You may think yourself untouchable, boy, but just because you surrounded yourself with sick monsters like yourself doesn't make you above the law. You're going to be arrested for murder, and I will personally see to it that you receive the just punishment. It will be the noose for you. And I will fight to make it public."

Ciel briefly entertained the scenario. It could be fun to pretend like he was going along with the trial and execution only for Sebastian to save him right in front of Randall at the very last second — but this was an empty fantasy, not something he could ever allow to take place in reality.

"That's Earl Phantomhive to you," he drawled. Bard was shifting restlessly, growing paler by the second. Sebastian stood still, but Ciel could sense the tension coiling in his body. "And I'm afraid the execution will have to wait. You have no evidence whatsoever of any crime I committed, least of all murder."

"What do you call this?" Randall snarled, nudging the head with his boot.

Why was he surrounded by idiots? It had to be a curse.

"You will have to explain what you were doing in my house first," Ciel snapped impatiently. He was starting to get bored, and the previous sleepless nights were taking their toll on him. He had to end it quickly. "And you'll have to tell everyone why you were poking your nose into my kitchen. Are you ready to admit to participating in a game that required you to move in with a number of dubious individuals? How believable will anyone find it? Also, when your people ask about the evidence, what are you going to show them? No one here will be letting you take this head, I hope even someone as thick as you realise it. It will be your word against mine. As for the reports… do you seriously think they are real, and that I'm so stupid that I just scattered them around?"

Randall blanched. His sudden confusion was almost sweet, but of course Sebastian had to ruin it.

"Reports?" he repeated. He sounded as incredulous as Randall looked. "Those weren't your poor attempts at writing fiction?"

Great, now he was making both himself and Ciel look like fools in front of the others.

"Shut up," Ciel advised him coldly. "We'll talk about it later."

Sebastian pressed his lips together. He didn't say another word, so Ciel focused on Randall again.

"Needless to say," he uttered, his voice growing softer now, "I will deny your allegations. In addition, I will accuse you of breaking in, something that your testimony is going to support because you'll be willingly placing yourself in my manor. What kind of lunatic barges into an earl's house at night to look through his refrigerators? Though I suppose lunacy runs in your family, so perhaps you'll be excused. You and your daughter will receive treatment rather than a prison sentence. Would that satisfy you?"

Three different things happened at once. Sebastian's confusion spiked, the heat of his interest and curiosity scorching Ciel even at the distance. Bard's expression twisted in horrified disapproval, and Randall exploded with all the fury that'd been pulsating in him. With an enraged roar, he lunged at Ciel, stretching his arms and going straight for his throat.

Ciel blinked, pleased but also taken aback by such an unrestrained display of violence. He didn't have time to do anything else because Sebastian slid right in front of him, grabbing Randall by his own throat and forcing him to stand still.

"I don't think so," he said dispassionately. For a moment, it looked like Randall couldn't move at all — Sebastian's hold had to be extremely restricting.

With a frustrated, helpless growl, Randall stared at Ciel over Sebastian's shoulder, his violent hatred emanating from him in almost palpable waves.

"I should have finished what I started that day in London," he hissed. His body was beginning to shake from the unspent adrenaline. "I should have choked your filthy life out of you when I had that chance. If you didn't have your—"

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Sebastian shifted, and all of a sudden, a chilling wind whispered through the storeroom. It extinguished Bard's torch, leaving only a few weak flickering candles burning. The storeroom plunged into near-darkness, and Ciel nearly groaned out loud.

Everything was quickly heading from a manageable disaster to a catastrophe even he wouldn't be able to handle. Randall, for all his maddening behaviour, was Her Majesty's player, and killing him was something Ciel couldn't afford himself to do. But if Sebastian continued with this overprotective display… Bard witnessing it was bad enough, but Randall, too? What explanation could Ciel possibly give them?

Sebastian was the only being here who could lessen the degree of damage control Ciel would have to do. But for that, he had to calm down, and somehow Ciel didn't think this was going to happen. Sebastian had been too obsessed with determining the reason for his London injury, and based on the darkness that continued to slowly engulf the room, now that he had it, he was planning to make his displeasure known.

"You attacked Young Master in London?" Sebastian wondered. His voice was soft, but only a fool wouldn't hear the deadly steeliness underlying it. "And you dare to insinuate you wish you had done something more?"

Despite his questions, Sebastian obviously didn't expect to get an answer out of Randall. His fingers tightened around his throat and he slowly lifted him off the floor, letting only the tips of his boots touch it. Randall let out a choked gurgle, and the delight that crashed into Ciel at this sight rendered him speechless. It spilled through him in one intoxicating, insistent wave, sending his heart running and igniting fire somewhere in his stomach.

His eyelashes fluttered, but he refused to close his eyes and miss even a second of it. Sebastian was crossing a potentially dangerous line, but couldn't he let himself revel in it for just a moment? Granted, he wasn't certain what it was that pleased him like this, the fact that Sebastian was protecting him or that Randall was being hurt. Maybe both.

"I can see that some of the servants in this house have forgotten what their responsibilities are," Sebastian said coldly. He lifted Randall even higher, and Ciel would have been enthralled by the look of his randomly kicking feet if Bard's sudden exhale didn't catch his attention. Since Sebastian was shielding him, Ciel couldn't see his face, but from the way Bard took a step back, he must have received the worst of Sebastian's death stares. "That you tried to repeat your attack on him so boldly, in Earl Phantomhive's very house, in front of the audience, tells me that you weren't taught a lesson. It seems like I will have to be the one to teach it to you."

Randall's fruitless attempts at getting free were becoming weaker. His eyes were bulging out, and if Sebastian didn't stop soon, this lesson would be the last one in Randall's life.

"That's enough," Ciel commanded. "Put him down."

Sebastian ignored him. His icy wrath kept up its crazed dance through the room, freezing the air and fighting the remaining light. A vibrating greenish-black cloud began to slowly form a cloud around Sebastian, and if Ciel didn't find a way to stop him…

Maybe Randall could still believe that whatever he saw was the result of his fading conscious. Maybe Bard could just ignore it the way he always did. But for these outcomes to be viable, Ciel had to put an end to this situation within the next ten seconds — otherwise, it would be too late.

"Sebastian," he barked. His commanding tone must have reached some part of Sebastian's brain because he turned his head slightly, but he still didn't let go, and this was infuriating as much as it was flattering.

Looked like not sensing his soul didn't make Sebastian any less willing to protect him. He still got angry on Ciel's behalf — angry enough to ignore his orders and common sense.

Good. But unacceptable. If speaking didn't work…

Ciel stepped out from behind Sebastian and wrapped his hand around his wrist. Shivers of strange, heady heat blossomed all over his body when he sank into the inviting unnatural energy Sebastian was radiating, feeling it sing under his touch. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his head cool, but fortunately, Randall's gurgling sounds helped a little.

And it seemed like he'd already succeeded in something — Sebastian was staring at him now, the deadly redness of his stare quickly softening to a more human shade. Holding his gaze, Ciel tapped against his wrist in rapid succession, recreating the secret language they had devised a long time ago.

Stop. This is an order. You're still mine, you have to obey me.

He wasn't certain it would work any better than his verbal commands did, but something about his new approach must have finally gotten through. Sebastian released his grip and let Randall crash to the floor like a sack of sand. He seemed far more interested in Ciel now — one of his hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, and another one touched his chin, tilting his head back to reveal his neck.

The futility of this evaluation was blatantly apparent. Randall hadn't managed to touch him, so whatever damage Sebastian was checking him for couldn't be there. It was absolutely ridiculous, but for some reason, Ciel didn't protest. He stood there patiently, allowing Sebastian to examine him to his satisfaction.

Finally, Sebastian hummed in contentment and let him go. Almost. His fingers slid down to Ciel's wrist and stayed there, holding it firmly but unobtrusively. His attention returned to Randall's panting form, and this time, Ciel caught the moment when the darkness flared in his eyes.

"Let me make one thing clear," Sebastian uttered. A smile touched his lips, but it was as far from what a smile was supposed to be that even Ciel found it disturbing. "If you attempt to inflict any kind of damage on my Master again, the next time your family sees you, you will be chopped into more pieces than your daughter will be able to count. Perhaps I will feed your liquefied remains to her. Would you like that?"

The desire for something Ciel couldn't identify took over his rational thoughts again. He almost swayed on his feet, his skin burning, his lips parting in a pleased sigh. More waves of joy crashed into him when Sebastian placed his shoe on Randall's ankle and pressed against it carefully. His movements seemed feather-light, but the bone cracked anyway, followed by Randall's pained shout.

"It's not broken," Sebastian noted disdainfully. "Consider it your warning. You will leave this house and you will not bring anything that happened here up with anyone. Because I know where you live, and I know how to slip into places unnoticed." The sharp grin he gave Randall was downright frightening, but Ciel felt like he could drown in it. He shook his head, hoping it would be enough to sober him up. His body was behaving in an increasingly odd way, and it was getting tedious to make sense of its incomprehensive needs and demands.

Wheezing but trying to keep all the sounds locked in his mouth, Randall stood up. He nearly fell down, a pained grimace twisting his red face. What was even more fascinating was the wetness of frustrated tears shining in his eyes. The sight was completely unprecedented, and Ciel stared at it greedily, committing every inch of it to memory.

"You may not believe it right now," Randall said, his voice hoarse, "but there will be a reckoning. One day, the both of you monsters will die, and I'll become the last thing you see."

Interestingly, the stare he directed at Sebastian was full of the same blind hatred Ciel used to see thrust at him. It looked like today became the breaking point where Sebastian was put in the same category of irredeemable enemies as Ciel in Randall's eyes. This promised to be interesting in the future.

Randall left the storeroom, limping and not saying another word. Ciel watched him go, and with a snort, he faced Sebastian again only to get distracted by Bard.

Bard was nearly sitting in the still-open refrigerator. He was staring at them like he was seeing them for the first time. There was not a trace of familiarity or fondness on his face — he looked aghast and so pale that Ciel wondered if he was going to collapse.

"How could you have allowed him to lay a finger on Young Master?" Sebastian asked. Once again, his voice was devoid of any emotion — only darkness filled it. "Have you forgotten what your job is? Do you understand the amount of trust I put in you by letting you travel to London with him? Is this is how you repay it?"

Bard flinched, hanging his head in clear guilt. He looked so miserable that Ciel was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Bard's only fault was that he wasn't Sebastian. He couldn't have predicted the danger before it happened, and Ciel himself had provoked Randall without much thought, too used to doing and saying whatever he wished and Sebastian being right there to mitigate any retaliations.

Perhaps this habit went both ways.

"Enough," he said shortly. Belatedly, he realised that Sebastian was still holding his wrist — and honestly, what was up with it? "Bard did the best he could. The situation with Randall went off the rails completely but nothing that happened is serious enough to have real consequences. Bard, you can go to bed now. Seb— demon. Clean up your mess. And then come to my bedroom because we need to have a few words about what it is you think you were doing by putting me in the position where I had to protect you."

Sebastian glanced at Annesley's head in displeasure before giving a resigned nod. Glowering at him, Ciel pointedly removed his wrist from his grip, turned away, and left, hoping Randall had managed to get away and clear the stairs. Seeing him again was the last thing he wanted.

He'd had enough of spying for one day. Tonight, he was going to finally get some sleep.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSC

Apparently, Sebastian had been intending to plant Annesley's head into some suspect's home to divert the possible attention from Ciel. It could have been surprisingly considerate and effective — if he hadn't forgotten about his plan and the presence of this head in Ciel's house.

If it wasn't for the game and if resentment wasn't already tearing Ciel apart, he would have come up with some spectacular punishment. But with everything going on, he was too busy to bother.

He'd scored two victories. Just like Sebastian. Only four players were left, three of them being their servants, but Ciel was still kilometres away from figuring their roles out.

He supposed he could risk by naming Mey-Rin a fake suspect, but what if she was an actual killer? Hiding in plain sight? He couldn't afford to make a mistake, not when the stakes were this high. The humiliation of losing his own game would be mortifying, but cementing it by letting Sebastian nearly drain him of blood? This would be something Ciel wasn't certain he could ever recover from. He would quite possibly choose death over this.

For the days that followed Randall's departure, he invested all of himself into making accurate identifications. He tried to support Lau's inane blabbering about decorations, asking questions and receiving eager but even more random answers. He tried to charm Mey-Rin, but she just scowled at him and walked away. Bard was avoiding him altogether, and Finnie responded with the same oblivious enthusiasm that left Ciel all the more confused.

He spent every night on guard, waiting for someone to make a move, frustration simmering in his chest every time it proved to be futile. Undertaker took night walks sometimes, muttering something under his nose, but he was no longer a player and so his antics didn't matter.

On the fourth night, Ciel understood that he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. The lack of sleep was taking its toll again — his body refused to keep functioning. His mind slowed its work to the extent where he had to concentrate to remember how to shape words, and his eyes fell shut and refused to open again.

He should probably go to his room… one night, he had to get one night of sleep. After that, he could continue to keep watch.

But what if something happened? What if Sebastian won this very night? Four days of nothing were a lot. Maybe he'd already figured something out. Or maybe none of them would be able to move forward because the servants — and Lau — seemed to either misinterpret their instructions or play a game of their own. Could something like this be possible?..

Sleep was drawing him in deeper and deeper. His sluggish thoughts got heavier, and they would have ground to a stop altogether if the air around him hadn't shifted all of a sudden. A snort filled his ears, grating on his exhausted consciousness, before something warm and solid wrapped around him.

"Must you be so stubborn?" Sebastian muttered. His words were exasperated, but his voice was fond, and Ciel didn't feel the instinct to fight him. "You look half-dead. You will never snatch the victory from me if you bring yourself to such a state."

Ciel wanted to protest, but his tongue refused to move. Sebastian must have picked him up because the warmth embraced him from all sides. With some impossible effort, Ciel opened his eyes to throw one dazed look around.

He was still on the floor behind the sofa, but Sebastian had dragged him onto his lap, wrapping a steadying arm around his chest. It felt familiar and comfortable, and Ciel closed his eyes again, shifting so that he could press his face into Sebastian's shoulder.

He heard a soft sigh. Something touched his hair, and the silence set in.

Ciel didn't know how much time passed. He was stuck in the comfortable cocoon of half-dreams, not registering the reality but not losing touch with it either. Sebastian's presence was everywhere, and it felt like it alone was breathing energy into him, eating away at every hard knot the exhaustion had tied beneath his muscles.

Suddenly, something sizzled. Sebastian let out an annoyed hiss but didn't move — only held Ciel tighter. The sizzling went on for a while, and though curiosity was beginning to announce its presence, Ciel didn't feel capable of acting on it yet. The sleepy warmth was too addictive to give it up, so he continued to cling to it, his body relaxing into comfort and safety.

The odd sound disappeared eventually. For some moments, the darkness deepened, but then the awareness shifted somewhere in his mind. Ciel opened his eyes slowly, blinking in an attempt to establish his surroundings. Nothing changed, he and Sebastian were still sitting on the floor in Ciel's secluded spot behind the sofa. Everything was quiet. Peaceful.

"I'm going to change the strategy," Ciel muttered sleepily. His eyelids were beginning to fall shut again. "I give it two days. I win after this."

Sebastian snorted into his neck, the puff of warmth sweeping down Ciel's unprotected skin and leaving goose bumps behind.

"You have to define your strategy first. How are you planning to win if you don't know what to do?"

Ciel grasped for an answer, but the coherence was eluding him. He settled on shrugging, his head falling back against Sebastian's shoulder by itself.

"I know," was all he managed to say. Something hot brushed against the back of his neck again.

"Liar," Sebastian murmured. Ciel tried to swat him, but his muscles were too lazy to obey, so in the end, he dropped his hand on top of Sebastian's, which was still pressing against his chest.

The hand felt abnormally warm. Actually, it seemed like there was a hole seared in Sebastian's glove — Ciel was definitely touching bare skin, not the fabric.

His mind still insisted on not doing anything and falling back asleep, but this time, curiosity was stronger. Ciel took Sebastian's hand and raised it closer to his struggling eyes, trying to organise his thoughts into more comprehensive patterns.

He was right, Sebastian's glove was broken. The edges blackened and fell apart, revealing the seal and… a drawing? An angry-looking drawing. What was…

A vague suspicion moved in his mind. Sebastian pushed him off his lap all of a sudden — Ciel didn't have time to understand anything when he found himself sitting on the carpet instead. Sebastian stopped some distance away, folding his hands behind his back, a shockingly guilty expression flickering on his face, but at this point, it didn't matter. The image of what he'd seen stood brightly before Ciel's eyes. He didn't need to check Sebastian's hand again — he remembered everything there was to remember.

That second new mark wasn't a drawing. It was a seal.

Another seal.

The second seal.

The seal linking Sebastian to someone else.

Despite such an obvious conclusion, his mind refused to believe it. It could be due to the haze of sleep that was slowly fading away, or the sheer impossibility of something like this happening — Ciel couldn't tell. He continued to sit on the floor, lost, too stunned to say or do anything.

Sebastian had anoth…

No. He couldn't finish this thought even mentally.

Something fierce and biting was waking up in his chest, the rage of a magnitude he'd never experienced and didn't know how to handle. Even at its initial hesitant stage, it felt frighteningly powerful — too inhuman for his regrettably human body to withstand. But there was no way of stopping it. Its roots were there, spreading and wrapping around his every bone, so Ciel didn't even want to try.

His jaw clenched, seemingly on its own accord, as the rage tore through him in a crushing, destructive wave, replacing all the traces of sleep and weakness with a white-hot thirst for violence.

Sebastian. Had. Another. Seal.

There. He said it.

Sebastian made a contract with someone else. Someone who had not been in the picture until recently — Ciel didn't see Sebastian without his gloves often, but it still happened regularly. He knew his hands. He knew how they looked. There was nothing but his personal claim written on them, burned deep into Sebastian's skin… and now, suddenly, a rival seal appeared. A smaller one, a dimmer one, but red and angry. Which meant that whatever thing it belonged to, it had called for Sebastian an hour ago. That's what that sizzling was. That's why the glove was ruined. Sebastian's second owner had called for him, and Sebastian didn't come. Probably because he was too busy playing a demon pillow to Ciel.

Was it supposed to be flattering? Right now, Ciel saw nothing but an insult after an insult. His lips parted as he tried to breathe, still adrift, still losing himself in the layers of this fool-smelling swamp Sebastian had insisted on dragging them into. The suffocating tension hung thick between them, and it didn't look like Sebastian was going to be the first to break it. He stayed cowardly silent, hiding his hands behind his back, fighting to look impassive but failing. Ciel could see everything — the guilt, the surprise, the calculation, and he thought that with one little push, the rage in him could incinerate all these shards of feelings along with Sebastian himself. Sebastian might be a demon, but right now, Ciel didn't feel entirely human either. Right now, if they were to fight, he could probably win.

Slowly, he got to his feet. The need to steal some sleep was gone, swallowed by the rage that had transformed into a separate living organism at this point. It crushed and twisted his insides — his body was emanating unhealthy heat, his lungs so full of it that he was about to choke.

"You have ten seconds to convince me that I'm wrong," Ciel said. His voice had dipped into an unnaturally low register.

Sebastian began to open his mouth, but then closed it. Five seconds passed. Twelve. He didn't say a single thing, just continued to stare at him warily.

All right. This was the answer.

The following questions would be harder to bear.

"Who and when?" Ciel hissed. His words sounded distorted to his ears.

Who. And when. And why. Why? Why? Was it because of his current state? Him suddenly having a dull soul that Sebastian couldn't look at? So he, what, went to search for another master, someone with a better soul? In case the spell wasn't going to be lifted and Ciel remained plain and uninspiring?

He wanted to ask. Wanted to scream this question in Sebastian's face, but he knew it would never happen. Who and when were the appropriate questions — cold and necessary, something he could freely ask his treacherous employee. Why, on the other hand, was personal. Wounded.

He could no longer be wounded. He didn't think he had a piece of flesh, mind, or soul that hadn't received a blow from Sebastian.

"I don't know his name," Sebastian said. His voice was strangely subdued. "A boy. Somewhat older than you. I've drawn a contract with him approximately three weeks ago, when I killed Annesley."

Three weeks ago. So before Ciel's soul became the worst affront to a demon's palate. Before he was downgraded to someone simple-minded and unworthy.

It was better… Or was it? At least the spell would explain Sebastian's urge to look for someone more appealing as long as Ciel wasn't available in the way he wanted. But if he got himself another master before, then he'd been already dissatisfied with their contract. And the implications of it…

A shudder went through him. Then another one. It took a moment to understand that the rage was demanding to be let out, rattling the cage made of his bones and skin. His body was shaking, and a distant part of Ciel's mind couldn't help being impressed. He'd never shaken with rage so literally. It was a new experience, another one he had only Sebastian to thank for.

His lungs were starting to constrict painfully, his breathing growing more ragged, and that was when Sebastian suddenly decided to volunteer some information.

"It's meaningless," he blurted out. "This second contract. I made it on a whim and solely because of my hunger. I noticed some of its effects recently, and to shield you from them, I decided to—"

"Stop."

Sebastian's mouth snapped shut. Now, of all times, he was choosing to be obedient. How sweet.

Very slowly, Ciel took in a breath. Held it, not bothering to count the seconds, simply letting it wash over his body and bring some coolness into it. He didn't know if it helped — he didn't notice. The only thing he heard was the furious pounding of his blood; the only thing he felt was…

He didn't know. No adequate words existed to define it.

Sebastian had an unparalleled gift of pushing him through one rock bottom into another. Every time Ciel's feet touched the sand, every time he thought he could not fall any lower, another hole opened and sucked him in, and this pattern went on for eternity. There was no stopping or breaking it, it could only ever get worse.

Just an hour ago, he'd thought he'd never be more at odds with Sebastian than they were after the spell. That there was no way to humiliate and hurt him any further.

He was wrong. As always, Sebastian strived to defy his expectations.

"Choose," Ciel uttered. He couldn't assess the intonations of his own words — he was hearing them from afar, like they were coming out of someone else's mouth. "Choose right now because if you think I'm going to let this st—"

"You," Sebastian interrupted him. The sharp insistence and urgency of his voice were startling enough to make Ciel falter. "Don't be absurd. It will always be you. I told you, this other contract is nothing. I made it so that I could have a quick meal — I don't know his name and I'm not interested in learning it."

This… was acceptable. Or it was supposed to be. Maybe Ciel could understand it logically — after all, Sebastian hadn't eaten anything for years. He had to be starving. He spent most of his time in the manor, he chose to stay with Ciel in his useless sleepy state instead of rushing to respond to his other master's summons; the way he was staring at him now, uncertain, almost nervous, definitely regretful…

All of this had to make the situation more palatable. Only Ciel didn't think he had it in himself to agree with his own reasoning.

The rage was still there. Shrouded in apathy and disbelief. And spending even one more minute with Sebastian was the last thing he wanted — his stomach spasmed in protest at the thought.

He didn't know what was going to happen next. He didn't know how they were going to co-exist and how he could go back to a normal state, how to break away from this cloud of unreality.

As always, then. One thing at a time.

"What was his wish?" Ciel asked.

"Money," Sebastian replied. Once again, he did it very quickly, like he thought that pretending to be a helpful loyal servant would calm Ciel down. "I have already fulfilled my part of the contract."

His stare was piercing now, as if he was trying to communicate something he couldn't say aloud.

Ciel was not interested.

"I'm going to get dressed," he murmured, his words cold. "Then you will take me to him and we will finish this. And we won't talk about it again."

He didn't know what Sebastian was going to think about it, but based on how his tension receded, Ciel's order pleased him. Perhaps he thought that not talking meant forgetting.

As if.

"Would you like me to—" Sebastian started, and Ciel glared at him, effectively shutting him up.

"No," he spat. Even such a small word vibrated with his revulsion. "Tanaka will help me. I don't want to see you unless it's absolutely necessary."

Tension filled Sebastian's shoulders again, a dark shadow flickering across his face. Disgusted, Ciel turned away from him.

"Go wake him up," he ordered dully. "I'll be waiting in my bedroom."

He didn't look back as he approached the stairs.

He didn't know what would happen if he had.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSC

The sun was only beginning to rise when they stopped in front of the unfamiliar house in London. Sebastian snapped his fingers, unlocking the door and letting Ciel pass first. He even bowed respectfully, a picture of flawlessness that made Ciel grind his teeth so much that they started to hurt.

He didn't need this fake perfection. He just wanted to be done — with the fool who encroached upon his contract, with Sebastian, with everything. And then there was a game that Ciel no longer wanted to play but which he couldn't give up.

He was so tired.

It was dark inside the house, so Sebastian lit a couple of candles. Their surroundings grew more visible, and Ciel blinked, staring at the mind-numbing combination of colours everywhere.

This was… not what he'd expected. Gold and silver goblets, trinkets, vases and coins were cluttering the room: they were on the shelves, next to the walls, even on the floor. The piles of clothes, toys, and other rubbish were towering in the most unlikely places — it seemed like a crazed starved thief lived here. Who decorated this house? Not Sebastian for sure.

When it's over, Ciel should give this house to Lau — let him experiment and act on his ramblings about the design to his heart's desire.

"Where did you find this thing?" Ciel wondered. Even to his ears, his question sounded ugly. "In an asylum or some prison? What deranged mind would do something like this to their house?"

"Not everyone has your exquisite tastes," Sebastian responded. Another attempt at flattery? Why was he even trying? Ciel thought his simple-mindedness was too abhorrent to Sebastian to care about his opinions.

There was a loud sound from one of the rooms.

"That's you?" someone called. The voice was followed by hurried footsteps. "Did you change your mind then— oh!"

Well. This moment couldn't be delayed.

Almost reluctantly, Ciel looked up, and his heart dropped when he saw the so-called owner of this gaudy, tasteless house.

Like Sebastian said, it was a boy. He looked older, but Ciel couldn't determine by how much.

What Sebastian hadn't said was that this boy bore an eerie resemblance to him. A resemblance too strong to be a coincidence.

Biting his lip hard enough to hurt, Ciel examined this— person, his skin crawling just from the fact of his existence.

The boy had similar eyes and hair. Similar complexion. Similar bone structure. It was already hard to swallow, but the worst thing, the absolutely worst thing, hid in their differences.

This imposter was better looking.

The dismay that suddenly flooded him at the thought was startling enough to render him speechless.

Ciel had never compared his looks to anyone else's before. This had never occurred to him, he'd never been concerned with such things, so it was all the odder that this particular realisation stole the ground from under his feet. He wavered, somehow even more upset now than he'd been five minutes ago, and Sebastian instantly reached to steady him.

"Don't touch me," Ciel snapped, reeling away and sending him a warning glare. Sebastian pursed his lips. He didn't say anything, so Ciel returned to observing his supposed replacement.

The boy was taller and had softer features. His hair curled in a way Ciel's never had, and Ciel was suddenly seized by resentment so vicious that he had to fight a fierce impulse to grab a knife and cut each of those locks off. His blood boiled, sending heat to every part of him, and whatever expression he was wearing must have frightened the boy because he flinched back.

"W-who are you?" he stammered. "Are you… are you a demon, too?"

A demon? Ciel let out a derisive snort, watching the boy with narrowed eyes, trying to understand what could have possibly motivated Sebastian to make a contract with him.

If he were just hungry, then maybe, possibly, Ciel would have understood. Eventually. But this boy looked too much like him for it to be an accident. What was this supposed to mean? Where had Sebastian even found him?

"My lord," Sebastian said quietly. He was a disgusting traitor, but Ciel still glanced at him. "What would you like me to do?"

"Are you talking to me?" the boy asked. He sounded a little braver now. "I mean, you are, aren't you? You are my demon."

Rage, dark and burning, rose up to block his airways. Ciel clenched his fists, biting back a growl.

He wished he were a demon. Then he could rip this stupid excuse for a human apart with his own claws. He wished he had a demon he could trust to do this task for him. He wished he had a demon who would have never done what Sebastian did, who would have looked at this boy and dismissed him like a cockroach instead of elevating him to the status of someone special, choosing him, preferring him.

How could Sebastian do this? He'd nearly choked the life out of Ciel for thinking he'd been communicating with another demon, and meanwhile, he had this little second contract stashed in a hidden house? There was no punishment Ciel could think of that would rival what Sebastian deserved.

But he would think of it. He would make Sebastian regret looking away from him long enough to notice another contract.

He certainly wasn't looking away now. All his attention was on Ciel.

"My lord?" he repeated. He didn't even glance at the boy, but it was a very small comfort after everything he'd done.

"Complete your contract," Ciel ordered through clenched teeth. Then he thought about Sebastian consuming this little idiot, taking his soul — kissing him. Because that's how he'd said demons took souls. Through a kiss.

Nausea gripped him, chased by new floods of helpless anger.

Would this indignity never end? Would he be forced to watch Sebastian kiss this… abomination right in front of him?

No. Never.

They'd have to change their plans, then.

"On second thought, you don't deserve to eat," Ciel said. His own vocal cords found the acid in his voice corrosive, wilting under its influence. "And this thing doesn't deserve to get eaten by you. You said you fulfilled your part of the deal with him? Good. Then kill him, break the contract, and let the reapers take his soul."

Sebastian bowed to him. He didn't attempt to protest or express his displeasure in any way — he was still radiating that sickening obedience that was meant to placate, clearly failing to understand that it was far too late for that. No amount of submission was going to make Ciel forget what had brought them here.

"Now wait a moment!" the fake owner backed away, his eyes round with fear and uncertainty. "What's this? Sebastian, I'm your Master! I thought we agreed, you left that mark and I—"

"'Sebastian'," Ciel repeated flatly. "Is that how you introduced yourself?"

Another respectful lowering of the eyes.

"It is my name," Sebastian murmured. He sounded overly intimate now, like he was trying to convey some secret with his tone. Ciel didn't want to know it. "May I proceed?"

Ciel waved his hand in permission.

"Wait!" the boy cried out again. His terrified eyes darted to Ciel before going back to Sebastian, seeking reassurance, seeking protection. Like Sebastian was the familiar presence that could save him from what was coming. "Why do you listen to him? I thought we had an agreement! You helped me, and you bought me that beautiful suit, you took me to Diamond for those cakes — I thought, after that I thought we are friends! You care about me, you have to, haven't you? Haven't you?"

Diamond?

"You took him to my favourite tearoom?" Ciel asked slowly. Just when he thought nothing could possibly shock him more… And what, Sebastian had actually spent time with this thing? Took him places? Took him to an establishment that Ciel liked, the one they frequented together? "What is wrong with your head! What is this supposed to mean?!"

His explosion drew Sebastian's focus towards him. He looked embarrassed and guilty — always, always guilty, but despite the fury burning beneath his skin, Ciel directed his glare at the boy. The stupid, unworthy idiot who tried to put some ridiculous claim on Sebastian, not knowing that Ciel had already claimed everything there was to claim and that Sebastian belonged to him.

Their eyes met, and the boy's jaw suddenly went slack.

"Wait a moment," he whispered. "I… the suit. It was yours?"

Ciel blinked, genuinely taken aback. He opened his mouth to demand an elaboration when Sebastian jumped into motion. He materialised behind his second owner seemingly out of thin air, violently jerking his head back by the hair and thrusting his hand into his mouth. Ciel had no idea what he was doing but he heard a muffled terrified wail. Then Sebastian stepped away, throwing something on the floor and pushing the boy to the farther corner of the room, away from the light — and from Ciel.

It was… why was he…

Sebastian's glove was wet with blood. The boy, wherever he was now, was letting out disturbing moaning sounds that made Ciel's hair stand on end. He hadn't seen what happened, but based on all the clues, he could make a good guess. Sebastian had torn the boy's tongue out to stop him from talking. Then he kicked him into a darker part of the room so that Ciel wouldn't have to see all the blood.

How thoughtful. And how absurd that now was the moment Sebastian had chosen to show his consideration.

The low half-human sounds from the darkness sent shivers down Ciel's spine. He tensed further when Sebastian stepped closer to him.

"How would you like me to kill him?" he asked. He sounded playful, like it wasn't his master rapidly losing blood and dying from torture here in the room with them. Was this how he behaved when the contracts ended? Would Ciel be treated to the same terrifying indifference and cruelty when there was nothing left to bind them?

The boy… A part of Ciel wanted to see his death. This part didn't mind the blood — it craved it. It desired vengeance, it screamed with possessiveness. But this boy wasn't at fault, not really. His only crime was being an idiot who made a contract over a stupid wish and who believed that a demon could be a friend.

Ciel couldn't say he'd been much smarter, especially at the beginning.

He couldn't say there was a big difference between them at all.

"I don't care how you kill him, but do it quickly," he said distantly. The terrible groans unnerved him. "I want to go home."

Sebastian uttered his agreement, and Ciel turned away, walking in the direction of the front door. He didn't want to stay in this house for even a second longer than necessary. Didn't want to hear the sounds this other boy was making. He wasn't going to ask Sebastian any more questions — not about the tearoom, not about the suit. He honestly wasn't certain he could withstand hearing the answers, whatever they were.

Too much had happened. He needed time to recover, and if he had to forget about this house and its dead owner for this, then so be it.

The next two days passed almost in a blur. Ciel made an effort to interact with the remaining players, but focusing on the game was difficult, especially since he still didn't see a way to make progress.

Sebastian was constantly lurking somewhere in the vicinity, waiting to be seen. Ciel ignored him. For the first time in a long while, he had absolutely nothing to say.

He would have preferred not to see Sebastian at all, only it wasn't possible. Not just because of the game, which was beginning to feel like a chore, but because Sebastian refused to deviate from his old irritating pattern of behaviour. Some things didn't change even through the years: the more Ciel ran from him, the more Sebastian haunted him; the more Ciel needed him, the further he drifted away. Right now, they were stuck at the former stage — Ciel wanted distance, and Sebastian did everything to take it from him.

At least it looked like Ciel not having a mesmerising soul stopped bothering Sebastian all that much. Either he got used to it or he found their current problem more relevant than anything else. Gone were the days when he refused to even look at him — now he was drowning Ciel in his presence, and since he wasn't technically a butler for the duration of the game, Ciel had no idea how to get rid of him.

After the mandatory library meeting, he went to his office to read the latest letters. Sebastian entered twenty seconds later, boldly taking the opposite armchair and curling with his long legs on it.

If you get it dirty, I'll make you clean it with your tongue, Ciel wanted to say, but the words died before they could be born. Bitterness and apathy robbed him of all the spite and poison he possessed. It felt like when the rage from two days ago failed to find an outlet, it died right there, in his body, between his ribs, leaving only toxic remnants behind. These remnants were now slowly sucking all the life and energy out of him, so even when Ciel knew what to say, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't see the point.

"Are you ready to identify the next player?" Sebastian asked him. Great. Questions requiring an answer, and a humiliating one at that.

Ciel half-shrugged with his shoulder. He didn't look up from the letter he was reading, and even like this, he could sense the agitated displeasure flaring at a distance.

Five minutes of blissful silence, and then Sebastian decided to speak again.

"If I forfeit my victory," he said carefully, "will you be willing to overlook this… transgression?"

At first, Ciel thought he must have heard it wrong. He rewound the words, analysed them again, and when they stayed the same, his heart skipped a fascinated beat. Some new emotion began to swirl inside him slowly, rising closer and closer to the surface — he didn't want to feel it, but in his astonishment, he couldn't fight it.

Sebastian was really offering to give up his chance at a victory for his forgiveness? Why would he do that?

"Who told you that you are going to win?" Ciel asked just to distract himself with something he understood better. "And why would I agree to a proposition that annoys me?"

"Why would it annoy you?"

"Because if you lose without actually losing, I'll be bored. The point of the game is to have fun, not to trade a potential victory for a favour."

Sebastian tilted his head, watching him intently. Ciel couldn't read his expression this time, so he didn't know if Sebastian understood his point, disagreed with it, or was expecting it to begin with.

Another thought occurred. It exploded in his mind in a shower of sparks, and Ciel stared at Sebastian, his mouth opening slightly in his shock.

Sebastian hadn't been offering the verbal victory to him… had he? He'd meant the actual, real one. The victory that came with the prize Ciel had outlined before their game began.

Sebastian was willing to reveal his true name.

Everything stopped. Even the time seemed to stay still. Heat spread across his chest, warming it uncomfortably, and Ciel licked his dry lips, barely managing to keep himself seated.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said. Feeling like he was in a dream, he put the letter he'd been holding away. His correspondence couldn't exist at this moment. "You are not suggesting just ending the game and accepting my victory in it. You are saying you are ready to pay the price I have set."

Sebastian's gaze remained intense and piercing, and Ciel's skin burned from the impact. After a slight pause, there was a nod, and Ciel's heart lurched somewhere violently.

All right. He was surprised. Amazed, even. Because… why would Sebastian ever offer something like this? Even if Ciel won, he was certain that Sebastian would do everything to avoid paying him. He would twist and lie and obfuscate until giving up felt like a better alternative. And now he was willing to share such a huge, sacred mystery? For what, a vague concept like forgiveness? He couldn't possibly want it this much. What was Ciel's forgiveness worth to him?

"You are going to tell me your true name?" Ciel clarified — just in case he was still missing something and he and Sebastian were talking about different things.

Sebastian gave him a short strange smile.

"Yes," he confirmed.

Yes.

Yes. Ciel could learn his real name. And behind this name hid the power that, according to Sebastian, no human should ever have over a demon. The power that had next to no limits and the destructiveness of which could shake the entire hell.

And he was ready to give it to Ciel.

The shock was too weak of a word to describe the hurricane of emotions whirling in Ciel right now. He raised his hand to smooth down his hair and noticed that it was shaking slightly from the sudden influx of adrenaline.

To agree to Sebastian's offer… he had never been as sorely tempted before. This little agreement could solve several problems at once. It could put an end to a game that Ciel wasn't still sure any of them could win. It would show that his favour meant something to Sebastian because he was ready to trade his most guarded secret in exchange for it. It would prove that wretched demon-acquaintance wrong, and it would gift a unique power to Ciel, elevating him above everyone who shared a contract with Sebastian before.

He would finally be special. He would finally be remembered because surely Sebastian hadn't and wouldn't make such an offer to just anyone?

The implications of it all went to his head, filling it with delicious fog. Delight and happiness began their dance, the coldness started to melt, and the first sprouts of joy and affection broke through the layers of apathy.

And this, this was a huge sign of something being majorly wrong.

Ciel paused, forcing himself to subdue all the feelings. Wanting them to fade before he had to stoop to acknowledging the reason that gave birth to them — the desperate longing to jump on Sebastian's offer and take the easy way out. To solve all the problems at once.

Yes, it would be simple. But that was exactly why he had to do the opposite.

Any advantage of having a new power shattered if he had to sell his pride for it.

Sebastian had betrayed his trust. Twice. First by making a secret second contract, then by rejecting him over something Ciel had no control over. This violation of trust did not deserve to be forgiven.

Sebastian started to feel threatened over Ciel's coldness? He wanted to cut the distance between them, even though he'd been the one to create it first?

This was his power. This was his success, and he wasn't going to trade it for one meagre word.

"No," Ciel said. Bone-deep satisfaction seared his nerve endings when Sebastian's face contorted in shock.

"No?" he repeated. He sounded so flabbergasted, bordering on insulted, that Ciel nearly laughed.

He'd made the right decision. He didn't need any new deals with this treacherous, untrustworthy demon being — one contract was enough.

"No," he said again. "If I am to learn your name, I will win the right to it. I don't need you to make concessions for me. And I'm not going to overlook anything. Your recent behaviour has shown how little I can trust you and how fickle your promises are. I won't let this lesson go — I will keep it close until the end. Is that clear?"

For some time, Sebastian continued to look at him with the same disbelieving expression. Then his eyes narrowed and he stood up abruptly, almost dropping the armchair to the side. Ciel was treated to a long, unpleasant glare, and his lips twitched in a sardonic smile.

"What, did no one reject you before?" he drawled. His words were poisonous. "Maybe you overestimated the importance of your name. Just because I want to win it doesn't mean that I actually need it. Certainly not enough to give up my game for it."

Sebastian's posture grew tighter. The rigid lines of his shadow trembled, betraying his agitation, and Ciel could swear he caught a glimpse of wounded pride beneath the confusion. The blissful intoxication from it made his head spin, and he grinned a little unsteadily, feeding on every second of it.

"You should cancel all the appointments you've been making for the next week, then," Sebastian spat, and oh, even his voice dripped with affront. "Because the victory in this game will be mine, and you will lose a bigger part of your blood as a result. All you'll be able to do is lie like a helpless doll in your bed, for days, entirely on my mercy. I suggest that you prepare yourself for this inevitability in advance."

Ciel smirked, derisively to no end, showing what he thought of this so-called inevitability.

As he'd expected, Sebastian disliked it even more. Pursing his lips tightly, he whirled around in his dramatic fashion and disappeared in the air, openly violating Ciel's order of not doing anything with his powers unless it was vital.

Though perhaps this instance was vital indeed. Sebastian had to leave or he'd have possibly ended up breaking Ciel's neck — not out of anger, for once, but due to mortification and intense embarrassment.

A smile kept clinging to Ciel's lips, and he was reluctant to chase it away. While he refused Sebastian's proposition, his mood was steadily improving, and with it came a new flood of determination mixed with excitement.

Enough of his hesitation. He was going to unmask the next player, and he was going to employ Sebastian's method to do it.

He just had to choose his victim.

SCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSCSC

It was always better to start with the weakest links, so the choice was down to Finnie and Mey-Rin. Breaking their resistance and manipulating them into giving him a hint would be easier than doing the same to Lau or Bard. Perhaps it wouldn't be entirely fair, but Sebastian had made some secret deal with Ran-Mao, so who said Ciel couldn't follow his example?

In the end, he chose Finnie. Ciel left the house, squinting at the wintery sun and shivering when the wind slipped beneath his coat. The walk towards the greenhouse was a short one, but he still felt frozen by the time he made it there.

"Young Master!" Finnie cried out. He jumped to his feet, looking genuinely happy to see him. "What can I do for you?"

"I came to talk about your role," Ciel said gravely. A joyful grin faded from Finnie's lips, a concerned frown coming to replace it.

"Yes?" he said, his voice wobbling uncertainly. "Am I… am I in trouble?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

Finnie blinked at him. He looked like he was waiting for elaborations, but Ciel stayed silent, just measuring him with a cold expectant gaze.

Finnie didn't do well in stressful situations like this. He also didn't like silence. Just a little pressure, and he would break — and hopefully, Ciel would pick up something valuable out of it.

Like he'd anticipated, Finnie gave up first.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. The distress in his words was so heartfelt that Ciel almost felt a pang of guilt. "Did I do something wrong? I promise I can fix this, if you would just tell me…"

"You had a very specific role to play. And yet I haven't seen you making even the slightest effort. At first I thought you needed more time to adjust, to come up with a strategy, but it's been over a week and you haven't done a single thing. Why?"

Ideally, Finnie should be overcome with guilt and defensiveness. Ciel didn't think he would blurt out what role he got, but he could start listing the actions he'd taken over these days to persuade Ciel that he was wrong, to show that he'd been trying to play, even if badly. Connecting the pieces of information and building a conclusion on their basis would hardly take much time, so if everything went well, Ciel would have his answer within five minutes.

But Finnie, surprisingly, seemed determined to derail his plan. He blinked at him in confusion, his face growing pale and his eyes slowly filling with tears.

A shudder went through Ciel's body.

Not this. Not the tears. It was better to make one sharp push, to receive his answers, and to get out of here as fast as he could.

"Have you decided to break my orders on purpose?" he asked, raising his voice. "Why haven't you been playing? Everyone did something that their role demanded them to do, even my enemies, like Randall. You are the only one who didn't bother. And if you have no respect for me and for what I ask you to do, why do I need a servant like you in the first place?"

There they were — the tears. Finnie burst into them loudly and unabashedly as always, and Ciel cringed away, mortified enough to drop his eyes for a moment.

How could anyone be this open with their emotions? How could anyone, especially a man, make themselves so vulnerable and open to an attack? Finnie was a mystery, and it was physically uncomfortable to be next to him when he lost control like this.

"I'm sorry!" he cried out, rubbing his wet face and letting out another shaky sob. "I've been trying, I promise! I spend most of my day here, I've managed to save your white roses, but the red ones died. Sebastian said you never liked them anyway, but I still felt so terrible, and then—"

"Roses?" Ciel repeated. Confusion hindered his second-hand embarrassment for a moment. "Why do they have to do with anything?"

"I ruined them! Again!" Finnie closed his eyes with his hands, shaking his head desperately. "I know how much trust you've put in me, it means so much to me, but I failed! But I promise I'll do my best from now on!"

"How can the roses be connected to your role?" Ciel snapped, exasperation briefly overshadowing the rest of his feelings. "You ruined them countless times before, it's not an unusual occurrence."

His words seemed to make the situation worse.

"I know!" Finnie wailed. He was choking on his tears now, and step by step, Ciel began to back away. "I'm your gardener, you trust me, but I just keep ruining things! I'm sorry!"

All right, so this plan was a failure. There was no way Ciel could tolerate spending another minute here. He needed a weak link, not a broken one.

"Stop crying," he commanded, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. At least it worked — Finnie gulped, peering at him from between his fingers. "I don't care about the roses. You are a good gardener. Or a bad one, but it doesn't matter. I'm not that fond of flowers anyway."

Finnie dropped his hands now, but instead of looking relieved, he was starting to appear scandalised.

Great. It looked like Ciel couldn't win here.

Not bothering to say another word, he fled the greenhouse, disappointment and annoyance weighting down each step he took. He looked back just once, and when he did, he noticed Bard kneeling next to Finnie, slapping him on his back in comfort.

What had Bard been doing there? Checking on Pluto? Why hadn't he made his presence known, then?

To think that he had more questions than answers after what was supposed to be a winning move!

Bristling, Ciel went up to his office, throwing his coat onto the back of the armchair and dropping his head on his table with a sigh.

Finnie was the worst player in the world. The player who seemed too obsessed with gardening to remember anything else. Hopefully, trying a similar approach with Mey-Rin would have better outcomes. If not…

"Things didn't go according to your plan?" a silky voice poured into his ear. Ciel jerked, recoiling slightly when he saw Sebastian's face just inches from his own. "My, my, Young Master. Trying to cheat your way towards a victory?"

"I didn't cheat any more than you did," Ciel retorted. He turned away with a sneer, the slight surprise he felt from Sebastian's unexpected appearance fading. "Were you eavesdropping on me as always? Then it's you who's cheating. We agreed that you wouldn't be using the abilities you can control during the game. Your demonic hearing is among them."

"I didn't need my demonic hearing to notice that you went outside. You leave the manor so infrequently that any change in your patterns instantly draws my attention."

"That's because you insist on stalking me in the hopes that I will lead you to a clue. Honestly, how pathetic is that? First you attempted to hunt down the meaning of the ink I used to catch someone, and now this? Can't you do anything by yourself?"

Sebastian scowled at him. He began to say something when the door slammed open all of a sudden, revealing grim-faced Bard. He was clenching something in his fist, and his expression was so dark that tension flooded Ciel instantly.

"What is it?" he asked. Sebastian jumped from the table he'd been sitting on — Ciel truly hoped this outrageous conduct would end with the game because it had the potential to drive him crazy.

"You two lost," Bard said flatly. His eyes were glimmering with something unknown — Ciel had never seen him like this before. "The killer has made their move."

For a moment, he froze. He knew Sebastian had the identical expression of shock — for once, the two of them were in perfect unity. Because… what?

Sebastian regained his ability to speak first.

"What do you mean, the killer has made their move?" he asked. Every new word sounded darker and tenser than the last.

"It was poison. They poisoned Young Master."

Ciel gaped, his hands going to his chest automatically, as if trying to identify any traces of poison there. His heart was beginning to beat wildly, astonishment and disappointment gradually descending on his shoulders with all their crushing weight.

He lost? Just like that?

Well, Sebastian didn't win either, but it brought him little comfort. The point of the game was to prove him wrong, to show him that he didn't understand humans as well as he thought he did. That they weren't that simple. But with this development, all Ciel's planning went straight to hell.

"What did you expect?" Bard asked almost rudely. "This game has been going on for ages and you still didn't guess who the killer is. If not today, it would have happened tomorrow. And was it worth it? Was any of this worth it?"

"You are talking too much," Sebastian said through gritted teeth. He took a step to Ciel, his reddened eyes assessing him frantically. "Do you know what poison was used?"

"Yes," ignoring Ciel like he wasn't here, Bard approached Sebastian and put something into his hand. With a start, Ciel saw a vial. "Unlike you, I wasn't prepared to accept the bad outcome, so I prepared for it just in case."

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up.

"You are our ally?" he clarified, and Bard snorted, rolling his eyes like it was a ridiculous question.

"What do you think?" he snapped. "Who else would be invested enough to give you the antidote to save him! Hurry up, I don't know how much there is still left!"

The urgency in his voice seemed to trigger Sebastian into a panic mode. He whirled around to Ciel, uncorking the vial — his movements were jerky, uneven, and something about this just exuberated Ciel's tension further. Almost unconsciously, he took a step back.

"No," he said. He didn't think he would say this until he did — Sebastian didn't see it coming either because he stopped, his face twisting into something comically bewildered.

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"Something isn't right here," Ciel murmured. His thoughts were racing, the pieces of information he'd gathered during the game whirling in a violent dance. Bard was their ally? But he avoided Ciel and treated him like an enemy. He only fawned over Sebastian, standing close to him, talking to him, giving this vial to him…

"Don't be stupid!" Sebastian snapped at him. He took another step in his direction, thrusting the vial under his nose. "You could have only been poisoned through food. It's been one hour and thirty eight minutes since your last meal, which means that the poison must have already spread through your system—"

"Yeah, and I would be already feeling its effects!" Ciel growled. His own worry fed on Sebastian's intense anxiety, squeezing his throat in a suffocating hold. Or was it the poison? No. No, something was wrong.

"Drink it!" Sebastian snarled. His eyes flared madly, the human mask melting into something more primal, something demonic and frightening. He began to move again, and Ciel backed away, feeling truly threatened now.

"Wait," he insisted. "This isn't right. Bard can't be— he's probably—"

A killer? But the person with this role was supposed to try to murder him with their own hands. Also, why would a killer single out Sebastian? Ciel's game presupposed only two alliances, one between him and Sebastian with their unknown ally and one between the killer and…

Something clicked. The whirling images came to a halt, forming one specific picture. Its edges were rough, some bits were missing, but the essence was clear. Ciel's eyes grew wide with shock and outrage, and he glared at Bard vehemently, clenching his fists.

"You!.."

He didn't have a chance to finish his accusation because at this very moment, Sebastian grabbed him. It wasn't like the usual hold that Ciel was used to — it was inhumanly strong and violent, ignoring every notion of personal autonomy or basic care principles. Ciel's bones groaned from the impact when Sebastian's body collided with his. A strong hand jerked him by his hair roughly and forced his head back. Sebastian's fingers pried his mouth open, and Ciel kicked him with both legs, with all his insufficient strength, desperately trying to wrench himself away.

"Stop, you idiot!" he yelled. He managed to turn away, pressing his face into Sebastian's chest to complicate his access to him. "Finnie isn't in the game! Bard ruined it! He made you the killer, he's your helper!"

There was no trace of recognition or comprehension on Sebastian's face. Despite everything they'd gone through, despite the countless situations they experienced, Ciel had never seen such a distinctly non-human look on him. At this point, he doubted that Sebastian could understand human speech at all — the only thing still connecting him to the concept of humanity was his form, but even it was twisting rapidly, shedding its recognisable features.

With the terrifyingly empty expression, Sebastian lifted him off the ground with one hand, and then he hit him. It was a strange blow — it caught Ciel from the side, in his ear, defeaning him and numbing him to everything. The pain from it wasn't sharp like when Sebastian had accidentally knocked his tooth out, but it there — dull, swimming, and dizzying. His body went pliant, his head began to spin, and for some time, all he could hear was ringing. He blinked dazedly, his consciousness fading only to flare with a weak stubborn light again. A small part of him noted the way Sebastian easily forced his head back again and poured the contents of the vial into his mouth. The liquid was bitter and disgusting, and it smelled even worse.

It was this smell that succeeded in clearing some of the fog in Ciel's mind. Vaguely familiar, one that instantly made nausea stir in his stomach. Acid seemed to flood him from inside, and when Sebastian finally put him down, he dropped to his knees, unable to stand by himself.

"Idiot," he croaked. His limbs were trembling, the dizziness from the blow lazily entwining with sudden bursts of weakness. "Of all the instances… you could ignore me… to do it now… how stupid can you…"

Nausea tied his insides into one forceful knot and was now pulling at it harshly. Ciel doubled over when a flood of something hot and bitter shot up to his throat. He vomited on the floor, his vision going dark for a moment, his body shaking so much that his consciousness began to fade away again. It seemed to go on forever, and when the vomit finally stopped, Ciel continued to cling to the floor for several endless minutes, staring at the little spot on the carpet intently.

Focus. He had to focus. He was still feeling awful, the pounding in his head only accelerating, his eyes watering faster than he could blink, but these were familiar sensations. Unpleasant, yes, but familiar. Not deadly.

Bard had made a terrible mix of something Ciel was violently allergic to. That's what the vial had — not poison. So his life wasn't in danger. Hopefully.

It took an impossible effort, but at some point, Ciel managed to raise his head and to look around. He didn't have the strength to feel startled when he saw Sebastian kneeling next to him, holding him by his shoulders. He'd been so focused on himself, on staying conscious, that his mind had stopped registering the existence of everything else.

Now that he more or less regained his grip on himself, Ciel tried to assess the situation anew.

Sebastian looked pale and shocked. He wore such an uncharacteristically lost expression that it was instantly clear: he hadn't figured anything out yet. He was probably still confident that Ciel had been poisoned by someone else, hoping that his so-called antidote would start working soon.

Honestly, and this was the smartest creature of hell? A demon with over millennia of experience? Ciel was smarter than him, it wasn't even a question now — and at least he was capable of hearing what others said to him!

"You," Ciel spat, pointing his shaky finger at Bard. "You ruined my game. Who gave you the right to alter the roles?"

"Alter?" Sebastian echoed. Oh, so he was listening now. Ciel sent him a an eviscerating glare, his fury attempting to fight the weakness and rise from within.

"How dumb are you?" he growled. His voice was weak, but it still had an effect — Sebastian's eyes widened incredulously. "Bard changed the rules without telling us! Finnie wasn't a player, he didn't even know there was a game in progress. By excluding him, Bard got one free role, that of a killer, and he gave it to you."

At first, Sebastian continued to stare at him like Ciel had gone mad, but then something shifted. Realisation began to break through the inhuman redness, the thoughts whirling in calculations before apparently coming to the same conclusion Ciel had.

At last. Why couldn't he have done it sooner? And was Ciel the one who had to suffer the consequences of his slowness?

"You made me his killer," Sebastian said slowly, like he was tasting these words, still not sure how to take them. His gaze stopped at Bard, who was watching them with a conflicted but stubborn expression. "That was the plan from the beginning? I was supposed to kill him with your help?"

The full meaning seemed to hit Sebastian only at this moment. His eyes snapped to the empty vial, then to Ciel, who was unable to get up, and then back to Bard. The bloodthirsty fury that lit his face up would have been deeply satisfying if Ciel wasn't currently dying to yell in frustration — at Sebastian, at Bard, at himself for not figuring everything out sooner. Although how could he have done it? Who in their mind would guess that Bard could suddenly get this arrogant and independent?

Sebastian moved a little, and with a pang of anxiety, Ciel realised that he shifted into a crouch. Only it wasn't a defensive one — it was the one Ciel knew preceded an attack. In most cases, it was graceful and mesmerising, a pleasure to watch, but he knew what it implied right now.

Sebastian had come to a somewhat incorrect conclusion — again. He thought Bard forced him to give Ciel real poison, that Ciel was actually in danger. It was probably the worst, the most exquisite insult anyone could have subjected him to — to manipulate him into killing Ciel with his own hands before their contract reached its natural end. If he wasn't thrown in the middle of it, Ciel would have applauded Bard's audacity.

But it also meant that all hell was about to break loose. Ciel could already feel the uncontrollable, suffocating volumes of energy gathering around them like a storm. Sebastian was angry — no, he was far beyond that. It seemed like his rage overshadowed even his protectiveness because his attention, his entire being, was firmly fixed on Bard.

With the corner of his eye, Ciel noticed a few feathers materialising out of nothing. The darkness began to descend on the room — another dangerous sign. At this very second, Bard was the worst enemy in Sebastian's eyes, and though Bard deserved to be taught a lesson, Ciel didn't want him to die, not yet.

"Sebastian," he commanded sharply. He wasn't really expecting his words to penetrate the veil of murderous fury surrounding Sebastian, and he was right, Sebastian didn't react. His features got oddly elongated, darkening by the second, his fiery-red pupils standing out and glowing in a distinctly non-human way. Bard was seeing it all — Sebastian must have decided he wouldn't let him out of this room alive, so he didn't bother to hide, and it could potentially lead to a catastrophe of a different kind.

Damn it.

The first drops of panic began to seep through his tired mind. Ciel had to do something and fast — he didn't know what Sebastian was waiting for, but he could lunge at Bard any second now.

Physical touch. It worked in the situation with Randall, maybe it would help now, too?

His body hissed in protest when he tried to move. Seemed like kneeling and supporting himself with his elbows was the only position he was currently capable of maintaining. His stomach spasmed in a warning, threatening with another round of vomiting.

There wasn't time to think of any more dignified plan, so Ciel turned and threw himself on Sebastian, hanging off his neck for support. Relief streamed through him when Sebastian's hands automatically wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. His mind appeared to catch up a moment later because he stopped burning Bard with his stare and gazed at Ciel instead.

"Thank you for noticing," Ciel said. Tears were still interfering with his vision, and something unpleasant was beginning to block his nose. Damn Bard. "Now control yourself. He didn't poison me."

"Of course I didn't!" Bard shouted. Ciel couldn't see his face from his position, but he noticed the almost-hysterical notes in his voice. "How could you even— it was meant to be a lesson to both of you! I'd never hurt Young Master!"

"You did," Sebastian snarled at him. His grip on Ciel immediately turned painful. "You made me do it."

There was a pause, like Bard was struggling to find the right words.

"I wasn't going to entertain your crazy plots," he muttered finally. He still sounded shaken. "And I didn't know he'd get so sick. I just made something from the nuts from his allergy list, the one you got us to memorise."

The nuts. That's what that awful smell was.

"I should tear off your limbs," Sebastian said softly. He put his chin on top of Ciel's head, as if trying to cover him from all sides. His body began to radiate its odd all-encompassing fever again, and Ciel shushed him.

"What was the point?" he asked instead. Despite his running nose, he actually began to feel better like this, wrapped in Sebastian's arms and energy. "You ruined everything. You made the game unwinnable — identifying the killer was the main goal and you just threw it away."

"Because the two of you have completely lost your minds!" Bard shouted. Ciel grimaced from the loudness. "It's not a game when you are toying with your life, and over what? Just to get Sebastian's attention back! And Sebastian is encouraging it! This isn't right! I can't be the only person to think that this isn't right!"

Ciel opened his mouth, torn between mortification and anger. He tried to turn to face Bard, but Sebastian's hold was unshakable, so after a small struggle, he gave up.

Maybe it was for the better because he didn't really know what to say. Embarrassment erased all the words his mind came up with, both defensive and offensive. He never expected to get attacked in this way — by Bard, of all people. What did he know? He saw a demon almost turn before his eyes and he still didn't think anything was wrong! Who needed advice from such a clueless, ignorant person?

Sebastian, apparently, was also too baffled to react. Almost a minute passed in silence, then Bard took an audible breath.

"You two are each other's problem," he said. He was trying to harden his voice, but Ciel still caught the fracture in it. "Sebastian, you're an adult. You are the closest thing to a family Young Master has. You should know better than to risk his life for nothing, or at all. And you, Young Master! All those insinuations you made to Lord Randall, those constant barbs against his daughter, it's not right. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Who do you think you—" Ciel started to say angrily, but Bard had the nerve to interrupt him.

"You, though, Sebastian, you should be ashamed even more because you made him this way! What you said and did to Lord Randall was ten times worse, and you did in front of Young Master, who was standing right there and soaking it all in! Don't you know how children are?"

Children?

That was it, Sebastian had Ciel's permission to do whatever he wanted to Bard.

"That's just one example!" Bard stopped for a second, drawing in a shuddering breath. "For years you've been encouraging his recklessness and teaching him violence. Someone had to put a stop to this. That's the only way I thought of."

"And what do you think you achieved by this?" Sebastian asked coldly. Coldness was better than his blinding wrath — at least he was controlling himself better now.

"You tell me," Bard huffed. "For a moment there, you thought you killed him. The next time you agree to put his life at risk, I hope you remember how it felt so that you'll think twice before doing it."

If Ciel felt less exhausted, he'd burst into laughter. Poor, naïve, stupid Bard. He had no idea what he was talking about, how many times Ciel was one breath away from death — most often because of Sebastian. Sebastian was his killer. It was predestined. So this ruined game was just a ruined game — and it certainly didn't teach them anything.

"I should fire you for undermining my orders and rendering over a week of my effort useless," he murmured instead. Another spasm twisted his stomach, but it was weaker than before. "If everything is ruined anyway, then tell me, what role did Lau get?"

Sebastian twitched, betraying his interest. He felt calmer now, but there was something about him that told Ciel it was too early to relax.

Sebastian was still furious. He might not end up murdering Bard, but he wasn't about to let it go either. The storm brewing in him shifted from being an immediate threat to a simmering, long-term one. They'd have to discuss it when they were alone because Ciel didn't know what type of revenge Sebastian would consider appropriate and whether he would sanction it.

"Lau was your ally," Bard uttered. Relief permeated his voice — he must have thought the worst part was over now. But…

"What?" Ciel exclaimed, scandalised. Sebastian let out a derisive snort right into his hair. "In what way was he helping us? All he did was talk about decorations!"

"He was giving you advice. He thought it's useful."

"Useful for whom? For designers?!"

Bard didn't reply, and Ciel growled quietly into Sebastian's neck. This game was a complete and utter failure. Why couldn't anyone just do what they were told?

"Mey-Rin was the false suspect, and you guessed everyone else."

Yes. They guessed two people each, only Ciel had a feeling that Sebastian's guesses brought him more points. On the other hand, he understood Bard's plan before Sebastian did. Did it count for anything?

Probably not. The game had been destroyed before it even began.

Sebastian, as if reading his thoughts, tilted his head suddenly.

"Why wait so long to complete your plan?" he wondered. His voice was deceptively calm. "You could have ended the game within the first several days."

Bard cleared his throat awkwardly. Ciel really wished he could turn to see his face.

"I wasn't sure I was going to do it," Bard muttered. Once again, he sounded guilty. "I kept changing my mind, but then I heard how Young Master talked to Finnie to get the answer out of him and that was the end of my rope. I had to show you that you are going too far, that some things... you just cannot do some things. You have to stop and think sometimes."

"Get out," Ciel said darkly. Disappointment and annoyance swirled in him with a new force, and if he felt stronger now, he would have gladly stood up to punch Bard in the face. He slapped Sebastian occasionally — right now, Bard deserved it even more. "Tell everyone that the game is over and they can leave my manor. Then clean everything up. Sebastian, take me to my bedroom. I want to lie down."

Sebastian murmured his agreement and picked him up. When they were passing Bard, Ciel caught a glimpse of his pale, uncertain face — he was probably second-guessing himself already, or at least regretting having given him that awful nut juice, or whatever it was.

Good. Ciel supposed he could play it up some more. Let Bard think that he'd caused more harm than he did in reality — maybe that would teach him a lesson.

Nausea reminded of itself with a vicious pull, and Ciel gritted his teeth, trying to breathe in deeply.

Or perhaps he wouldn't have to pretend at all. He couldn't recall the last time he felt this badly.

It took him two days to begin to recover. Sebastian was bringing him lemon water with honey and various herbal mixtures that tended to help, and though the smell of them quickly grew to be repellent, at least they helped soothe his angry stomach.

"Is Bard still alive?" Ciel asked when talking stopped making him want to vomit. Sebastian's lips tightened.

"He is," he said shortly. He didn't look at him when he spoke, and Ciel could guess why.

"If you are planning a retaliation, you must inform me about the details. I might want to join in."

A brief flash of surprise on Sebastian's face changed into a knowing smirk. He bent his head, giving his agreement.

When he was like this, it was easy to forget how they had even found themselves in this situation. Sebastian's hadn't commented on the quality of his soul in ages, hadn't looked at him in that insulting way again, so Ciel might have started to forget that there was a problem at all… if it wasn't for the second contract.

He had to remember it. His mind had to remember it even if his stupid heart was already willing to forget.

"I think you've won," Sebastian said suddenly. It was so unexpected that at first Ciel thought he must have misheard it. His jaw dropped open, and he stared at Sebastian in amazement, wondering if he should ask him to repeat himself.

Fortunately, he didn't have to because Sebastian shrugged, strangely nonchalant.

"You understood who the killer was before I did. It might have happened out of the boundaries of our rules, and the circumstances were atypical and unanticipated, but you made the identification. You guessed two roles at once, which means that you've won."

Ciel's eyes narrowed as he contemplated Sebastian, trying to figure out what stood behind these words.

It was unlike Sebastian to accept defeat easily. It was extremely unlike Sebastian to bring up such a topic willingly, in a situation where Ciel didn't make any attempts to claim a victory.

"So what?" he asked suspiciously when no ideas made themselves known. He didn't like the way Sebastian was looking at him — his gaze was strange, too intent for his seemingly relaxed look.

"So," Sebastian echoed, "I'm willing to honour the terms of our agreement."

…All right. So it was the second offer to reveal his true name.

Ciel's head buzzed from confusion and uncertainty. He lied back onto his pillows, shifting in a way that allowed him to see Sebastian more openly.

Was there a catch in it somewhere? Was a human who learned the name of a demon supposed to automatically die or something similar?

No, he doubted it. Sebastian still wanted him alive. Then what was he playing at?

It was tempting to find out — Ciel's blood warmed at the very idea, but reluctance was stronger. Even if Sebastian truly believed in his victory, it made no difference because Ciel didn't feel it.

He didn't think he won anything. And in the end, it was the only thing that mattered.

"Forget it," he said curtly. "This game was a complete failure and I want to put it behind us."

He wasn't sure what reaction his second refusal would cause, but Sebastian was visibly startled. He blinked, a frown slowly twisting his brows, before his face took on a strange conflicted expression.

"I'm conceding to your victory," he insisted stubbornly, squinting in a way Ciel didn't understand. "Your refusal is unnecessary and it makes no sense."

"It makes no— what's wrong with you? It's like you are trying to push your name on me. Why would I need it at all?"

It was probably not the most considerate thing to say — Sebastian straightened like Ciel insulted him, a brief flash of indignation shadowing his features.

Interesting. Another sore spot he could hit from time to time. He hadn't expected his refusal to bring this unexpected benefit.

"It's fun to win it," Ciel elaborated after a pause, "and it's fun to know something others don't, but I don't see how it would be useful to me. You already do everything I tell you to do, and when our contract ends, I'm going to pay the price I have promised. I don't intend to run away, I think we've already established that, so having your name at my disposal won't change anything."

Sebastian continued to stare like he didn't understand a thing. It was almost funny, so Ciel couldn't help but add, "And it's probably stupid anyway. Something pretentious and terribly long that I would struggle to even pronounce."

An amused smile made Sebastian's lips twitch. He lowered his gaze, as if knowing that Ciel was busy trying to read it, before shrugging ambiguously.

Almost a minute passed in silence. Ciel lost interest in watching Sebastian's silent contemplations, so he took a glass of water and made a sip.

"Do you understand why Bard did it?" he asked. "I can't say that his explanations sounded rational. Playing this game hardly differed from anything else we've been doing for years."

"I'm not certain," Sebastian crossed his hands behind his back. "Bard is a human, and humans are prone to irrational emotional reasoning. Perhaps something about this situation became the last straw for him."

"Yes, well, I don't get it, and I'm a human, too."

Sebastian looked at him for a long time, too distant for Ciel to get a good read on him.

"Sometimes," he said finally.

Somehow, this one word affected Ciel stronger than even Sebastian's repeated offer to disclose his true name. Shivers ran down his body, a startled feeling of the almost desperate triumph blossoming straight into his heart, rendering him useless for a couple of moments.

Sometimes. He was a human 'sometimes.' It was certainly a promotion after being called 'simple-minded.' But…

But why was Sebastian suddenly doing it now? Nothing had changed. Ciel had failed to show off in any spectacular way. He supposed Sebastian had done even worse — he managed to completely humiliate himself once again at the end of the game, but his stupidity didn't elevate Ciel's value. Or did it? Who knew how demon brains worked.

Based on the recent patterns in Sebastian's behaviour, he was trying to earn Ciel's regard back. That was the only thing that was clear, and it didn't tell him much. Sebastian's motivations, his sincerity — this was what truly mattered, but Ciel couldn't begin to untangle this knot of contradictions.

He was still tired. And he was not interested in resuming any kind of long-term peace with a traitor.

"I suppose you think I should take it as a compliment," he said coolly. Sebastian's eyes fixed on him like he was saying the most important things in the world. "If so, you overestimate the influence of your opinion on me. I don't care about how you see me, I only care about you being a hypocrite. Calling me simple-minded? Really? If I am that, then what does it say about you? Because I, a simple-minded human, have forced you to flee to Hell and make an idiot of yourself just by giving you a lie. I tricked you into ignoring your seal and believing I'm dying when I was anything but. This game, a failure as it was, showed that you still haven't learned your lesson. You lost your reason — again, when you thought I was poisoned — again. And you ignored the seal, too, although I'm certain it had to speak to you. All this took place in the last couple of months, and I was behind each of these events. Quite a result for a simple-minded human, isn't it?"

At a minimum, this was supposed to anger Sebastian — there were few things he hated as much as being reminded of his humiliations, but for some reason, the effect seemed to be the opposite this time. Sebastian absorbed all his words silently, tilting his head in silent contemplation. His face looked serious and focused, something Ciel had seen only when they were locked in some debate during the lessons or in the process of their investigations. It was like Sebastian wanted to listen to him, even though Ciel was all but insulting him. Like he was looking for something in his words.

Ciel didn't have anything else to say, especially not with the discomfort that was currently itching under his skin because of Sebastian's atypical behaviour. He just waited, and finally, Sebastian nodded, like he came to some incredibly relevant conclusion.

"You are right," he said solemnly. Ciel frowned in suspicion. "I meant what I have said before. You may refuse from the prize, but the victory is yours."

Now he was really overdoing it.

"What exactly are you playing at here?" Ciel grunted, crossing his hands against his chest, feeling oddly and unacceptably vulnerable.

Sebastian didn't give away praise all that often. That he was insisting on doing it now, after everything, and in such a determined way… It was affecting Ciel's armour, hitting it from an unexpected angle. He had been hardening himself to face Sebastian's coldness and scorn, not to tolerate these emotional mind games.

To his stupor, Sebastian seemed far from finished. He approached the bed and lowered himself to one knee, bending his head respectfully.

"You have told me to understand who I am if I am not a butler," Sebastian said. "I'm not certain about the answer. I have been searching for it almost for as long as I've been alive, in a way you would never be able to comprehend. But here and now? I am yours. And as long as it is so, I do not need to look for anything else."

All thoughts and concerns fled from Ciel's mind. He stared at Sebastian in silent shock, his lips parting to let out a sharp breath. Everything stopped — the world itself seemed to tilt on its axis. His emotions, so beaten down and erratic, were quickly rearranging themselves, turning into something new and frightening.

Sebastian looked at him, still kneeling, and a violent jerk nearly pulled Ciel's heart right out of his chest. Blood began to pound in his temples, something strange buzzed in his ears, and the electricity kept accumulating, getting hotter, growing more and more intense.

He didn't know where this was going and what would happen, but Sebastian suddenly turned away. His attention snapped to the window, as if he'd heard something unusual from the outside.

Whatever it was, he didn't move. Slowly, he looked back at Ciel again, and there was a baffling decisiveness on his face.

"If you refuse to learn my name when it is willingly offered, there is something else I could do for you," he said evenly. "I believe my blood will be able to speed up your process of recovery. Would you like to repeat that experience?"

His blood?

Ciel had never felt so off balance before. Sebastian shocked him, then shocked him again, and then again, without giving him any time to adjust and make sense of it. Too many blows in too little time — or maybe not blows, but something opposite of them.

Ciel would have readily given away one of the few remaining years of his life to know what the hell had been taking place in Sebastian's head to suddenly push him to this devoted, reverent behaviour.

If it was real, if it wasn't some game… and Sebastian was offering his blood to him, so this couldn't be it… then he really had won. Only not in the way he'd expected, not even in the game he had planned for this very purpose. Somehow, it all happened outside of it, and Ciel had no idea how he did it.

But he wasn't going to refuse this time. This prize, he would take.

"All right," he said carefully. "I wouldn't mind getting stronger sooner."

Sebastian smiled at him. This smile was dark, a little disturbing — it had implications that Ciel didn't understand. But then he understood so little these days.

Without saying a word, Sebastian shifted closer to him, climbing onto the edge of his bed and wrapping a hand around his back. Then he pulled him closer, moving him so that Ciel would be pushed against his chest, not even bothering to ask the permission.

One of Sebastian's arms slid in front of Ciel's stomach from behind, pressing against it and staying there like a chain holding him still. He took off the glove from his other hand with his teeth; a soft sound followed, and then Sebastian pressed his wrist to Ciel's lips.

It was a strange triple hold — one of Sebastian's arms was wrapped around Ciel's stomach, another one was pressed against his mouth, giving him access to a blood, and Sebastian himself leaned forwards, putting his chin on Ciel's shoulder to watch him. The warmth of this possessive display would have made Ciel bristle just a few minutes ago, when he was ready to reject every apology Sebastian offered, but now, it made his head spin. Or was it the blood?

Like the last time, he felt instantly dizzy. The strange rich taste made him feel full very quickly, but his body nearly howled with its greedy desire for more.

The blood was hot. Nearly scorching his tongue. He hadn't made it up then — it was alive. It was like drinking something that was supposed to be eternal, reaching far beyond what was supposed to be allowed to him.

Ciel lost the count of time. When he came to himself, Sebastian was letting him go, carefully returning him to his initial position in the pillows and adjusting his body so boldly, like Ciel was a doll and Sebastian was his owner.

To his luck, Ciel felt too disconnected from the real world to care about it. He blinked owlishly, his gaze daring across the room, staring at everything around him in awe.

It was different. It looked so much clearer, so impossibly vivid. He could see the specks of dust dancing at the farthest corners, leading their own peaceful life. He could distinguish the blue in the things he always considered black. And Sebastian…

Once Ciel looked at him, he could no longer gaze away.

Sebastian was… different. A human, but only barely. His features were ridiculously perfect, flawless to the point of being completely unnatural. And they were flickering, fading enough to reveal something much darker, something frightening. Or not. Because Ciel wasn't scared.

Sebastian was beautiful. Even more so like this. The glowing embers that served as his eyes, the sharp angles of his face and his body, the abnormally wide mouth that was slightly open, revealing the endless rows of fangs.

For a moment, Ciel regretted that he was unable to draw. This moment deserved to be captured… if not in a portrait, than on camera. But what camera would see what he was seeing? Talbot's? It was gone. Somewhere. Probably.

"Rest now," Sebastian said softly. He brushed a strand of Ciel's hair off his face, and Ciel stared at how the energy clinging to Sebastian's bones moved restlessly, trying to lick him. It subsided only after Sebastian pulled away.

He took something out of his pocket and placed on the bedside table. Ciel didn't want to look at it at first, too fascinated with Sebastian to see anything else, but the strange movement drew his attention.

It was a sheep. The same black sheep Sebastian had given him and then stolen away. Only… there was something odd about it. It was alive, or at least some part of it. Ciel could see the flickers of energy entwining and flaring with blackness every now and then, threatening to melt into something shapeless but always returning to hold the form of the sheep at the last moment.

He found it so captivating that he was reluctant to change his focus even when he heard Sebastian's sudden inhale. Still, Sebastian was probably more interesting than the sheep, so Ciel turned to him with some reluctance.

It was difficult to say what happened. Sebastian was staring at him — it was nothing new, but his eyes were glowing with the fervency that hadn't been there a few moments ago. A blissful smile froze on his dangerous mouth, and even the energy he was made of seemed to flare with atypical brightness.

"What," Ciel tried to ask. He didn't know how well he managed to do it, but somehow, Sebastian understood. He always did.

"I can see your soul," he said quietly. "Gremory has taken the spell off."

Oh. That was good. No more looks of disgust at…

Wait. Gremory?

Something about this was unusual. It was too bad that Ciel's mind was drunk to the point of incoherence.

Gremory. Who was it? Sebastian's acquaintance from hell? The other demon? It had to be.

But then, was Sebastian supposed to tell him this demon's true name?

He didn't look regretful. On the contrary, he continued to gaze at Ciel softly, his energy glistening with so many shades that Ciel could only call it enamoured.

Gremory.

Mistake or not, he had the name. Not the name he wanted, but maybe the more important one. Because he wasn't going to use Sebastian's against him… but he was more than eager to use Gremory's.

He just had to find out how to do it.

Replies:

Aleta Wolff, no worries, Sebastian will always pay for whatever setbacks he suffers :D They take regular steps back in their relationship, but then the progress is equally inevitable.

A.S. Oswald, right? Such a lovely demon hypocrite))

xoxo-No Name-xoxo, ah, I can relate to reading fiction in company and then giggling or blushing uncontrollably :D Always gets me in public places. And yes, you're right, Sebastian could have distanced himself from Ciel, but even when given freedom, he chooses to shadow him. Ciel is in his blood no matter how hard he resists this notion at times. And yes, I do plan to cover Public School arc now that it'll be turned into anime! I was contemplating doing it as it was because it's a favourite, but now I'm set on it. Unless it somehow ends up being horrible and illogical, though I don't see it happening.

InkAndShadow, thank you, I love their minds games as well! I hope you've enjoyed this final game arc.