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].

24. Opposite Side of Boredom Part 2

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Opposite Side of Boredom. Part Two

Undertaker,

Considering the nature of our cooperation, I thought you might be interested in getting payment for your future services in advance. I will be hosting a game in my manor that I am sure you will find greatly entertaining. Even better, you will have a chance to participate in it personally.

My servant will disclose the remaining details.

Regards,

C. P.

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Lau,

I demand your presence at my manor for the next week. Take Ran Mao with you, I will make the arrangements. Your last attempt at being useful was pitiful at best, so this is your chance to remind me of why I chose you as my contact.

A game with multiple participants will take place. Your task will be to assume one of the roles and to dedicate yourself to it wholeheartedly. Ran Mao will receive hers as well.

My servant will elaborate on the details.

Regards.

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Dear Lord Randall,

I am most pleased to inform you that my injuries are healing well. My butler was deeply aggrieved at the fact of their presence and the circumstances in which I sustained them, but with some effort, I convinced him to let this matter be.

I am certain you are anxious to find a way to make amends for this unfortunate incident. Worry not, I have discovered a solution that is sure to satisfy everyone! I will be hosting a secret game in my manor, a masquerade of a sort. You will receive a role that you will have to perform for the duration of your stay with us. My servant — the other one, so don't worry — will explain everything in more detail.

I eagerly await your visit. I'm aware of the difficulties you might face in having to change your accommodations so abruptly, so you are more than welcome to take your daughter with you. I am certain I will be able to find a suitable place for her.

If you need any other assistance, please let me know.

Yours heartily and affectionately,

Earl Ciel Phantomhive,

Her Majesty's most loyal servant

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To Ciel's lack of surprise, everyone gave Bard their agreement to join the game. Predictably, Lau and Undertaker were thrilled, and Randall had apparently gotten so red in the face that his brain stopped functioning. He kept spluttering and rambling some incoherent threats, protests, and curses, and Bard had to spend almost forty minutes in his house to calm him down and persuade him to accept Ciel's conditions.

"There was just one problem," Bard added, rubbing his hands awkwardly. "Lord Randall insisted on picking his own role from the list you prepared.

"He did?" Ciel perked up. This was intriguing. Knowing Randall and his attitude, he would be able to narrow down the choice of options.

On the other hand, Sebastian would have to be informed about it as well, so they would both have the same advantage.

A brief flash of annoyance hissed to life, and Ciel stifled it quickly.

It didn't matter. He would win regardless of this or any other facts. To lose meant to prove Sebastian right, and it was not an option. It just wasn't.

"I wish you hadn't involved Lord Randall into this game, Young Master," Bard said. He still wore a strange expression, and Ciel had to swallow a weary sigh. He was not in the mood to deal with yet another flood of protests.

"I thought we discussed it before," he replie d. His voice had a cold edge of warning, but this time, Bard didn't seem to be affected by it.

"We did," he agreed stubbornly, "but I wanted to mention it once again. Lord Randall is a dangerous man. Making an enemy out of him… it's not a good decision, and if he wasn't your enemy before, he is one now. I don't know what you wrote in your letter but it enraged him so much that if you were there, he would have probably tried to shoot you."

Ciel couldn't help rolling his eyes at this.

"Yes," he drawled, "and that's precisely the reason why I wasn't there. Making enemies out of dangerous men is my job. I understand how to predict danger and how to neutralise a possible threat because I know these men and I know how they are going to respond to my actions. Do you know why Randall hates me?"

Bard frowned. He seemed to give it some thought, but in the end, he just shook his head.

"He hates me because he knows he can't win," Ciel sank deeper into his comfortable armchair, smiling as his mind conjured the image of Randall's furious face and his bulging eyes. "I outrank him significantly. I am closer to Her Majesty. I am often called to solve cases he is unable to complete, and despite all his effort, he hasn't managed to find any leverage against me. I, on the other hand, have acquired quite a set. He is destined to lose no matter how many battles he initiates, and I'm going to be there every time, watching him fall."

Something jolted through Ciel when another pair of eyes surfaced in his mind. Condescending, cold, inhuman. His mood darkened, and his voice reflected it when he added, "I will watch Sebastian fall, too. Very soon. And Randall is going to be one of several stepping stones that will bring me my victory."

When he looked at Bard again, he saw that his disturbed expression intensified. He looked almost uncomfortable now, and Ciel huffed in exasperation.

"You can go," he ordered. Sometimes he forgot that he had to show a modicum of restraint when talking to actual humans. Sebastian had ruined that for him. "Oh, and did you inform everyone of how Sebastian is to be called?"

Interestingly, this change of topic seemed to breathe enthusiasm into Bard. He straightened, and a familiar grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"I did," he confirmed. "Mister Lau and Undertaker took it surprisingly well. I don't pretend I understand the first thing about these two— gentlemen, but I think they were eager to get a chance to call Sebastian a demon. Lord Randall was of course angry. He called you a blasphemer and some other… interesting insults that I couldn't possibly repeat. Finnie and Mey-Rin are horrified but excited. Sebastian is a true demon sometimes, in the kitchen especially, we all keep saying it, and now to say it to his face…" Bard's grin widened, and he quickly masked his laughter with a cough.

Slowly, Ciel smiled back at him.

"Yes," he agreed, his voice so soft that it hid the darkness he could feel enveloping him from inside. "He acts like a demon sometimes. And he deserves to be treated as such."

Bard lost his grin. A more sombre look spread across his features.

"Yeah," he murmured. Ciel waved his hand, permitting him to leave, and when he was alone, he tapped his fingers against his table.

The players would move in tomorrow. That meant that he and Sebastian had to have one final discussion where they would cement the rules for the last time.

Ciel's heart made a little uneven jump at the thought of what awaited him, but he ignored it, biting his lips harder.

He would need to do more than win. He would have to turn this victory into something spectacular, like he had before. But how? What could he use to trample Sebastian into dirt as thoroughly as he himself had been trampled?

This uncertainty haunted him. The ideal scenario would be if he made all the correct guesses while Sebastian failed at each identification, but it was extremely unlikely. Of course, Ciel could always get the correct answers out of Bard, but no matter how childishly tempting this idea was, he refused to seriously consider it.

He needed to score a real victory, not an empty one. He needed to prove it to Sebastian and to himself that he was right. Sebastian was too obsessed with the idea of a soul to think critically and to distinguish humans based on their other features — this had to change.

Hopefully, the idea would come to him after the game started. Otherwise, everything would be in vain.

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Their conversation took place in the evening, after Sebastian entered his bedroom to help him to undress. The chill between them was palpable, which was why Ciel was surprised at how carefully Sebastian removed his eye-patch. His touch was almost gentle, and then he brushed a strand of hair from Ciel's face, not once but twice.

"Your hair has gotten long," he said. It was a simple phrase, but the voice in which he said it was filled with such charmed contemplation that Ciel blinked, too taken aback to react immediately.

Normally, he would be pleased. He might even feel flustered because Sebastian's admiration always felt like the highest form of praise any human could strive to obtain. Now, though, too many parts of him were shrivelled in hurt, the damage immortalised by cold anger that never stopped burning.

He craved Sebastian's destruction. There wasn't a thing he wouldn't sacrifice to achieve it. Hatred was what had kept him going before and it was helping him to function now, so Sebastian's unexpected departure from their new rules was disturbing — and highly unwelcome.

"Did you memorise the roles?" Ciel asked instead, raising his chin and waiting for Sebastian to unbutton his jacket.

"I did." Sebastian, to his growing frustration, still seemed fascinated with his hair. He pulled at one of the strands lightly, straightening it and pressing it against the middle of Ciel's neck, as if measuring its length. The brush of the gloved finger against his bare skin sent an array of shivers down his body, and Ciel slapped Sebastian's hand away, narrowing his eyes in a warning.

"Don't touch me without a need for it, demon," he uttered.

The sparkle that had warmed Sebastian's eyes vanished. He withdrew his hand, his lips shifting in a grimace.

Ah, so he was already annoyed with his new name. Even though this name denoted who he was in the most literal of senses. How unfortunate, especially since it was only the beginning.

"I don't need any reminders regarding this new game," Sebastian said coolly. He proceeded to help him out of his jacket, carefully avoiding any unnecessary touches. "You and I will be guessing everyone's roles. One of the eight players will be covertly assisting us. One will be a hindrance set on ruining the game for everyone. Two will be the wrong suspects, determined to act suspiciously without having any deeper motivations; one will be a spy who can behave in accordance with their secret plans and intentions; one will be a fool, only there to attract attention; one will be a killer who will attempt to kill you, and the remaining person will be helping them."

"Correct," Ciel said. He allowed Sebastian to put a long undershirt on him and shook his head, trying to get rid of the annoying bangs that kept falling into his eyes. Sebastian was right, he needed a haircut. "Bard assigned the roles to everyone but Randall. Randall insisted on choosing his own role from the list."

Sebastian's eyes lingered on Ciel's hair, and Ciel had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, what was so special about his abysmal hairstyle that Sebastian couldn't stop staring?

"Is that wise?" Sebastian asked. Since it was so belated, Ciel raised his eyebrows, prompting him to explain further. "Lord Randall choosing his role. Knowing his antagonistic attitude to you and the fact that you have obviously blackmailed him into participating—"

"We don't know how many roles remained in the list by the time Randall chose his," Ciel interrupted him. "And if you think he is predictable, I invite you to think again. Randall could have selected any of these roles, and we'll be able to start guessing only after we see him embrace it."

"'We'?" Sebastian repeated. Contrary to the almost-soft gazes he kept throwing at him for some reason, a nasty note twisted his voice. "I had the impression that we are rivals in this game. How are 'we' supposed to do anything together in it?"

"What is the fun if I'm doing my guessing and you're doing your guessing? We will compete, yes, and we will arrive at our unique answers, but you and I will be sharing every bit of reasoning that led us to them to justify them. In short…" Ciel gave Sebastian a highly unpleasant smile. "You will see why you are an idiot in all the glory of this inevitable realisation. Because I already know what your reasons and arguments are going to be, and like I told you before, you will fail. Demon."

The room got noticeably colder. Sebastian pressed his lips together, and while he managed to appear impassive, the shadows that flickered across the wall betrayed the extent of his dissatisfaction.

"What will determine the victory?" he inquired coldly. Ciel stretched in his bed, waiting for Sebastian to cover him with his warm blanket.

"The number of points we'll receive for each role we identify correctly," he told him. "This is to avoid the possibility of a draw. Neither you nor I will know what role comes with how many points — Bard will inform us about it at the end of the game."

"So either way, one of us is going to win?"

"Yes. And like I said, it's going to be me. Your complete lack of comprehension about what makes humans who they are will ensure it."

Sebastian threw the blanket on him in a manner that Ciel would classify as unacceptably disrespectful if he wasn't already anticipating it.

"Humans are prone to delusions," Sebastian responded darkly. His eyes were distant and hostile again, and Ciel felt more ready to welcome this new reality than the odd affection from before. "If repeating this entertains you, you can continue to do it, but this won't change the outcome. Humans don't understand one another precisely because they are blind and unable to see each other's souls. In this game, you will try to rely on logic and psychology. But I will rely on these people's essence. There is no comparison between which method is going to be more effective."

"But their roles won't reflect their essence," Ciel said. A feeling of triumph was stirring in his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was too early to celebrate, even if Sebastian was already falling into the trap.

Whether Sebastian sensed it in him or not, he remained unbothered.

"According to your rules, the players will commit to these roles," he noted dispassionately. "They all agreed to do it — it means that each of them is capable of what their role demands of them. If someone who has never murdered anyone before received the role of a killer, then their soul has always been predisposed to it, and I will see it shortly after I start observing them. Most of the people you invited are killers already, but they will experience differing degrees of reluctance or excitement at having to kill you. I will see this, too. I will see everything, and you should consider yourself fortunate if the game lasts for more than three days."

"You will see everything," Ciel echoed softly. Triumph, disgust, and anger clashed in a fight for dominance, and he didn't interfere, wishing for the strongest of them to win. "I assume you will see the stupidity of a fool, even though none of the players are particularly stupid? You will see through the bluff of the would-be killers? You will determine who wants to help us and who plans to assist the killer? How exactly do you imagine a soul can reflect all these nuances?"

For a moment, an expression of uncertainty crossed Sebastian's face. It disappeared quickly, but Ciel caught it, and it was enough to give the final nudge to the triumph. It won in its fight, spreading through his chest in a flood of bright, sparkling heat.

As he thought, the soul of a human wasn't as transparent as Sebastian had been trying to make it look. The mind and the heart mattered, too, and the three of them could forge three completely different paths, resulting in three completely different existences and personalities.

He would win. He just knew it,

"Be sure to hide Pluto tomorrow," he added dismissively, turning to the side and closing his eyes. "I don't want him seen until the game is over."

Sebastian muttered something that was hardly coherent speech and blew out the candle. A door opened, then closed, and Ciel relaxed further.

Now, he needed to sleep. He had to be alert when the players gathered in the morning.

Tomorrow was going to be an important day, and he wasn't planning to let anything jeopardise it.

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Ciel woke up much earlier than usual to add the finishing touches to his game. Using the fact that Sebastian was downstairs, busy monitoring the servants, he walked through the rooms and scattered various inconspicuous things around them.

Bottles with poisons and other odd chemical substances he found in Bard's not-so-secret stash; several ancient small but sharp blades; a trail of seemingly important documents detailing his investigations that gradually led to his office. Two fake daggers and a creepy music box that Elisabeth had given him as a gift many years ago.

About a month ago, contrary to Sebastian's scepticism, he'd managed to develop the ink that appeared only under direct sunlight for the new Funtom products. With some modifications, he received a substance that could make this ink visible, too: all he had to do was to cover his hands with it and initiate contact. So Ciel spread the ink of different colours across every object, carefully putting them into their new locations.

Not all of the guests would take the bait; some of them might do it by accident, but at least one or two would expose themselves. They wouldn't be able to resist. A spy would definitely show interest in those documents, having no idea they comprised pure nonsense Ciel came up with specifically for this game. They would try to gather as many of these papers as possible — one handshake, and Ciel would notice the green ink on a person who came into contact with them.

A killer would jump on the chance to take the poisons or the blades, depending on who got the role. Yellow ink would betray their interest.

A fake suspect would likely try to imitate a killer, and they would like the idea of hiding a fake dagger, hoping to confuse Ciel and Sebastian and push them onto the wrong path.

Even if Sebastian noticed what was going on, even if he realised what Ciel was doing, he would be unable to tell which colour of the ink marked what role. Ciel alone had this knowledge, and this pushed him closer to victory.

Satisfied with his effort, Ciel went back to his bedroom. There was one last thing he had to do, and he would do it shortly before the arrival of their guests. This way, it would have a more significant impact.

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The arrival of everyone was timed to happen simultaneously, so at nine o'clock sharp, Ciel was standing in the hall, waiting with Sebastian by his side.

"I forgot to tell you about one addition to the rules," he said, his gaze fixed firmly on the door. Even without looking, he could tell that Sebastian tensed.

"Indeed?" he asked flatly. "Did you decide to pretend to be blind again? Somehow, I do not think it will work on these particular players."

"Yes, I do not think it will," Ciel agreed. "This change actually isn't related to me at all. It's about you."

His skin heated from the force of Sebastian's growing tension. Undoubtedly, he was trying to figure out what else Ciel might ask of him, painting more and more horrific images in his mind. Maybe the truth would soothe his obvious apprehension for a change.

"I asked Tanaka to shoulder the majority of your butler responsibilities," Ciel explained. "So that you could focus on the game instead of spending your time on trivial matters. For the next week or so, the only thing required of you will be to attend to my most urgent needs. Bard will cook, and the cleaning, serving, as well as catering to our guests' requests will be Tanaka's job."

Sebastian turned his head to watch him. This time, Ciel met his suspicious stare, letting his lips form an innocent smile. Thanks to this, he could see the exact moment in which Sebastian figured it out: his eyes flashed, and a shadow of annoyance darkened his face.

"Taking away my advantages before the game unfolds?" he murmured. His mouth twitched unpleasantly. "Are you feeling insecure, my lord?"

Ciel widened his eyes in fake astonishment.

"What advantages?" he asked, putting the notes of hurt into his voice. "On the contrary, I wanted us to play on more equal terms. It's not fair if your duties keep distracting you while I have the free reign to observe and interact with our players."

It looked like for a second, Sebastian bought his act. He frowned, as if wondering if his accusation was unjustified, but then something else dawned on him because he scoffed.

"And the fact that now I will be unable to enter their rooms and handle their clothes hasn't factored in your planning at all? I apologise, my lord, I find it hard to believe."

"Well, it's not like you were planning to investigate them in the human way," Ciel pointed out. He allowed the look of wide-eyed innocence to fade away, displaying the first real traces of his cold amusement instead. "You intend to observe their souls and make your conclusions on this basis. Isn't this what you have told me? So I'm certain that losing the opportunity to clean their rooms or things won't affect your chances."

Sebastian looked like he wanted to say something, but he must have changed his mind at the last second. With a sneer, he faced away from him, resuming watching the door.

"Are you aware of the fact that each of our four servants is involved in this game of yours?" he asked. "Your rules forbid me to use my powers for anything other than the things I can't control. If neither you nor I can see what the servants are doing in the kitchen, we'll be handing the killer and their helper the direct means of harming you."

"Of killing me," Ciel corrected him. "And since I came up with these roles, of course I'm aware of it. That's the whole point. If one of them is a killer and you want to win your requested prize, you need to identify them before they poison me or seal me in the refrigerator or trap me in some explosion."

"Is that what happened the other day?" Sebastian turned to him again, the look on his face even darker now. "Did Bard trap you in the kitchen with one of his explosive toys?"

Ciel blinked, trying to process this question. At first, he couldn't understand what Sebastian meant, and when he remembered about his little scratch, he snorted with incredulous laughter.

"Yes, Bard decided to try his hand at killing me before learning about the game," he said. Sarcasm was heavy in his voice, but Sebastian actually looked like he believed him. What a fool.

The noise from outside the manor grabbed his attention. Forgetting all about Sebastian, Ciel leaned on his cane, calculating the minutes it would take for everyone to gather and for Tanaka to lead them inside.

He couldn't wait.

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Lau was the first one to enter, followed closely by Ran-Mao and Undertaker. Randall came in the last, clutching a beige bag in his hands. He appeared to be almost yellow in colour, and Ciel put on a pleasant smile.

"Welcome," he said, offering his hand to Lau, then to Undertaker. It was better to start the handshaking ritual early to arouse fewer suspicions when he began to actively watch for the ink.

He could sense Sebastian's bewildered gaze, but he paid it no mind. Touching the back of Ran-Mao's hand briefly, Ciel stopped before Randall.

"I am very pleased to welcome you to my home," he said earnestly. Randall just glowered, not moving to shake his hand, so Ciel had to reach for it by himself. He wouldn't be taking 'no' for an answer, not until the game ended.

"What a lovely place you have here, Earl Phantomhive!" Lau exclaimed. "Such a big manor. How many rooms have you got?"

"You've been here on more than one occasion," Ciel said dryly. Perhaps including a fool into the list of roles wasn't a smart idea. Lau pretended to be an idiot all the time, so it would be difficult to say if he was doing it on some new level or if he was just staying true to himself.

"I haven't," Undertaker interjected, cheerful as ever. "Now, I was promised breakfast? Was I the only one?"

"Tanaka will show you to your rooms. You will have a chance to unpack there, and then please come downstairs. The breakfast will be served by then."

"Good, good," a wide, sharp grin emerged on the Undertaker's lips. It was difficult to see something under his bangs, but Ciel had a feeling he was being subjected to a long, attentive stare. He tilted his head curiously, but Undertaker seemed to lose interest in him. He turned to Lau instead, his voice going even higher when he exclaimed, "Why, I don't believe I have met you before! Who might you be?"

"We've met in the carriage on the way here," Lau replied pleasantly. He also glanced at Ciel, as if conveying something meaningful to him. "It was quite an unforgettable meeting, if you ask me. Perhaps if I were to remind you of what you said—"

"Clowns," Randall growled in disgust, "all of you!"

Ran-Mao remained inexpressive, just observing everyone with a dispassionate look.

Happy with how things were progressing, Ciel gestured at the stairs.

"Tanaka," he said. With a bow, Tanaka began to lead everyone to their rooms. Bard, Finnie, and Mey-Rin didn't make an appearance yet, which left only Ciel and Sebastian.

"You are very quiet," Ciel drawled. If some part of him wasn't perpetually attuned to where Sebastian was standing and what he was doing, he might have forgotten about his existence entirely. "Did looking at their souls steal your speech? Perhaps you have already figured their roles out?"

He didn't doubt that the answer would be negative, and just like he expected, Sebastian stayed silent. He wore a strangely guarded look, examining Ciel like he was a stranger in a familiar shape.

"What is my role in this?" he asked finally. The icy contempt that Ciel had become used to lately was no longer present in his voice. "If I am not to fulfil my responsibilities as a butler and you haven't assigned any other duties to me, what am I to do? I cannot simply trail after everyone for no reason, this would damage the authenticity you want to create."

"I don't know," Ciel said. "It is a question that you need to answer for yourself. If you are not a butler, who are you?"

Sebastian stared at him silently. Different emotions flickered on his face, none of them pleasant.

"Figure it out," Ciel told him. Losing interest, he walked to the dining room to take his seat. His head was already spinning with ideas, but he forced himself to wait.

It was too early to determine anything. He had to give it at least a day before drawing preliminary conclusions.

And there were servants, too, of course.

He would need to find a way to interact with them more often for the next few days.

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Fifteen minutes later, all the guests gathered in the dining room. Tanaka was serving them one by one; Ran-Mao was watching Lau, who was exchanging some disgustingly enamoured smiles with the Undertaker. He also wouldn't stop talking.

"Lovely room you have prepared for me, Earl," he said, sending an overly fond look the Undertaker's way. "Though if I may note, those purple curtains don't really suit the velvet carpet. If you ever plan to renovate…"

"Velvet carpet?" Ciel repeated. He wasn't well-versed in fabrics, but he was almost certain that his family never owned anything like that. Did such a thing even exist? "I don't think we'd be inviting you for a renovation."

Lau let out a mournful sigh.

"Your loss," he murmured. Undertaker used the pause that followed to twirl an empty plate on his finger.

"May I pick my own room, please?" he asked petulantly. "Mine does not meet my standards."

Exasperation stirred inside, and Ciel had to stifle it. It was difficult to say if these two were annoying him for the sake of it or if they were just playing their roles.

"What are your standards?" he asked, and Undertaker released a dramatic sigh.

"I'd like to live in a place of smiles," he drawled, wistfulness extending each syllable. "Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heathen whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a room."

Ciel stared at him, flabbergasted. Sebastian suddenly burst into laughter, and it was so unexpected that Ciel almost jumped in his chair. Undertaker looked at him, and then he exchanged a knowing glance with Sebastian.

All right. He was certainly missing something. Lau seemed clueless — he kept staring at Undertaker like he'd hung the moon and the stars. Ran-Mao continued to be uninterested while Randall was staring at his plate like he wished to be anywhere but here.

Sebastian was the only person who definitely understood the gibberish Undertaken had spoken. And it was concerning. A bubble of worry popped up in his chest, and Ciel cleared his throat, hoping to resume control over the situation.

"You are free to choose whatever room you would like," he said. Normally, he would have found such a request offensive, but this time, it could bring its fruits. Perhaps Undertaker would choose a particular room that would reveal something about the role he'd received.

"How fantastic!" Lau cried out. "Can I choose my own room, too?"

Ciel glared at him.

"No."

"Ah, well," Lau shrugged, poking at his meal with a pout. "I guess mine will have to do."

"What is the demon doing here?" Ran-Mao suddenly asked.

For a moment, Ciel's heart stopped. But when no one acted surprised, a belated realisation came to the rescue.

He'd forbidden everyone to use Sebastian's name. Of course.

"Yes, demon. What are you doing here?" he raised his eyebrows, looking at Sebastian expectantly.

All the mirth vanished from Sebastian's face. He shifted almost awkwardly, the same lost expression briefly shadowing his features. Apparently, as a non-butler, he still hadn't thought of a good excuse to justify his presence here. His gaze slipped from one face to another before stopping at Ciel, lingering there.

"I am… a guardian," he said with only a slight stumble.

"A guardian," Ciel repeated. He sounded unimpressed, and the way Sebastian tensed, the way the energy around him coiled defensively ignited a fire of malicious pleasure in his gut. "What are you guarding? The dining room? The food?"

Undertaker giggled. Lau muttered something to Ran-Mao, but Ciel didn't dare to look away from Sebastian, drinking in every flash and twist of humiliated awkwardness he could detect.

It was obvious to him that Sebastian was at a loss for words. Every answer he considered was something Ciel was actively planning to counter to humiliate him further, and he knew it — he had to know it.

The pause got too long, so Sebastian must have chosen a more predictable humiliation by silence than the insecurity of giving a response and watching Ciel tear it to pieces.

Very well. He would work with what he had.

"So the demon doesn't know what it's guarding," he drawled, raising his chin to underline the degree of his derision. "That's highly irregular. Perhaps it's broken. Rendered useless by someone's hand. Lord Randall?" Ciel turned to Randall, a small smile still playing on his lips. "Would you be willing to investigate this case? I don't take kindly to someone damaging my property, even if that property is a mere demon. Maybe you could find the guilty party and help this creature to find its purpose?"

"Blasphemer!" Randall muttered under his nose. Giving a frozen Sebastian the last look, Ciel turned his whole attention to him.

"How is your family doing?" he asked innocently. "Are they well?"

Randall went pale just as Lau leaned forwards, forgetting all about his food.

"I didn't know you had a family, Commissioner!" he exclaimed. "Will you introduce us?"

For a single second, everything was perfect. Sebastian continued to stand like a statue, looking shell-shocked and still unable to speak; Randall was clearly on the verge of suffocating, and Ciel could feel the thick, honeyed taste of triumph in his mouth… but Tanaka chose that moment to enter the room with a tray, and his presence broke the oppressive atmosphere. Most people turned their heads to watch him, losing the thread of the would-be discussion. It was so disappointing that Ciel had to fight the instinct to glare at him.

Tanaka placed a cup of tea before Lau. A tremor shook through him at the last moment, and some of the tea splashed across the table. No one paid it any mind — Lau only moved away a little, but Ciel narrowed his eyes in contemplation.

Interesting.

Tanaka left, and Lau started some inane conversation with Undertaker. Ran-Mao and Randall focused on their food, so Ciel felt comfortable enough to throw another glance at Sebastian.

It seemed like Sebastian hadn't fully recovered. He continued to stand near the wall like a shadow, but somehow, he seemed smaller than he was in reality. Having no task to do and no good reason to be here, disconnected and ignored, he appeared to be absolutely miserable, and Ciel absorbed this healing sight for a while.

"Isn't it funny?" he muttered under his breath, so quietly that he knew only Sebastian could hear him. "A demon that feels out of place. Separated from everyone by a chasm he can't hope to bridge because he belongs to an entirely different species. I wonder how many other demons were in such lowly positions. Feeling inferior to humans."

Undertaker threw a quick glance at him, and Ciel frowned. He couldn't have possibly heard him.

Sebastian had. He stared at him with dark, dark eyes, neither angry nor hurt, just grave. Like he was considering a new perspective he had never thought of before.

Stupid demon. This was just the beginning.

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Ciel hoped that Undertaker would choose some special room that would offer a hint regarding his role, but to his confusion, the choice stopped at the bedroom that once belonged to his grandmother. Tanaka moved the Undertaker's things there, getting it wrong the first time and entering Randall's room instead. The angry shouting could be heard through the entire manor, and Ciel made another mental note of this.

Unfortunately, that was the end of his productivity. For the rest of the day, his observations brought no coherent insights. Undertaker stayed in his new room, refusing to attend dinner and supper; Ran-Mao shadowed Lau without saying a word; Lau kept commenting on the furnishing of the rooms while Randall stayed quiet, watching everyone and everything from under his glasses.

Finnie interrupted their dinner by barging in and rambling about a flower he'd managed to grow. In his bubbling excitement, he seemed to notice the guests only after finishing his tale, and then he looked genuinely confused and flustered. Ciel didn't know what to make of this reaction, and judging from Sebastian's puzzled frown, he had no idea either.

Mey-Rin served the wine, smiling a mysterious, cynical smile that Ciel had never seen on her before, and Bard made a single appearance to say something to Sebastian. He didn't look at Ciel once.

Maybe this game was a little more complicated than he'd first imagined.

Late in the evening, after everyone retired, Ciel entered his office. Like he thought, there was a knock on his door just a moment later.

"Come in," he allowed.

Sebastian walked inside. At Ciel's nod, he took a seat on the opposite side of the table. With how stiff and formal he was acting, he clearly couldn't get over his earlier humiliation.

He should be lucky that Ciel had mostly left him alone for the duration of the day. This was something he intended to remedy tomorrow.

"Since out of the two of us, you're the one convinced that you can win the game in a day or two, I propose that you share your observations. How many roles have you identified?"

Sebastian pursed his lips, and Ciel's heart soared.

He'd asked the perfect question. Even if Sebastian managed to identify someone, now he would feel insecure to admit it because the answer would clearly fall short of his initial expectations.

It was just like Ciel thought: the souls didn't provide any sufficient information. Sebastian's best weapon failed. He was clueless, and this cluelessness was devouring him from inside.

"I see," Ciel drawled. Sebastian visibly bristled at the sound of his unimpressed voice.

"Everyone is on guard during the first day," he said defensively. "The second day is when most conclusions will be drawn."

"Is it?" Ciel propped his chin on his hand, delighted by this turn of conversation. Sebastian just couldn't stop backing himself into a corner. "Then you will have won by tomorrow night?"

His delight deepened when Sebastian didn't risk replying immediately.

"Most of the roles you devised are superficial," Sebastian uttered at last. "It is challenging to immediately differentiate between the souls when a lot of them hold a minor role."

There was a smooth confidence in his voice that Ciel would have been tempted to believe — if he didn't remember every discussion he had with Sebastian with a vivid, startling clarity.

"But this is not what you said before," he noted silkily. Sebastian pressed his lips together again. He must have hoped that Ciel would have forgotten all about his words. As if. "You said, 'Whether the roles they'll be assigned will be those of criminals, gardeners, or adulterers, I will see through it quickly. There is no chance for any other outcome.' Are you telling me this was a lie?"

Sebastian stayed silent, but a tick in his jaw betrayed his frustration. Ciel could feel it growing — he could see it in the way Sebastian looked at him. There was no trace of respectful deference in his gaze, no indulgence, no superiority. Only gravity and sharp, biting irritation, like Ciel was the biggest source of aggravation he had ever subjected himself to. Like he was an opponent.

Satisfaction swelled in his chest, but to Ciel's confusion, it wasn't the pure, gleeful kind he'd been anticipating. This satisfaction was rooted in injury and hurt, and he didn't want to touch it. He no longer cared about how Sebastian viewed him — he wasn't supposed to.

"So let's get it straight," he said harshly, "the souls told you nothing. Nothing at all?"

"For now," Sebastian insisted. He held himself stiffly, but ironically, this only made him look open to an attack. "I still made some relevant observations. I believe I know what role Undertaker is playing."

It was Ciel's turn to purse his lips. He suspected and feared this much — Undertaker must have offered some hint when spewing his nonsense, and Sebastian's laughter meant that he understood something Ciel had missed.

"And you're ready to give a definite answer?"

Some of Sebastian's tension receded. He probably noticed Ciel's wariness, and it emboldened him enough to relax his posture.

"Not at the moment, no," he said with some reluctance, leaning against the back of his chair. "I will need to observe him for a longer time. But I believe my answer will be ready by tomorrow."

This was more realistic than Sebastian's earlier boasting, and thus more concerning. Ciel would have to come up with at least one answer by tomorrow, too, no matter what it took.

"What about you?" Sebastian asked, and despite the surface indifference, Ciel was certain he heard a ring of genuine curiosity. "Any insights?"

"A few. I have an idea of what role Tanaka got."

Irritation flared on Sebastian's face, and Ciel's lips shaped a pleased smile before he could stop himself.

So Sebastian couldn't imagine who Tanaka was. That was good. That gave him more ammunition.

"Overall, everyone seems engaged in the game," Ciel added. "But I have concerns about Ran-Mao. There is a strong possibility that she will remain a piece of emotionless rock that she is, so I'm not going to hinge my chances on her. I'm going to focus on other players for now."

"Indeed?" a smirk touched Sebastian's lips. "Thank you for letting me know, my lord. Then Ran-Mao will be the first in my list of victories."

This was meant to annoy him, and it worked — Ciel couldn't help an exasperated huff.

"I thought Undertaker was to be your first victory?"

Sebastian shrugged, careless and satisfied.

"I might combine the two," he answered confidently, and Ciel measured him with a cold look.

"You can try. But remember that you have only one chance. If you make a guess and it turns out to be erroneous, this will be it. You won't be able to try identifying this person again."

"I won't need a second chance," Sebastian continued to stare at him as if he was challenging him. His earlier discomfort all but faded, and while it stung, Ciel had to admit it was his fault. He knew not to show any weakness to Sebastian. One misstep of failing to hide his apprehension at the possibility of Undertaker's role being identified, and Sebastian pounced on it like the demon he was.

"Good," he growled, standing up. Sebastian automatically did the same. "Then I suggest that you also prepare a worthy excuse for your continued presence during the meals and leisure time. Unless you enjoy humans making fun of you."

"I already have an excuse," Sebastian's eyes bore into his. This time, there was something so intensely personal in them that Ciel's heart began to beat more rapidly, flustered for a reason he couldn't comprehend. "I am a guardian."

Not this again.

"And what are you guarding?"

Unlike the last time, Sebastian didn't seem rattled by the question. On the contrary, he took a step forward, boldly intruding into Ciel's personal space, staring at him so attentively that it stirred heat in a lower part of his stomach. Ciel forced himself to stand still even when Sebastian's gloved hand brushed against his face, sliding down it without touching it, an echo of a touch.

"You," Sebastian said. It was a predictable answer, one Ciel had been prepared to laugh off just this morning, but something about the way Sebastian said it sent his heart racing. His blood rushed to his face just as the dizzying web of light-headedness took him hostage, leaving him no path of retreat. "I am guarding you. From the start of our contract and until the end of your life."

He was too unbearably close. For a second, such proximity reminded Ciel of sitting on the ground, with Sebastian's hands around him, the distance between closing, closing, the air getting so electrified that taking a breath was an impossibility… His head began to spin in an odd, almost pleasurable way, so he took a hasty step back, digging his nails into his skin to get his mind back in order.

What was… why would Sebastian even…

No, it didn't matter, not anymore, not again. He had to give Sebastian a reply, and quickly, before he ruined his hard work by appearing to be some easily manipulated fool.

"The end of my life is going to arrive sooner than you planned for unless you or I manage to identify a killer," Ciel managed to push out. His heart was still beating erratically, and Sebastian was still watching him like he was someone fascinating, but he forced himself to stay focused on his words. "Or do you think Undertaker or Ran-Mao has been given this task?"

"No, I don't," Sebastian smiled distantly. His attention still seemed to be fixed on Ciel's face. "I have narrowed the list of suspects down to four people immediately after you told me the rules."

"Oh?" this rubbed Ciel the wrong way, and his displeasure overshadowed the flustered confusion that continued to rage in him. "How so?"

"Bard was assigning the roles to everyone. He would have never given the role of a killer to someone who would be willing to do you harm. It means that he either accepted it himself or he gave it to Mey-Rin, Finnie, or Tanaka."

Ciel mulled over these words, comparing his thoughts about it now to his thoughts from before. In the end, he had to conclude that his opinion remained the same. It was a strong possibility that Bard gave the role of a killer to someone he trusted, but it wasn't a guarantee, especially with Randall selecting his own role.

He'd have to remind Sebastian of it… and to bluff some more just as precaution.

"Lord Randall picked his own role from the list," he commented coolly. "It's possible that he might have jumped at the chance to kill me. You said it yourself. As for Bard… you seem to be forgetting the injuries I sustained in his company just a few days ago. Did you really think they are a coincidence?"

Sebastian's eyes widened. Murderous fury flashed there, mixed with shock and disbelief, and Ciel smirked.

"Think about it," he advised. "Now come. I'm ready to go to bed."

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Obviously, he wasn't planning on going to sleep. As soon as Sebastian left, Ciel stood up and walked to the second floor, taking a place between a long sofa and thick curtains. The carpet here wasn't of the most comfortable kind, but it was the most secluded spot, and it was surrounded by the rooms he'd picked for their guests. He'd deliberately planned for them all to live on this floor — Undertaker was the exception, with his demand for a new room, but Ciel would be able to hear the door opening from here anyway. The same went for the servants. If any of them moved, he would know, and if they touched the objects he marked, the ink would reveal it.

The most important thing was to force himself to stay awake. He couldn't afford himself to fall asleep.

A shadow flickered somewhere in the vicinity, but Ciel ignored it. Sebastian could watch him all he wanted — the abhorrent heat he had managed to evoke in him with his strange manipulations was too rattling for Ciel to dwell on it any further.

"You'd better not be spying on anyone else in the house like this, demon," he murmured. "You are forbidden to rely on your powers for anything other than soul-watching and other things you cannot control. I hope you remember it."

A long silence followed his warning. The crackling sensation of Sebastian's presence didn't fade, though. Ciel waited, and waited, but it stayed with him. Finally, a light breath of wind caressed the back of his neck, making him shiver.

"I do not need to resort to such tactics," Sebastian whispered. His voice was disembodied — he didn't make an actual appearance, he just spoke, and for some reason, it intensified the dizziness that was already clouding Ciel's mind. "But when it comes to you, they are your only weapon. For how long will you be able to use it if you spend every night that follows here? You need to sleep."

"You are not my butler at the moment, demon. So you don't get to dictate how much I sleep. Go away."

A breathless laugh tickled his neck again, and Ciel closed his eyes briefly, fighting the urge to succumb to it and to lean into its warmth.

"As you wish," Sebastian murmured. Then his presence evaporated, and Ciel could finally breathe properly, even though his chest felt strangely empty.

He didn't know what goal Sebastian had been pursuing with his… oddness, it was impossible to predict him at times, but he could make a guess. After realising that the souls could not reveal the entire truth about their owners, Sebastian was no longer certain of his victory. And he was trying to throw Ciel off his game, too, by confusing him and hoping to make him focus on all the wrong things.

If true, this meant only one thing. Ciel had to double down on his effort to arrive at the finish line first.

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Around two o'clock, the door on the servants' floor creaked open. There were slow and measured footsteps — Tanaka, or someone pretending to be him. Ciel stood up, creeping in that direction, but at the same moment, another door opened. He darted back behind the sofa, and when he peered from its side, he saw Randall passing by. He was moving with ridiculous slowness, trying to step quietly and not to collide with anything. He had no candle, and since the sky was cloudy tonight, the moonlight barely made it through.

Ciel's heart began to beat more loudly. Eager but wary, he shifted to the right, watching Randall stop at the wooden door and bend down to inspect the lock. He doubted anything was visible, and Randall probably came to the same conclusion. Grunting in displeasure, he took something out of his pocket and pressed it against the door. Ciel couldn't see what he was doing, but a moment later, there was a snapping sound and a creak. The door opened; Randall slipped inside and closed it.

Some of the ink-stained things were in that room. Tomorrow morning would show which of them he touched and which drew his attention the most.

Something was happening downstairs, too, but Ciel couldn't risk leaving his place now that Randall was out exploring. It was better to keep track of the target he had in front of him than risk going on a dubious journey. Who knew, maybe it was Sebastian trying to distract him by mimicking Tanaka's gait. This wouldn't be unexpected.

Eventually, the noise downstairs ceased. Randall remained inside the room for over an hour, and when he emerged, his face was so pale and horrified that Ciel could see it even in the dark. Half-giggle, half-snort almost escaped him, and he had to press his hand to his mouth to keep himself silent.

He knew what Randall had seen. He didn't even need to touch him and see the colour of the ink to make certain, it was obvious anyway.

Randall had gone straight for the fake reports of his investigations. He was too wary of stealing them, so he stayed there until he read the first part in its entirety.

A spy would do that. A spy would make these documents a priority.

The already familiar problem was, so would Randall. Whatever role he picked, he wouldn't miss a chance to poke his nose into Ciel's affairs.

Curiosity and interest combined, fuelling one another. Ciel sat back down, thinking, waiting for something else to happen, but no one moved. No one opened their doors.

At half past six, he finally gave up and went to bed. The house was sleeping — or it was pretending to be.

He wondered if Sebastian made any progress tonight.

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It felt like he had just closed his eyes when someone began to shake him. Disoriented, Ciel blinked, trying to understand what the time was and who was bothering him. It wasn't Sebastian for sure, the touch was all wrong, all foreign, but when he managed to focus, he saw Tanaka's smiling face.

"Good morning, young lord," he greeted loudly. "It is time for you to meet the world."

This was… very unlike Tanaka. Ciel stared at him, his sleepy mind struggling with making sense of his confusion. That was when the door opened and Sebastian slipped inside.

"Thank you for your assistance, Tanaka," he said politely. "But taking care of our lord's needs remains my responsibility. Perhaps he has forgotten to inform you?"

Tanaka straightened, turning to face him.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "Young Master Phantomhive is often forgetful."

Ciel's eyes widened at this insult before narrowing in contemplation. An idea that was already flickering in his mind had just gained a solid shape.

With a slightly imperfect bow, Tanaka left. Sebastian arched his eyebrow, looking at Ciel with amusement.

"Did you sleep well, my lord?" he asked innocently.

"Shut up," Ciel grumbled. Then he paused, and a tight fist of wistfulness and dejection squeezed his heart.

This short interaction felt just like something from their recent past. There was familiarity in it, the edged but mostly good-natured teasing… no disgust with which Sebastian had been watching him lately. No painful awkwardness.

Was Sebastian getting used to it? To him, like this, with a blank and unappetising soul?

Hope raised its stupid head, and Ciel growled at it internally.

He didn't care what Sebastian was thinking and how his opinion was or wasn't progressing. What they had had was gone. There was not a single thing Sebastian could do to change his mind and melt the ice that Ciel was carefully cultivating.

Fortunately, Sebastian must have remembered the same because his expression cooled.

The remaining part of their ritual passed in silence.

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Ciel managed to reach the dining room first. He stood next to his chair, smiling and shaking the hand of everyone who joined him. To his interest, Undertaker's ended up stained with pale yellow. Sometime during the day, he had managed to interact with the poisons or the weapons. This was worth noting.

Randall, predictably, shone with the green ink. After the handshake, which he tolerated with obvious disgust, he took his seat, and then he stared at his hand in confusion.

"If I may note, my lord," Lau drawled, pointing with his fork at him. "This suit doesn't suit you. This is not really your colour."

Ciel rolled his eyes. He was about to speak when Sebastian beat him to it.

"That perpetual smoking of opium must have affected your eyesight," he stated. His voice was coarse, barely resembling his usual melodic tone. "Look again. It matches his eye colour flawlessly."

Speechlessness seized his throat. Ciel stared, too shocked to believe that this had just happened. For Sebastian to say something this astonishingly rude to the guests, dubious as they were? And to what, to defend him?

No, not to defend him. Obviously. To defend Sebastian's own taste in clothing. Still, this was unprecedented, and he was clearly not the only shocked person. Everyone was staring until Lau finally found his voice again.

"Well, what do you know, a demon disagrees with me over my view on one person's attractiveness," he remarked, his eyes amused. Ciel choked on his own saliva, sending a scandalised glare to him. "Why am I not surprised in the least?"

Fortunately, Sebastian left that without an answer.

Undertaker was watching everyone with a strangely apathetic expression; Ran-Mao alternated between studying Lao and Sebastian, and Randall was mouthing something under his breath. Probably a prayer to counter the blasphemy happening around him.

A moment later, Tanaka walked in with the tray. He was passing Sebastian, so Ciel saw the quick and triumphant look that flashed across Sebastian's face. He squinted, trying to understand the possible meaning of it.

"Breakfast," Tanaka announced. He proceeded to serve everyone, but when Ciel was about to dig in, he caught the imperceptible shake of Sebastian's head. Startled, he hesitated — just on time to hear the exclamations and spluttering from around him.

"What is this insult?" Randall shouted. He spat the food right back on his plate, shaking in righteous outrage. "Are you trying to poison us? Who made this?"

"This certainly… tastes refreshing," Lau muttered. His voice sounded subdued, like he'd swallowed his oatmeal and now it was fighting its way out of him. Ran-Mao hadn't touched hers, while Undertaker continued to eat spoon after spoon, a pleased grin on his now-satisfied face.

"This is delicious!" he exclaimed. "The most delicious thing I've ever tasted. I will have to ask for a recipe."

"Mad!" Randall roared. He threw his spoon away with such force that it knocked Ciel's cup of tea over, landing an inch from him. "You are all mad here! The sickness of you! And especially you!" he pointed his inked finger at Ciel. "You are the worst of them! To come up with this insanity—"

"Kindly choke to death," Sebastian said with a sharp-edged smile. It was so jarring to hear something this rude and offensive from him in the presence of others that Ciel jolted, nearly falling off his chair.

"Sebastian!" he yelled, mortified. His shock was so overwhelming that only a part of his mind registered his mistake. Another part joined in when Sebastian's grin widened.

"I don't know anyone called Sebastian here, my lord," he replied.

Of course. Using his name was — damn it all to hell. How could he have fallen for such an obvious provocation? And of course Sebastian was behaving like an uneducated brute — technically, he wasn't a butler right now. He didn't have almost any responsibilities, he was basically jobless, so he could behave the way he wanted to — Ciel's order ensured it.

Disappointment with himself threatened to break his mask of civility. Ciel pressed his lips tightly together, looking away from that infuriating smile and staring at his plate. The only thing that stopped his heart from sinking was the fact that Sebastian had lashed out twice in his protection. Sort of.

Also, it was surprisingly considerate of him to warn Ciel about the food. Tanaka must have done something with it during the night, and Sebastian must have noticed it.

This was objectively a negative development, but a foolish part of Ciel that somehow continued to cling to life despite his best efforts bloomed at the thought, at this weak and vague sign of care. How ridiculous could he get?

"I've had enough," Randall hissed. He stood up, measuring them all with a hateful look. "You, every one of you, will pay for this. This I can promise."

"We are having a gathering at the library at midday," Ciel called out to his retreating back. "Be sure to attend it. There are some medical texts there that I am sure a man in your circumstances will appreciate."

Randall stopped. Then he turned slowly, and the gaze he pierced Ciel with was full of such loathing and a promise of retribution that it was downright terrifying — or it would have been if Ciel was capable of seeing Randall as a serious threat. Since this wasn't the case, he sent him a cheerful smile back before diverting his attention to the problem with food. Carefully, he took a sniff and grimaced.

Vinegar. A lot of it.

His begrudging gratitude towards Sebastian grew another inch. It was also a reason for him to go to the kitchen and get a chance to interact with Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finnie, who were always there at this time of the day.

"Please give me a moment," Ciel said pleasantly, just as Undertaker stole Lao's vinegar-soaked portion and began to consume it eagerly. "I will sort the situation with the breakfast out in a moment."

Lau looked like he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind. So, with the last glance at everyone but Sebastian, Ciel went to the kitchen, feeling a little lighter than he had before.

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To say that the behaviour of the servants was strange was to say nothing. Bard treated him with the icy contempt that began to make Ciel feel concerned. Mey-Rin also sent him a long, coldly assessing look before she began to slam the plates one on top of another with such force that it was a miracle nothing broke. Only Finnie acted normally — he threw confused gazes at everyone and invited Ciel into the garden to show him the bed of hay he made for Pluto.

This brief encounter was curious, so Ciel filed it away for later.

After breakfast, he stole a few hours of sleep in his office. It wasn't enough for his exhausted body, but he felt better now than he had in the morning. Strong enough to attend the meeting he'd organised and absorb more tips from every player.

It was midday already, so Ciel hastened to the library. A low familiar murmur reached him before he turned the corner, and he stopped by instinct, taking a careful peek instead of rushing ahead.

An unpleasant sensation stirred in him when he saw Sebastian speaking to Ran-Mao. His lips were curled in a mysterious, alluring smile, and he was staring fixedly at her face, like she was the most beautiful human being he'd ever seen.

Ciel couldn't hear their conversation properly. He could only see their faces: Sebastian's, emanating confidence and that seductive poison Ciel often fell victim to, and Ran-Mao's, unusually animated and alight with intrigue.

Sebastian said something else and then took a step forward, entering her personal space, still not looking away from her — not even blinking. Raising his hand, he slid it down Ran-Mao's face, imitating a touch, and Ciel's heart stopped when he suddenly recognised it. The stare, the non-quite-touch — everything.

This was the exact repetition of what Sebastian had done to him yesterday. Down to the smallest detail.

He was right: it was a basic manipulation. Sebastian wanted to rattle him yesterday and he wanted to get information out of Ran-Mao today. Both tasks meant the same to him, both were equally insignificant, so he didn't bother changing his approach. Why would he? After all, it was effective. Ciel had lost track of any coherent thoughts for a while, and Ran-Mau must have run into the same problem: an awkward smile appeared on her lips, and she let out a melodic chuckle.

A sickening feeling of hurt cut through Ciel's lungs like a knife. The pain from it was sharp, and he bit into his lip, struggling to breathe properly.

He didn't know whom he hated more right now, himself, Sebastian, or Ran-Mao. So what if yesterday's behaviour had been manipulation? Sebastian had been doing it to him since the beginning of their contract. One of the very first things he did was try to manipulate him into breaking the contract and to kill him. Years had passed, but what really changed? Nothing. Because demons couldn't evolve. They were static.

On the other hand, Ciel was supposed to mean more, at least right now, being Sebastian's owner. Surely he deserved better manipulation? Why was he being placed on the same level with some stupid girl who couldn't put more than three words together?

Resentment choked him, and Ciel clenched his fists.

Irrelevant. Whatever Sebastian had managed to learn through his tricks, it was time to put a stop to it.

"Is everyone already inside?" Ciel asked coldly, stepping out into the corridor. Sebastian regarded him with interest.

"Yes, my lord," he replied. "Everyone is waiting for you. Did you have a good nap?"

Great. Barbs ridiculing his age.

"I did," Ciel said stiffly, walking towards the door. "Pity that you can't relate. Seeing dreams is too complex of a concept for the elderly demons to experience it."

This wasn't a particularly powerful comeback, but Sebastian's eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"Demons can see dreams," he pointed out. "And it happens regardless of their age. Moreover, the older a demon is, the more respect they command. I'm not surprised this did not occur to you — humans are limited in their perception of age."

Not this again. Ciel bit back a curse, glaring at Sebastian and then at Ran-Mao, knowing he was beaten here.

Not saying a word, he entered the library and forced his lips to shape a smile.

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Everyone except for Tanaka accepted his invitation. There was already tea and biscuits inside, and Lau was stuffing himself with them. Ran-Mao joined him, but she kept throwing intrigued gazes at Sebastian, and each of them kept breathing fire into Ciel's blood until it began to boil. With some difficulty, he forced himself to look at the other players, tracking their actions and behaviours.

Bard was leaning against the wall next to the door, staring somewhere ahead moodily. When Sebastian brazenly sat down into one of the armchairs, Bard shifted closer to him, taking a place right behind him.

This was getting increasingly interesting, only to Ciel's frustration, he was completely out of ideas. What role would make Bard pretend to hate him and push him closer to Sebastian? Could it be that Sebastian had been right, and Bard took the role of a killer for himself?

He'd have to watch him with this idea in mind.

Mey-Rin was absorbed in reading a huge book, and when Ciel approached, pretending he wanted to take a better look out of the window, he saw its title. Poisons and Their Detection.

Another candidate for a killer. Or maybe she was a false suspect?

Finnie was moving around the room, looking increasingly antsy, while Randall took the farthest corner from everyone, glowering at them all. He was also holding some book on his lap, but there was no chance for Ciel to see its title.

The person who drew the attention the most, though, was undeniably the Undertaker. He was sitting at the centre of the room in a long pink robe, and it was decorated with all kinds of orders and medals. There were so many ribbons there that Ciel's eyes hurt just from looking at them.

He would attribute it to Undertaker's general oddities — they certainly didn't have the role of a soldier or a faker — but what gave him pause was Sebastian. He was examining Undertaker's medals attentively before snorting, his lips twisting in an ironic smirk. Whatever thoughts he had, he kept them to himself, and worry flooded Ciel when he realised he had no idea what was happening. It was obvious that Undertaker was communicating something again, like he had yesterday, but this was the language Ciel didn't speak and couldn't use.

What was worse, Randall had also noticed Undertaker's choice of clothing and medals. He was staring now, and his livid face was getting more purple by the second.

"I didn't know you were an officer!" Lau exclaimed. He leaned across the sofa, still chewing his biscuit, and poked at one medal. "Victoria Cross? Four of them? What did you do to get such a distinction from Her Majesty? Killed four times more people than expected?"

"I certainly did," Undertaker agreed. Lau pressed his hand to his chest.

"It's an honour," he said solemnly, but there was a strange ugly undertone in his voice. "A tremendous British honour."

"It certainly is," Undertaker agreed again.

Ciel officially had no idea what they were talking about. Watching Randall was his best chance to find out: his face gained all the reddish-purple shades possible by now, which meant he was about to explode — and then he would start yelling at the Undertaker, inadvertently sharing the insights that Ciel was in an urgent need of.

"Can I leave now, Young Master?" Finnie asked. Ciel turned to him, and he could sense Sebastian doing the same.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Outside?" Finnie shifted his feet, throwing a longing look at the window. Ciel's brows furrowed.

Was it a part of the game or was Finnie being genuine? This seemed like something he would say. So far, nothing in his behaviour hinted at what role he was playing, so either he was ignoring his orders or Ciel was missing something — yet again.

He didn't have time to answer because the door suddenly opened. Tanaka bowed to them all before announcing, "Lord Edward Midford to see Earl Ciel Phantomhive."

For a second, Ciel thought he might have misheard. There was too much activity happening simultaneously, it was impossible to keep track of it all — was Tanaka lying?

Then he saw Edward's blond head, and he jumped to his feet, shocked and horrified.

Instead of telling this presumptuous bore to wait, Tanaka had led him straight into the library. Where all the crazy guests were gathered. There was no way for it to end well unless Ciel managed to lead Edward out of here as soon as—

"Lord Midford!" Lau cried out, waving both hands frantically. "It's such an honour to finally meet you! Come here, sit down for a moment."

"Don't come here," Undertaker argued. Edward gaped at him, staring at his clothing with wide eyes. "Better go elsewhere and ask the demon to bring you some herbal tea. You are going to need it."

"The demon is currently unavailable," Sebastian replied lazily. He stretched in the armchair boldly, catching Ciel's incensed look and just smirking in return.

Maybe taking away his butler responsibilities was a bad idea. Now Sebastian felt free to invent a role for himself, and this role was the absolutely worst thing he could come up with. For Edward to see that the butler of the Phantomhives was behaving in such a rude and unprofessional manner… this was a disaster. A disaster that he had to address at once.

"Let's go to my office," Ciel said hastily, approaching the door and trying to shield everyone from Edward's shocked gaze. "We can talk there."

To his annoyance, Edward didn't move.

"What… is that?" he asked, pointing his finger at Undertaker. He sounded faint. "Why is he wearing… who is…"

"Direct all questions to your relative, Lord Midford," Randall spoke, malicious vindication ringing in each word. "I'm certain he can give you illuminating answers."

"About more than one subject," Ciel retorted coolly. He focused on Edward again. "Let's go," he repeated. This time, his voice was sharp and commanding, and Edward straightened his back automatically, taking a hasty step back before scowling.

Their walk towards Ciel's office passed in silence. Inside, Ciel walked to his table and turned around, crossing his arms against his chest.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I don't remember sending an invitation."

Paleness slowly began to leave Edward's face. He still looked flabbergasted, but indignation started to overshadow it.

"I came here to ask you personally what was so important that you didn't attend my sister's birthday party!" he spat. "Is this how you treat someone you've sworn to marry? Something that I won't let come to pass if I have any say in this!"

His usual bristling was tiresome on a good day, and Ciel didn't feel good right now.

"I believe I explained myself in the letter," he responded coldly, leaning against his table. "There were urgent business matters that I had to attend to. I'm certain Elisabeth understands that duty to the Queen comes first. Don't you?"

"I saw what business matters you're attending to!" Edward turned bright red, pointing his finger at the wall. "You invited all those— those crazy people! Those blasphemers, those abominations! Even the lady! Did you see what she was wearing? How dare you stay in her company when you're engaged to my sister?"

That was probably a slight against Ran-Mao. Ciel had a problem with her, too, but her choice of clothes wasn't a part of it.

"It is business," he growled, anger slipping into his voice against his will. It was easier to interact with Edward when there were other people Ciel could use as buffers. When they were alone, he reverted to a child he'd once been, stumbling down to the same childish level of foolishness. "My business. You and I have very different sets of responsibilities. Your connections will bore me to death; it's to be expected that my connections will disturb you. The Phantomhives are not the Midfords and you know it."

"That's for absolutely sure!" Edward shouted. He clenched his fists, and the sudden explosion of aggression in him lit the unpleasant tension in the room. "I don't care what anyone says, it's not normal to do what you do. Surrounding yourself with criminals and making their world your own… Do you even understand what being an Evil Nobleman means?"

This was so ridiculous that Ciel couldn't help but snort rudely.

"Considering that I am one, yes, I'd say I understand. Much better than you."

Edward ignored him, still glaring at him like Ciel was the most disgusting thing he had ever laid eyes on.

"It means being evil," he snarled. "You are a nobleman because you were born into a respectable family — in this context, it's meaningless. Being evil isn't. That's the main point, that's what it's all about. I don't want my sister anywhere near you. Will you be inviting all those sick men and women into your manor after you marry her? Over my dead body!"

"Well, that can be arranged," Ciel bit out, and then immediately regretted it. Edward recoiled from him. A dark solemn look overtook his features, and Ciel had to swallow a curse burning on the tip of his tongue. Losing his temper was the worst decision — his impatience and rashness could be a costly mistake. The Midfords, as distant as he felt towards them, were family, and even though he was unlikely to live long enough to marry Elisabeth, he still had obligations towards her. Alienating her brother would be a disadvantage.

"You can try," Edward hissed. There was a real threat in his voice, and Ciel tensed. "It wouldn't surprise me in the least. But you will find that it is much more difficult to catch me off guard now than it was in the past, when you tried to drown me in that swamp! Or when you made my mother cane me almost to death by lying that it was me who put a butchered frog into Lizzie's plate!"

Ciel grimaced, the forgotten images from the past suddenly gaining a solid form. This particular incident had almost faded from his memory — he honestly didn't think it was that serious. To imagine that Edward was still obsessed with it…

"It was just a joke," he said. Apparently, it was another misstep because Edward cursed, making an aggressive step towards him.

"You are sick," he spat. "And what you did to that frog was sick. You disembowelled it! You put all its organs and what remained of it next to each other in some twisted composition and placed it on Lizzy's plate like it was food, and when she screamed and started crying, you claimed you saw me playing with it! And nobody believed me — they never did, they thought you were an innocent little angel incapable of harming an insect. If you had done this to me, I could dismiss it as one of your violent tricks, but you did this to her just to set me up, and this is not something I will ever forgive or forget!"

All right, the situation was rapidly slipping from under his control. Ciel had to think of something and fast.

A shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, and he tilted his head in its direction.

Sebastian came to watch him. It was supposed to be annoying, but Ciel couldn't deny the soothing touch of relief that trickled down his spine. Calmness seeped into him, and with it, a sudden idea was born.

What if he used Sebastian's tactic of manipulation? Edward was strong and good with a sword, but he wasn't particularly bright. If Ciel could outsmart him when he was eight, he could definitely do the same now.

First, he took a deep breath. Then he assumed a remorseful expression, sending a dejected gaze to Edward.

"You are right," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

He crowed internally when Edward paused, confusion replacing his hostility.

"You are?" he asked suspiciously. Ciel nodded.

"Of course. You have to understand that I was just a child back then. Children often underestimate the consequences of their actions."

Edward continued to watch him warily, so Ciel dropped his hands and began to approach him, step by step, softening his expression into something more earnest.

"I swear that I never tried to kill you in the swamp," he murmured. Edward remained where he was, not trying to move away — this was a good sign. "I wanted to pay you back for bothering me, but I didn't realise the whole severity of my actions. How could I? It was like a game, and I thought I was winning. I never wanted anything bad to actually happen to you."

A range of conflicted emotions ran through Edward's face. He continued to look wary, and Ciel stopped, waiting for him to make his decision. Finally, Edward nodded.

"All right," he said tensely, "let's say I believe you. But the frog—"

"I honestly never intended for it to end up on Lizzie's plate," Ciel interrupted him. He resumed walking, carefully bridging the distance between them. "I thought it was yours. By the time I realised I made a mistake, it was too late, and I was too scared to admit to it. I felt horrible from that moment on — I never stopped. And yes, it was petty of me to do something like this in the first place—"

A misstep — Edward bristled again, although his renewed anger lacked its previous passion.

"It wasn't petty," he pointed out, frowning heavily. "It was sick. What kind of person does that?"

"A person from my family," Ciel said. He smiled wistfully, letting his lips tremble vulnerably for a moment, and he saw how Edward's wariness instantly transformed into concern.

Excellent. Edward had always been a protector. Using this against him would be easy, especially since Ciel was younger and thus automatically perceived as more defenceless.

"You were almost right when you said that Evil Noblemen are evil," he murmured. "It's not that they are all bad people — my father was a good man, you know it. But this is a duty bestowed upon us by Her Majesty, and doing our best to fulfil it is what we must do. Sometimes it requires hard decisions."

Edward didn't say anything, so Ciel took another tiny step to him.

"When I was eight," he said, "I was enthralled by what awaited me. I tried to prove that I could be a worthy successor, and I did things that I now regret. What is a dark duty to a child? In my mind, killing a frog and scaring you meant proving that I was worthy of becoming an Evil Nobleman myself in the future. And now that I am one, I realise how much more complicated and challenging it is."

He fell silent, watching Edward from under his lashes.

"I… I know some things," Edward said awkwardly. He shifted, but he didn't move away. "I understand why it might be difficult for you. But those men that I saw in your library, the way they behaved, the way they looked—"

"It's practice," Ciel interrupted him. With a final step, he closed the distance, standing as close to Edward as Sebastian had stood to him — and to Ran-Mao just an hour ago. "I'm still learning how to conduct myself and how to benefit Her Majesty most with my service to her. So I assembled those I trust, and I gave them different roles to play. Criminals, blasphemers, prostitutes — these are the people I have to meet regularly, and I'm trying to get used to it by practising on my allies. It's like a game. An unpleasant one, but then I don't have much choice here, do I?"

He made sure to stare as intently as Sebastian had, and delight unfolded in him when he saw the first trace of a flush on Edward's face. This time, it wasn't heated with anger — it simply looked warm.

"Yes," Edward stammered. "I mean, you don't have a choice. Yes. I understand."

"Good," Ciel said. He titled his head back, widening his eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster. "I don't want us to fight. Elisabeth is very dear to me, and by extension, you are important to me as well. I wouldn't want to start the union of our families on a sour note. Do you accept my apology?"

"Yes," Edward blurted out. His face was almost all red now, and Ciel found it beyond fascinating. Sebastian's tactic truly worked, although he couldn't fully comprehend what specific effect it had. "I do. I hope you accept mine for arriving unannounced and for saying what I did."

"Of course," Ciel said gently. It felt weird to do it, but like Sebastian, he raised his hand, briefly pressing it to Edward's cheek. "Would you like to stay? I can ask Tanaka to organise a light meal for us all."

"No need for that," Edward hastened to assure him. He finally stepped back, still red as a tomato, his eyes darting to Ciel's face just to drop to the floor, again and again. "I will take my leave now. I took enough of your time. I will pass your regards to Lizzie."

"Please do."

With the last strange lingering look at him, Edward escaped. The door closed, and Ciel snickered, turning to face the window.

"You can come out now," he called out. "I know you are here."

An amused chuckle rolled through the air before Sebastian stepped seemingly out of nothing, regarding him with an intrigued gaze.

"A disembowelled frog?" he asked. "You skipped that part of the story when sharing details about your very first murder attempt with me."

"It happened a few days after the swamp incident, and I fail to see its relevance," Ciel muttered, walking behind his table and dropping into his armchair. "I forgot about it until Edward brought it up."

"You weren't the one caned, so I'm not surprised it slipped from your memory. I have to say, your performance with Lord Midford was something to behold," slowly, Sebastian sat on the opposite chair without asking for permission. He put his hands on the table and then lay his chin on top of them. Ciel blinked, taken aback by such an unusual sight.

"Are you being casual again?" he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Stop that. You are embarrassing me in front of our guests."

He didn't hope that his words would have any effect, and he was right — Sebastian just shrugged, continuing to gaze at him from his atypical position.

"You have rendered my true role ineffective for the duration of this game. It means that I am free to seek another one."

"And you just had to choose— this," Ciel waved his hand vaguely, eyeing Sebastian's bold form with disapproval. "Making inappropriate remarks, behaving like an uncivilised boor…"

"If you are willing to restore me to my position, I will of course adjust my behaviour accordingly."

"And give you a chance to snoop around our guests' room?" Ciel snorted. "Forget about it."

Truth to be told, he didn't mind Sebastian's new unpredictable behaviour that much. Telling Randall to choke to death was certainly hilarious, even if horrifyingly inappropriate, and since everyone had a role, Ciel supposed he could let Sebastian entertain himself — the both of them — by having his fun.

"As you wish," Sebastian shrugged again. His eyes were still alight with interest. "May I ask, why did you choose to put the disfigured frog into Lady Elisabeth's plate? If your plan was to set your cousin up, you could have used your own."

"If I did, Edward would not have been punished," Ciel uttered absent-mindedly. In retrospect, he shouldn't have done what he did, not the way he did it, but it was too late to have regrets. "My parents would have been lenient with him. They would insist on letting this incident go, and since I would have been an alleged victim in this scenario, the Midfords would likely heed my parents' wishes. If they thought that Edward did this to Elisabeth, though, no one would be able to tell them what to do, and they would choose the punishment they deemed fit. Knowing his mother, I knew what she would do."

Sebastian hummed, still watching him attentively. Finally, he sat up properly.

"Why did you do it?" he wondered. "Was nearly killing him not enough?"

"To be honest, I don't remember why," Ciel frowned. Now that Edward had brought that day up, he remembered the frog, but not what caused him to launch the whole plan. "He probably did something else to annoy me. It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago and I'm sure Elisabeth forgot about it by now."

Sebastian didn't reply. His stare grew piercing and contemplating, glinting in a way that Ciel couldn't understand.

"May I try something?" he asked at last. Normally, Ciel would have asked for elaborations, but some hungry curiosity in him made him nod silently.

Smiling with the corner of his lips, Sebastian slipped one of his white gloves off and reached across the table, carefully taking Ciel's hand in his. The touch was light and unoppressive, but Ciel still jerked like he was hit by a lightning, confused heat flooding his insides in one overwhelming wave.

"What are you doing?" he protested, trying to pull away. His attempt was weak, and Sebastian didn't let go.

"Tshh," he murmured. He didn't say anything else, and Ciel stopped moving, glued to his place by a force too great and confusing for him to comprehend.

It felt odd to have Sebastian simply hold his hand. It felt even odder like this, without a glove. Sebastian's skin was cool and soothing, and something about it electrified every cell in Ciel's body. Even his hair stood on end; his heart kept stumbling, jolting, and skipping irregular beats, and he had to open his mouth to breathe.

He didn't know how much time passed. Sebastian continued to stay quiet, studying him with the same eerily intense look, and while one part of Ciel felt increasingly anxious, another one melted, absorbing every second of this strange comfort.

The already-familiar fog began to slowly descend on him, clouding his mind, and before it consumed all his reason entirely, he blurted out the first thing that jumped to his mind, "I know what role Tanaka is playing."

It looked like it took Sebastian a few seconds to hear and react to his words. His eyebrows rose, whether in disbelief or in mockery, Ciel couldn't tell.

"Is that so?" Sebastian asked. "Are you willing to make a final statement on this matter?"

He continued to hold Ciel's hand in his, but since he seemed to ignore this little fact, Ciel decided to do the same.

"Yes," he confirmed. Doubts tried to infect his mind, but he waved them away. He was certain of his observations, and it was vital for him to be the first to identify one of the players correctly. Sebastian had to have a good suspicion about the Undertaker and Ran-Mao by now, and if Ciel noticed Tanaka's behaviour, Sebastian must have done it, too. Beating him was paramount. "Tanaka is a hindrance. Well, he's been a nuisance more than a hindrance, but I'm sure he's working up to it."

This time, it was definitely a mockery that flickered on Sebastian's face.

"How interesting," he drawled, although his tone indicated the opposite of his words. Ciel mirrored his expression.

"In what way?"

"In a way that is amusing to contemplate, but which is entirely wrong. Tanaka is a killer. Not a hindrance."

Ciel blinked, assessing this information.

Could it be that… no. Nothing pointed in that direction — on the contrary, the clues were very clear. But if Sebastian was certain of it…

Doubts resurfaced with vigorous strength, and it took more effort to beat them down this time.

No. The whole point of the game was that Sebastian didn't understand humans as well as he thought he did. He was wrong about them and he was wrong about Tanaka.

"Is that what you think?" Ciel asked, condescension woven into each syllable. "That's funny. How did you arrive at this conclusion?"

"His behaviour speaks for itself," Sebastian shrugged carelessly, even as his fingers tightened around Ciel's hand. "The shifting of his soul confirms it further. He ruined the food at night because he wanted to lay the ground for the eventual poisoning. To serve something unpalatable repeatedly before finally delivering a delicious meal and using people's relief and hunger in his goals."

"Or he ruined it because it's his role to ruin things," Ciel pointed out. Sebastian paused, a startled look briefly distorting his arrogant confidence. However, he quickly shook it off.

"That would be overly simplistic," he dismissed, and Ciel scowled. "Tanaka's plan is more complicated. Why do you think he came to wake you up this morning? He was checking whether he could gain direct access to you. It was your idea to make him a butler — naturally, he used this opportunity."

"Or he came to wake me up because he wanted to ruin my sleep and to prevent you from doing your job. Or maybe a real killer wanted to pay me a visit and Tanaka hindered those plans by barging in first. Have you considered this?"

A shark-like smile stretched Sebastian's lips.

"This is extremely far-fetched," he said derisively. "Even for someone desperate to win."

A sharp sting of annoyance made Ciel purse his lips. Sebastian was purposefully antagonising him, and playing into it by getting defensive and lashing out was the last thing he was going to do.

"Then there is the way he woke me up," he uttered, his voice cold and collected. "He shook me. He spoke loudly and atypically. He was clearly being a nuisance — unless you think it is appropriate for a butler to shake their master awake?"

Sebastian remained unruffled.

"For a butler, no," he agreed. "For Tanaka? Perhaps. Especially since his end-goal is to murder you."

The more Ciel heard, the more certain he was that Sebastian was going down the wrong path.

"It seems like you decided he must be a killer and now you are trying to push the known facts into this box," he noted. His fingers twitched, and Sebastian's grip on them tightened further. "You just said that he is going to poison me. How is accessing my bedroom and waking me up related to it?"

"He's considering different approaches to choose the most effective one," Sebastian responded immediately. "You didn't expect that he would try to kill you the first night, did you?"

"No. Just like I don't expect him to become an obvious hindrance so quickly. Starting as a nuisance and progressing makes sense, and that's exactly what he has been doing."

They stared at one another, in silent acknowledgement that neither was going to accept the arguments of the other.

There were more observations that Ciel hadn't shared. Like the way Tanaka spilled the tea on Lau. How he entered Randall's room, mistaking it for the Undertaker's. The way he led Edward into the library where he knew everyone else was gathered.

Sebastian didn't know Tanaka. Ciel did, and despite his age, Tanaka still knew how to be a perfect butler. In a normal state, he would never allow himself the mistakes he'd made. He wouldn't have spilled a single drop; he would have told Edward to wait and he would have gone to warn Ciel about his arrival.

His role was to ruin everything for everyone. It was clear, and Ciel was willing to bet on it.

"Let's call Bard," he suggested. "I am ready to give my answer. Are you?"

Triumph sang in him when Sebastian didn't reply immediately. There was temptation in his gaze, it was palpable, but there was also enough hesitation to stop him from giving in.

"No," he said at last. Slowly, he let go of Ciel's hand, and Ciel's skin instantly felt bitterly cold. "I wish Ran-Mao to be my first identified player like I promised you. But if you are confident in your assertion regarding Tanaka—"

"I am," Ciel interrupted him, his heart beating faster now. "Bring Bard here and we will see."

Sebastian nodded and vanished into thin air. It startled Ciel for a second, and then he huffed.

"How many times have I asked you not to do that!" he yelled. "And you are forbidden from using your powers unless you can't help it! Do I need to impose any further restrictions for you to start following them?"

Of course, he got no answer, but he knew Sebastian heard him. He always did.

Five minutes later, Sebastian returned with Bard in tow. Bard appeared as solemn as before, and while Sebastian tried to look composed, Ciel could sense his impatience and anticipation.

He thought he would win without making a guess by letting Ciel fail. Proving him wrong would set the best possible start for Ciel's eventual victory, so he forced himself to take a deep breath, feeling how his hands began to tremble in an equal mix of anxiety and excitement.

"I identified the first player," he said confidently — more confidently than he suddenly felt. "Tanaka is a hindrance whose eventual goal is to ruin the game for everyone."

Now that the answer was out, his pulse started racing even faster. Tension coiled in his stomach, fluttered somewhere in his chest, and if Bard wasn't going to give him an answer within the next minute—

A brief smile brightened Bard's face before it went back to grimness.

"Correct," he said simply.

Correct.

Ciel's heart soared. A reckless, self-satisfied grin stretched his lips wide, and he looked at Sebastian, drinking in the startled disappointment on his face.

"Still think you can understand humans better?" he drawled. "What about Tanaka's soul? What was that 'shifting' about? Did you misunderstand it? Did his soul confuse you into misinterpreting everything? How shocking."

Belatedly, he realised that Bard was still in the room, and this conversation was probably a little too revealing. But Bard said nothing — he wore an unusually blank expression, so Ciel dismissed him with a nod of his head. Then he turned to Sebastian again.

Sebastian was emanating displeasure. Even better, he looked dismayed. His arrogance shattered, leaving nothing but bafflement and concern behind.

"I win," Ciel concluded softly. He knew these words would have a strong effect: Sebastian scoffed, his uncertainty rapidly growing into defensiveness.

"You made one correct guess and you identified one of the least important roles," he said dismissively. "This fact won't lead you to the final victory. Perhaps you thought you wouldn't guess any role at all, and that is why you're so happy now?"

This was such a cheap and desperate dig that Ciel chuckled.

"No," he uttered, amused, "but perhaps you were the one who thought it, and that is why you are so unhappy now."

Sebastian almost glared at him — almost. He must have regained control over his expressions because he even managed to force a smile out.

"Congratulations on your first victory," he said demurely. "May it be your last."

This was supposed to be offensive, but for some reason, Ciel laughed, genuinely and light-heartedly.

He knew the good feelings wouldn't last. He would remember why he started this game and what kind of thing Sebastian was at his essence.

But for now, he allowed himself a moment of enjoyment.

Replies:

Kittizovics, thank you, so glad you liked it!

S. Oswald, thank you so much! Yeah, Sebastian is really digging himself into a deeper and deeper grave. No matter which of them wins, the repercussions will be long-lasting. Hope you enjoy the update!

OnlyHere4Puckabrina, thank you for your lovely review 3 Yes, Sebastian has been acting horribly in this chapter. Despite his attachment and growing feelings for Ciel, he's still a demon, and he still reverts to his cold and emotionally stunned behavior at times.

Ciel can't get rid of the spell, but it's only temporary: it will disperse the moment Gremory believes that Sebastian realized his mistake. I really hope you enjoy the game and its results :D Thank you again!

chibi-sennin, thank you, I appreciate it! 3

Aleta Wolff, thank you so much, I love how you put it, they are definitely both sadists and masochists, lol. They'll sooner torment one another than simply talk things over. And the game will definitely lead them to some surprising conclusions and realizations. Hope you enjoy it!

xoxo-No Name-xoxo, ah, I love what you said, you're so right, Sebastian should really learn to stop underestimating Ciel! He already lost and got into so many embarrassing situations because of him, but he still thinks he can dismiss him.

Ciel will have his revenge on Gremory: it will be years from now, but like you said, he's one to hold grudges :D