Coattails

by The-Pied-Avocet

Adolescence is the dormant rose of winter: a prickled, ugly, tangled mess of vines and thorns, with flowers promised only in the distant spring. "Spring" seems so far off to the demon that must console his angry, hurting charge in the midst of puberty - but it will come, and not without a price that they both must pay.

33. The Grafting

In a place far beyond the detection or comprehension of mortals — a place of living echoes, a cathedral, a cave — creatures reliant on the human soul gather in wait. Most come here to interpret the words of humanity and find the voice across time and space that will satiate their hunger. But within that place of ceaseless knowledge and noise, two separate beings had not long ago found their attention seized by that which was once a demon.

The first being is no longer alone. Another of its kind has joined it in its evaluation. They present as spheres of light, like stars, and the smaller one spins circles around the larger as if it is a satellite.

"Do you see? Do you see?" the smaller one flickers to speak. "The demon no longer wants to eat the soul or sculpt it to be eaten. He has given up on pursuing humans as a source of food."

"Well done, little one. He is as perfect a specimen as you claimed," communicates the larger, making its companion brighten with happiness for the praise. "This is a Lucifer who rejects his status as one of the fallen. We have never seen anything like this."

"Imagine how powerful we would be if it was one of us," the smaller light flickers. "But will you be strong enough to change it?"

"If it gives us permission to, the task should not be so difficult at this point. It has already begun changing internally, after all…"

"That's wonderful!" The little light flares, then dulls. "Oh… but what if it does not give you permission?"

The larger light scoffs this. "It will give us permission. After all, we are the only ones who can guarantee the safety of its beloved human's soul. Nothing means more to it than that… but just in case, We have an idea…"

The pair of light beings flicker and fade in the way of their language as if nothing could impede them now, but they know they have not been alone in their evaluation of that which was once a demon. Lurking nearby is another creature, one not made of light. And as that creature listens to the plans of the light beings, it quietly comes up with a plan that suits its own whims. It is a plan that does not involve Sebastian becoming anything else. And this plan must work.

After all, I am the only one who truly knows where that so-called "foreign magic" comes from.

---

Autumn was a chill that bit through coats and scarves, a fat raindrop splashing the back of the neck, a fug of wet decay creeping out from the old leaves. October spared them nothing, and October was just beginning.

The bad luck commenced that afternoon when Sebastian unlocked the postbox and saw inside an envelope from Fairclough. Fairclough! His eyes blazed with electric fire. How dare that worm write them now, how could he possibly imagine that this was the proper moment to extend his tidings? Sebastian's gloved fingers found the wax seal, started to ply it back, time to see what slights against me you thought would be for the young master's eyes only, you twisted—

Wait.

Sebastian stayed his hand. Breathed in, standing by the empty road leading past the manor in the bright gray afternoon, and breathed out. He couldn't open it. Not after reestablishing trust with the young master, a trust that was flimsy to boot. It felt terrible not to, like begging for danger to enter into his own household… but Tanaka had been right. Tanaka was always right. Not only would it be illegal for Sebastian to open or destroy this letter, but, more importantly, it would be a misuse of his power and a punishment towards a boy who hadn't done anything wrong.

"Protecting a child is more complicated than simply keeping him from that which you fear. The more you try to control, the less influence you have."

Sebastian did not open the envelope.

Ciel was in the drawing room. He was lethargic, lying on the sofa on his stomach with his eye patch off. He had Alfred Marshall's Principles of Economics sprawled open on the cushion before him, but he wasn't reading it. His cheek was pressed against the back of his wrist, and he was looking out across the room at a couple of coins scattered around the floor that he must have launched there using Mey-Rin's coin-shooting technique. He seemed to be hoping they would somehow appear back between his fingers so he could try snapping them again.

Three o'clock was the hour for tea, not lunch, but because breakfast had been taken nearly at noon, Sebastian made sure to supplement with a fresh batch of tapioca soup. He brought the mail as well.

"It's been a rather long day, hasn't it, my lord?" he greeted gently.

Ciel sighed audibly out his nose and didn't look at him. "I was supposed to have read the first chapter of the second section by tomorrow, but I can't focus on anything. Write to Mr. Hancey and Mr. Whitaker and tell them not to come. I'll still pay them, so they shouldn't have any problem with the short notice."

"Of course, young master." Sebastian finished pouring the cup of Darjeeling white tea and placed it steaming on the coffee table before the sofa.

Ciel nudged himself into a sitting position with a small groan. He mussed at his hair and reached for his eye patch next to the book. "You may as well tie this back on while you're here. If I want to read something else, I can do it just fine with one eye. At this point, I'm more accustomed to it anyway."

"Certainly, I shall assist you in a moment." Sebastian placed a tray table with legs atop the coffee table, to add some height, and then topped it with the steaming bowl of tapioca soup.

Ciel eyed the offering as Sebastian came behind the sofa. "This soup, huh… I think I'd be just fine with a proper lunch, I don't need this invalid mush."

Sebastian tutted in disagreement. "Better safe than sorry, I should think. You ate a lot of very heavy and insubstantial foods over the past few days, and we haven't finished correcting for that. An ounce of prevention…"

"All right, all right, fine!" Ciel fumed, ears turning red as the eye patch was looped under his left lobe. He was glaring as Sebastian came back around to the cart. "You should be watching yourself right now, you know. I told you I'm still angry with you, and I meant it. Mind how you try to embarrass me."

Sebastian maintained his poise outwardly, but inside allowed himself a groan. Please, let us not get into another fight so soon after we ended the last one… "I'm not trying to embarrass you. I am only looking out for your health. And here is a peace offering to help prove my innocence." Sebastian plucked the envelopes from inside his jacket (pinching them a little forcefully without intention, ah — he loosened his grip) and placed them on the table beside the raised tray. "There is a letter from Mr. Fairclough here. You need not reveal to me what it says." Ciel glared up at him. Sebastian put a hand to his chest. "You told me yourself that you wished to never see Fairclough again, and so I can help you to formulate a dismissive response to him, if you'd like. But this is all I shall say on the subject, unless I am invited to speak further. In short, sir, I am trusting you to handle the situation as you see fit."

"That's exactly what you should do." Ciel stirred at his soup and took a mouthful, then another and another. The boy may have called it "invalid mush," but Sebastian would never serve him anything of the sort. Seeing his charge satisfied, Sebastian began tidying up to give the boy space to read his letter, but then conversation began afresh — and changed to another loaded topic.

"I've been thinking more about this foreign magic business," Ciel said, swirling the spoon into the creamy broth, "and I think we need to consider it seriously. We should be doing whatever it takes to find out what the source of it is."

Oh dear. Once again, they could be treading the thin ice of a pond… Sebastian turned around from the trolley. "Mm, so that is on your mind… I did not mean for it to become a burden for you. Are you finding it worrisome?"

"Obviously," Ciel huffed. "You should be more worried too. If someone is trying to sabotage our contract, then it should be our highest priority to find out who and why. Don't you think so?"

Sebastian pressed his lips together. He'd hoped for more time before they talked about the foreign magic again. He should have known the young master wouldn't be able to sit easily with this truth. Was it right of me to share this problem with him? Should I have sounded more in-control of the situation when I introduced him to it? Or was I right to show him where things stood? Parenting never ceased to prove an endless conundrum.

"... Do you feel as if I cannot be trusted to proceed in the way I already have with my research?" Sebastian decided to ask.

Ciel took another spoonful of soup and shrugged loosely. "I don't even know the way you've already been proceeding. I don't understand anything about magic. But since you haven't found any surefire answers yet, I would say you probably need to do something different."

Here they were… Sebastian allowed himself a heavy sigh before venturing to the far end of the sofa and sitting upon it. Ciel knew what it meant when Sebastian sat down now. The boy's posture and expression immediately became guarded against it, and he turned his body as if to face his butler down. This time, Sebastian had no plan of coercing Ciel away from that place of wariness. He felt wary too.

"Earlier today, I explained to you that I was possessed by foreign magic," Sebastian began, looking the boy in the eye, "but the truth is, I never would have known that on my own, for I cannot even detect the foreign magic inside of myself. I knew I was changing, but I didn't know why. Not until someone else brought it to my attention."

Ciel grimaced in a mixture of uncertainty and fear. "What…? W-Well, who was it who told you?"

Sebastian decided to preface with a warning. "I thought I would wait to tell you this later, when it was perhaps a calmer day," he said firmly. Ciel had a reserved expression, like he didn't quite believe him. "Very well. I'll tell you now, but it may come as a surprise. The individual who has been helping me is Undertaker."

It did come as a surprise. "Undertaker?"

Sebastian offered a slow nod. "Yes, that's right. He was the one to notice I was transforming against my will — back when we went to visit his mortuary for our latest mission to the Queen, in April." Ciel's gaze slowly drifted to the side with recollection. "After you left the building, Undertaker explained he noticed the change in me and proposed that we try to uncover the reason behind this change together."

Ciel's chin jolted to face him again. "You were laughing at me!"

"No, no… Of course not, young master," Sebastian soothed, aching that Ciel could think so — that he had every right to think so. The boy still looked at him with injury and disbelief. Sebastian leaned toward him a bit. "Do you recall your order that I could not speak about you? Undertaker was the one to lead the discussion; I contributed very little. He suggested that I should be concerned about my aura — that is, the magical energy that all immortals possess — and that I should return to him later to discuss what this change might mean. He spoke about you hardly at all. And certainly there was no making fun."

"But you did return to him later, didn't you? And what then? Nothing would've stopped you from laughing at me then." Ciel had pressed himself tight against the opposite armrest of the sofa, distancing himself physically from both attack and affection, just like he had earlier that morning. His folded arms were clenched tightly into his stomach with displeasure, but Sebastian knew the boy was afraid.

"There was no laughing at you. There was never any laughing at you. I have not shared with Undertaker any details about your thoughts and feelings or behavior. That is your personal business, and I would not want him knowing." Sebastian looked at Ciel firmly to show how serious he was. "What did happen is that Undertaker introduced to me his idea that I am being hunted by another immortal who wishes to take your soul. He's had a few theories around how the foreign magic came to find me, and I have met with him at the mortuary periodically so that we may put those theories to the test. But so far, there are no surefire answers. All we know is that the magic is suspiciously weak and that it is likely from Earth, not from the realm of demons like myself."

"But why would Undertaker want to help you?" Ciel, understandably, had yet to move past that point. "And why… why does he even know about magic? Are you saying he isn't human either?"

Sebastian offered a single dip of his chin. "That is correct, young master. Undertaker is a retired Reaper."

"He's one of those things?" Ciel's heartbeat was only getting faster at this rate. He shrunk his head down into his shoulders. "How can that be? I've known Undertaker since I was a child… He even worked for my father… Has he always been a Reaper? Even back then? Would my father have known that?"

"Undertaker has likely been a Reaper for a long while," Sebastian explained, resolute, "and I couldn't tell you if your father knew or not. But you needn't be afraid. Reapers are not generally a danger to humans. The one who followed your aunt was a strange case."

"But Reapers hate demons!" Ciel said this almost like a scolding, as if Sebastian had to be stupid not to realize it. "That one uptight bastard infiltrating the circus wouldn't let you leave the tent unless you had a direct order from me. And Madam Red's butler was even capable of hurting you! Hasn't it occurred to you that maybe the Reapers could be behind this too? Maybe even Undertaker?"

Sebastian offered a soothing half-smile in the face of incredulity. He should have expected how quickly the young master would try to pin down a suspect — the boy was so comforted by answers. "Yes, I've had my doubts toward Undertaker too. I don't feel I can trust him totally… but I do not believe his assistance is a trick. I believe he has his own motivations for wanting to find out what is happening to the two of us. As for the Reapers, well… another one by the name of Othello seems particularly interested, from a purely scientific perspective, to know what is causing the change too. For these reasons, Reaper involvement in the foreign magic's infiltration does strike me as unlikely, even if it's not impossible. Especially when you consider how weak the magic is."

Ciel sat there, processing all this and looking miserable about it. Finally, his body sank down against the cushion, crunching it in half under his back. "I don't know what else we can do about this…" he whined, bringing his legs up onto the sofa too. "There has to be something you haven't considered, right? If the magic is weak… where is it coming from? You should be able to find it easily, shouldn't you? Why the hell can't you and two Reapers locate it?"

"That's the very question we've been asking ourselves." Sebastian smiled again, the corners of his mouth tightening, trying to illustrate that he knew well how distressing this all was. "You would think it would be easier, and yet the truth evades us."

Ciel put a hand on his forehead and clenched his eyes and uttered a long snarl that only built in volume before it abruptly cut off. A true display of frustration; again, Sebastian could empathize. "This is ridiculous. I don't know what to do. Why do we have to be so helpless here? Isn't there anything you haven't tried?"

"There are probably countless things I haven't tried," Sebastian offered patiently, as Ciel turned to prop his forehead against the tall back of the sofa and fixate sourly on its upholstery. "And again, perhaps you can leave the trying to me. I promise I'll continue to do my best to find out what's going on. And now that you know this much, I also promise to tell you when I'm going to visit Undertaker. I only hid it in the first place out of fear, first for myself, then later for you. Even now, I see how distraught you are. I hope I have not given you another burden. Just know that I will use everything in my power to protect you and our contract from anyone that tries to come between it. There is nothing more important to me than this."

Ciel was unmoved. Eventually, he grumbled, "If the magic can make you sympathetic, then maybe it could do the opposite and make you want to kill me too. Didn't you think of that?"

The boy was a fist clenched with frustration and anxiety. This was something Sebastian understood, and for once the knowledge wasn't recent. He had seen quite a few humans experience an existential shock after a demon came to them: suddenly their world was not so small and their idea of what could happen to them not so limited. In the past, this shock had only been a boon. A shocked human was very easy to lie to and equally easy to convince.

Of course, Sebastian couldn't lie. These days, he could scarcely even convince. It was hard being helpless.

But it wasn't quite as hard to be helpless together.

"I know it is overwhelming for you to feel that suddenly anything is possible," Sebastian murmured to his sulking charge. "And fortunately, the young master was clever enough to sculpt a contract that will terminate if I try to cause him harm. But listen to me, now. It will not serve you to imagine every terrible thing that could come to pass. Humans can easily get lost in their fears that way. And you, who is so clever and who has seen so much, could surely busy yourself for weeks imagining all that the foreign magic could do. But you and I both know that would not solve the problem any faster. And there is still a manor to clean and schoolbooks to read, meals to prepare and mail to answer. The future will always be uncertain, but the days will come anyway. We cannot let this mystery distract us from living."

Ciel didn't respond. He only kept laying there for another minute, before pushing himself back up and twisting his legs over the edge of the sofa again. He moved his jostled eye patch back into place and didn't look at Sebastian. "I know that… I shouldn't need anyone to remind me of that," he mumbled, and returned to eating the soup with his brow still slightly furrowed. "You can get back to cleaning then. I have a letter to open, and I don't need you looming over my shoulder and trying to read it for yourself."

---

It felt hard to be apart after everything the day had been. The hope that he would be summoned pinpricked at the back of Sebastian's mind all afternoon and into the evening. But Ciel was understandably brooding, cowed from feeling so weak and with much to occupy his thoughts, and Sebastian had plenty to do too. He looked patiently forward to the natural moment that their paths would cross again.

That moment came when dinner was served at seven o'clock and finished by seven forty-five. The main course of roast duck with chestnut sauce and simple mashed potatoes was given no complaint, though Sebastian had still chosen each item for their digestible properties. He lived to eat well, and so he treated everyone in the Phantomhive household as though they ought to feel just the same.

"I guess I'll be having duck more often in the near future," Ciel said when Sebastian came to collect the empty plate. "The Chambers invited the Midfords to go hunting in their marshlands a few days after Lizzie's birthday party, and I've been requested to join in. I'm sure Aunt Francis will make it some sort of competition between us, which means I'll have to bag a lot to keep up… Too bad, since I don't like the flavor of wild ducks as much as I do the domestic ones. They taste as murky as the waters they forage from."

Sebastian sniffed in amusement as he plucked the dish from the table. "I shall be sure to brine one half of your bounty and marinate the other as soon as it is brought home. And no doubt the servants would be happy to help eat whatever you cannot."

"So long as it doesn't go to waste. We can share some with Old Man Sam, too." Then Ciel frowned as he saw the empty space on the table before him filled with a baroness pudding, the plateau of its surface dotted with chopped dates instead of powdered sugar. He gazed up at Sebastian with half-lidded eyes. "Look, you… Just what sort of dessert is this?"

Sebastian slid a clean spoon to the side of the dish. "I would say it is the perfect dessert for someone still readjusting to proper nutrition."

"So it's a punishment."

"Hardly, sir — for the body, homemade food with quality ingredients is always a gift. Of course, if you prefer, you could go without dessert entirely…" Ciel only raised his lip slightly, like this was the most aggravating response that could exist, so Sebastian reasoned sighingly, "I will be sure to atone with chocolate and dairy again tomorrow, but please give yourself a continued chance to recuperate from yesterday's off-kilter diet."

Ciel prodded at the dessert with his spoon and glowered. Sebastian expected another rebuke or dismissal, but instead the boy raised his shoulders and blurted, "Fairclough invited me to visit him this coming Tuesday before he goes back to Oxford, and I've decided to accept."

The suddenness of those words served their purpose. Sebastian felt the stab of fear, and his eyes twitched wider. Ciel was looking back with an expression mixed between hesitance and indignation. Then, almost as if realizing the nature of the outburst was somewhat childish, the boy lowered his gaze and continued, "He deserves a proper apology after what you did to him. Since you aren't actually sorry, it's only right that one of us shows it."

"..." Sebastian struggled with what to say. He wanted to ask if Fairclough had put Ciel up to this. But that would have been a ridiculous thing for an untitled man to request of a noble. And Ciel didn't seem to be doing this out of worry that Fairclough would take the gossip about an unruly Phantomhive butler to the tabloids. This apology meeting was almost definitely happening because Ciel wanted to prove Sebastian wrong and punish him for keeping secrets.

But Fairclough was nothing but a bad influence. Sebastian felt it viscera-deep. His yearning for command of the situation surged through him like a wild current. A parent would stop this! A parent would control!

"The more you try to control, the less influence you have."

Then there was Tanaka's advice. And Tanaka had never been wrong before.

All this came to Sebastian in a matter of seconds. Still, Ciel looked at him as if he were taking too long to answer, and so Sebastian smiled kindly and bowed. "You are obliging to meet with Mr. Fairclough even though it goes against your own desires. I am fortunate to have the young master to speak on my behalf. I trust that he will represent me even better than I could represent myself."

Sebastian straightened and looked to see what this answer had earned him. A soft frown — well, it could have been worse. "Your feelings on Fairclough are obvious, so you aren't exactly convincing," Ciel grumbled, then continued with haughty pride, "but it's good that you've given up trying to stop me, because there's nothing you can do about it." He scooped a spoonful of pudding and studied it offhandedly from different angles, twisting his wrist and wrinkling his nose. "I may be more open to some instruction from you, but once I've made my own decision, you ought to simply support it. Good." The end of the spoon was enclosed in his mouth.

Ciel was matter-of-fact in his delivery, but he was actually giving Sebastian some useful direction here. Don't worry so much about his decisions… Just be there to support him whether they bring him failure or success. That sounded like an interesting direction. Sebastian could manage that. Most likely. Maybe with matters that didn't involve Fairclough…

"I guess this is passable," Ciel said after he'd swallowed that first bite. "Unfortunately, I'm too tired to stay up any longer, so after I eat this and you clean up dinner, you can come upstairs without making tea. If I drink it, I'll be too tired to brush my teeth afterwards, and I know you won't let me get away with that. And I don't know if I'm going to want to talk to you or not. We already talked enough for two weeks of nightly meetings just today."

"I understand. Then I shall see you again before the clock strikes half past eight."

Meanwhile, Sebastian was privately grateful that he'd be having a meeting of his own with Tanaka after the bedtime routine was completed. Ciel was going to visit Fairclough again! And soon! This was deplorable news. Could the infallible Tanaka know what to do here? Or would even he be stumped?

The bath had been managed earlier that day, so by the time Sebastian came upstairs at 8:20, all there was left to do was bring up the fire in the fireplace and put away today's wardrobe after Ciel had gotten into his pajamas, yawning all the while. As Sebastian prepared the bed for sleep, he too prepared himself to offer a final hope for a better day tomorrow, but Ciel proved himself a conversationalist after all. With the first of the covers brought up to his chest, the boy asked, "Something occurred to me that I somehow didn't think of before. Do demons even have parents?"

"... Oh!" A surprising but fair question. Sebastian finished tucking the boy in, but Ciel folded his arms over the top of the winter comforter and sat up a bit straighter, emphasizing his desire for a discussion. Thus, Sebastian sat down on the bedside. "Some do," he answered, and when Ciel made a face, guessed to continue, "If I ever had parents, I do not remember them. The ways of demons are not like the ways of humans."

"If you didn't have parents, how can you even be here?" Ciel said this with equal parts curiosity and doubt. His skepticism around magic and that which he could not access in a book was unwavering.

"Your world has many rules which the inhabitants of other planes do not have to adhere to." Sebastian hoped that wasn't an unnerving notion. Ciel, true to form, only frowned more deeply. "Life blooms in places humans cannot yet perceive. In the colliding of stars, for instance… or in the mixing of dense substances so rich and black your eyes could never distinguish them from the void of outer space. I imagine I was born from such elemental activity."

"But you don't know that for sure," Ciel reminded him crossly.

Sebastian conceded this. "Unfortunately, the ability to form memories was not something I was capable of upon my creation."

"..." Ciel looked at him, mulling this over, brow gently furrowed. "Well, either way," he said at last, "nobody raised you. Which begs the question: how are you supposed to know what being a parent feels like?"

"Ahh, so that is where you were going with this." Sebastian gave him a smile. Ciel only blinked, unimpressed and a little sleepy. "The ways that human parents and their children interact aren't utterly lost on me, young master. I see the similarities in our relationship, and I understand that what I do for you is akin to what a parent would do."

Ciel eyed him. "And what is that specifically?"

Sebastian could feel the tension in Ciel's soul, the small heartbeat picking up rhythm. As stoic as he appeared, the boy was apprehensive of Sebastian's answer. And he was likely still feeling tender from their conversations that morning and afternoon… Bedtime really wasn't the moment to be having this discussion. I will give a careful answer, for the moment. "Well… a parent would manage his or her child's health and safety of course… and emotions. At least until the child is old enough to manage these things for himself."

Ciel's frown held. "Are you only saying that because those are all things that I didn't manage yesterday?" he grumbled.

It would be false to say the fever, the knife, and the rebellion weren't at the forefront of Sebastian's mind. "It isn't the only reason I'm saying it."

Then Ciel's expression became more thoughtful. "But essentially what you're telling me is, you define adults as people who can manage those things for themselves."

Sebastian lowered an eyebrow. "Now, now, when did I imply such a thing?"

"It's basically what you implied." Ciel fixed him with that round-eyed stare, scrutinizing. "Health, safety, and emotions, huh? I never would've considered that to be your definition of an adult. Hmph. Well maybe I didn't do so well at balancing all that yesterday, but I've already managed those things for myself before, you know."

This only grew more bewildering. "I beg your pardon?"

Ciel stared at him. "During that horrible month, obviously."

Oh. Sebastian was blank-faced, and Ciel continued, "You can't even deny it, no one else could have done it for me."

Sebastian straightened up tall and placed his hands in his lap. "And would you like to tell me what that was like for you?"

Ciel's gaze hardened. He hunkered down into bed on his right shoulder, staring at the door. "No. I only want you to finally acknowledge the truth. That I'm already an adult, even by your own standards."

Sebastian shook his head slowly and stood to begin tucking the blankets over the boy once more. "The definition you requested was for a parent, and so that is the one that I gave you. Though it sounds as if that definition wasn't the one you wanted to hear."

Ciel's blue eye jabbed him again before the blankets could even be touched. "There isn't one I 'wanted to hear.' I already told you that I don't need a parent. I only wondered after your own personal idea."

"Ah, I see. And what did you think of it?"

"What do you think I thought of it?"

Sebastian resisted a sigh. I should really start expecting he'll return my questions every time I ask one, shouldn't I? "It strikes me that you are probably… dissatisfied."

Ciel closed his eyes and nestled into his pillow. "Hmph. I'm sure you always think I'm dissatisfied."

A small smirk pulled at one corner of Sebastian's mouth. "Well, even being called dissatisfied has seemed to have left you dissatisfied…"

Ciel's eyes opened again, halfway. He sighed, breath fluttering the hair that rested near his face. "Maybe I am always dissatisfied," he mumbled. A sudden flash of worry widened his eyes and drew down his brows — then it was gone. He glanced at Sebastian and then left his gaze to rest on the far wall. "I'm sure you think I'm dissatisfied with everything because I want to be. Well, you're wrong. It'd be easier if I could just be agreeable all the time, but I can't be any other way, so too bad."

It was almost spellbinding, the emotions Ciel let slip for mere blinks at a time before once again resuming white-knuckled control. Will every interaction give me so much to digest from here on? With a soft smile, Sebastian readjusted the blankets over his charge, offering him the covert chance for physical reassurance that Ciel could not yet bring himself to request. "I try to do my best to imagine how you are feeling, but we can only truly know when we tell each other. You need not be anything but what you are. Now, it's time for rest. I hope that we can work together to make tomorrow a more agreeable day. Good night, young master, and pleasant dreams."

He snuffed out the paraffin lamp and departed the room in the garish flicker from the hearth. He could feel Ciel watching him up until he shut the door softly. Oh, that child… Sebastian shook his head as he walked in the direction of the office. Never an easy victory nor a dull moment… He had to be on his toes every second or risk missing a key detail that could teach him some crucial lesson. Maybe it would be easier if the young master were agreeable all the time. But would Sebastian want it any other way? Not anymore.

Ah, but what a day! Sebastian could never have guessed this morning what paths they would tread, where they would ultimately end up. He looked forward to sharing all he could with Tanaka, who waited for him in the kitchen at the servants' table. But first Sebastian would stop by and collect the outgoing mail from the top of the young master's desk in the study.

Joining up with the cancellations Sebastian had penned to professors Hancey and Whitaker were Ciel's letters to Cavendish about the Christmas line, to the Midfords about hunting with the Chambers, and… the acceptance to Fairclough's Tuesday invitation. Sebastian felt anxiety like a violin tremoring on a high note to see Ciel's handwriting form the letters of that wicked name. Beyond the envelope was a confirmation that Ciel would enter Sedgemore House in a mere five days. He was going to go where Sebastian could not reach him, and there was nothing to be done.

Unless… the letter was never delivered in the first place?

Sebastian watched the hungry embers beckoning with thin orange fingers from the grate of the office fireplace…

"…"

Tanaka was already at the table when Sebastian arrived, with his customary Japanese-style cup cradled against one gloved palm. Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finny were already in bed; they had a special, impromptu mission tomorrow, one that would require getting up early for a trip to London. At least Mey-Rin and Finny were very much looking forward to it — Bard had only sighed, "Well… maybe it'll be a good chance to get out of the house, so long as it doesn't rain." It was almost certain to rain. Since he must go in my stead, perhaps I will hold back my personal misgivings for once and tomorrow morning prepare him his favorite "black strap" coffee in that horrid way of cowboys…

Sebastian sat down across from Tanaka, unsurprised to see the elderly servant's smile was as warm as the steam clouding up from his tea. "There we are at last," Tanaka bid him. "Now you can sit and enjoy the fruits of your labor, at least until the sun rises anew."

Sebastian laughed lightly. "Very true," he simpered. "Tomorrow is another day, another chance for more mistakes. At least for now, there is peace."

"For now, there is peace." Tanaka took a long sip of green tea from his cup and lowered it again. "Then tell me. How did it go last night and today?"

Sebastian knitted his fingers together on the tabletop. "I think it went about as well as it could have gone. But that is owing to the young master too. He had a right to be angry at me after I embarrassed him, but he ultimately decided he was willing to accept my help. If he'd really wanted to, I think he could have kept up his stubborn resolve for another day… though his health had taken a small turn, as you know, so I'm grateful he didn't allow it to get worse than it already was. He claims he has not accepted my apology for what I did to Fairclough, but it seems he has accepted my care again. With that allowance, I shall continue to try and redeem myself."

Tanaka was unruffled. "How quickly these things can circle around. A day of pandemonium and then a return to normalcy. It is to be expected where young people and their fleeting emotions are concerned."

"Yes, quite apt… But new pandemonium is on our hands already. What I dreaded most is coming true," Sebastian said, and Tanaka's mouth turned up in curiosity. "Fairclough has already sent an invitation for the young master to return to Sedgemore House on Tuesday. Even if I was wrong to accuse Fairclough of harm, any reasonable person would have been daunted by my threats. And here he is, acting as if it isn't completely audacious for a middle-class man like himself to invite a noble to visit, let alone under these circumstances. The young master shows his pragmatism to overlook this breach of status, but I can't help but vilify such boldness. Fairclough should fear our household."

Pensive silence was Tanaka's initial response. Then he ventured slowly, "What exactly did you say to Mr. Fairclough that should make him fear our household? If the threats were so very terrible, I would be surprised that the young master would be invited back. Perhaps they were not as pointed as you make them seem?"

Sebastian considered this. "It's true that I did not directly threaten his life… but I did accuse him of attacking the young master and told him he would 'regret it' if he tried again. This was only after I had entered the room and corralled Fairclough ten feet away from the young master, using my body to steer him. Fairclough was clearly bewildered. He had no idea I was listening in; as you know, my hearing is quite sensitive. So when I thought he was about to attack and I moved in, it surely came as a total surprise. The idea that Fairclough doubts I would try this again… Even if the young master reassured Fairclough that I would not be invited back, I'm unnerved by this fearlessness. Why would he find the young master's company worth all this trouble? What does Fairclough want? Perhaps wealth or status? But he has connections to men like Lord Sedgemore and enough money to dole out hundreds of pounds without batting an eye. Something about him isn't right. What if he is no better than that mafioso Aristocrat of Evil who kidnapped the young master two years back?"

Tanaka was no longer smiling. He continued to quietly digest. His tea was forgotten. Then, "The young master accepted Mr. Fairclough's invitation as of today. Have you taken the mail to the postbox yet?"

"I have not."

"Is the letter still in the young master's study?"

Sebastian paused. "It is not…"

"Then the letter must be on your person. Correct?"

Sebastian hesitated, then sighed. He reached inside his tailcoat, extracted it, and held it out. "It is here. I must admit, I sincerely thought about destroying it. Ultimately, I realized how foolish that would be… but the thought crossed my mind. I also considered reading it. These same feelings haunted me with Fairclough's letter that arrived this morning. It has taken all of my willpower not to act. It feels as wrong to deliver these messages unquestioningly as it does to read them." Sebastian's gaze tightened. "I fear that both action and inaction are not without serious consequences here. It is a stalemate."

The ticking of the clock filled the room with a sense of impatience and passing time. Tanaka did not know impatience. He pinched the letter very gingerly by the corner, as if he were being handed a pressed flower that could crumble to bits, and gathered it into his gloved hands. He turned the envelope over and looked at the seal; studying it for tampering, Sebastian imagined. Tanaka's old eyes fixated on it for nearly a minute before he at last seemed assured in his evaluation.

"It is very important that the young master has your trust," he said slowly. He held the letter between both his hands and tapped it once against the tabletop and looked up promptly. His words had a professional clip as he continued, "I believe it would be ideal if the post was handled by Finny and I from now on. He can bring it inside, and I will deliver it to the young master's study. You can even give Finny a satchel to carry it in, if you think he might drop a letter otherwise. This way we can both rest assured that the young master is receiving everything he is supposed to receive, and you will not have to feel the responsibility of managing Mr. Fairclough's correspondence."

Sebastian felt a momentary surge of terror, but reluctant acceptance was fast on its heels. I suppose now I am the one who is being parented… "Very well; it may be for the best. I shall keep away from the post, unless the young master instructs me otherwise, of course. But what are we going to do about Tuesday?"

Tanaka offered his own question. "What is it that Mr. Fairclough has done for you to suspect he may be dangerous?"

Sebastian sighed out his nose, loathsome. "Well… other than the aforementioned lack of fear at my threats, he has been very supportive of the young master's idea that he is already an adult. Then there was the time that Fairclough spoke French instead of English in front of me, as if he didn't want me to discern what he was saying. And he also offers the young master wine…" Sebastian trailed off, aware this didn't sound very suspicious.

Tanaka's response was a placating smile. "You are very protective of the young master, and I am more grateful for it than you know; I am no longer the samurai I once was." Tanaka paused to sip his tea. His eyes were filled with unwanted wisdom, but still he fixed Sebastian with what looked to be assurance. "I trust you to make sure the young master stays safe, no matter what situations arise. Therefore, I hope you can trust me in return to handle the mail."

It was a little bit of an odd promise, but Sebastian only nodded his head politely at the senior steward. "Yes… Yes, of course I would trust you with such a thing."

Tanaka paused, then gave a soft chuckle. "Very good, very good. At least for the moment, all is well." He stood to go to bed. "So now we both may rest. Good night to you, Sebastian."

"Ah, of course. Good night."

But all wasn't well. Tanaka did not know about the double-edged sword that was the foreign magic; how its existence both granted Sebastian his parental nature and acted as a threat to his child by merely existing. Now Fairclough was outside of his grasp… and the young master was nearly as flighty toward his parenting attempts as ever.

"The more you try to control, the less influence you have."

The more he lost control of everything around him, the more Sebastian could only hope it was true.

---

"Young master, if you are looking for chocolate, you aren't going to find it in there."

It was the following morning at eleven a.m., and Ciel had chosen to pay the kitchen a surprise visit. Bard, Mey-Rin, and Finny were off to London for the day, and Tanaka was in the servant's office, which meant Sebastian was the only one currently in the kitchen. Ciel ignored his butler's words and continued his beeline for the larder, just like he had two nights ago. The coincidences didn't end there: a moment later, Ciel emerged with two pearmains in hand and dropped them both on the worktable across from Sebastian.

"Show me how to cut this the proper way," he demanded simply.

Sebastian had been in the midst of preparing veal knuckles to make the white stock for poultry gravy. There was blood and remnants of raw meat on the pale gloves he used for food preparation. "Ah. You would like to learn right this minute, sir?"

Ciel propped a hand on his hip. "If you can't, fine, but I might just go searching for chocolate after all."

"Just give me a moment to wash my hands, then. Just one moment."

Soon, they were situated at the opposite end of the long table, away from the meat mess, with clean hands, a clean station, and a clean knife at their disposal. Sebastian held the blade above the clean pearmain. "First, I begin by placing—"

"Just a moment." Ciel held out his flat palm from across the table in a halting gesture. "I said show me, but I didn't just mean show me." He nodded in the direction of the knife block on the counter behind Sebastian. "I want you to go about it while I follow along. Go get me a knife too."

Sebastian frowned. "Tanaka wasn't speaking falsely the other day, my lord. I keep those knives exceptionally sharp because I am mainly the one who uses them. They are not knives for a beginner. One could cut clean through your finger if you weren't careful enough and that'd be that."

This warning garnered no interest. "Come off it, Sebastian. I've been handling pistols and rifles since I was ten years old."

"A knife is not a gun." But Ciel had a point. Sebastian took a glance over his shoulder at the black handles protruding from their wooden block. There was one knife Sebastian allowed Bard to use for preparing spices, and though its edge was not much more dull, it somehow seemed the best one to put in the boy's unpracticed hands. Sebastian selected it, changed his hold to the top of the blade, and walked back to offer out the safe end across the table.

Ciel reached for it, and Sebastian repeated, "A knife is not a gun, but regard it cautiously all the same. It is a tool designed for chopping and slicing. It will not differentiate between the apple and your skin."

Ciel's eyebrows were lowered, uncertain if Sebastian was lecturing him or respecting him right now. He held the knife with his entire fist wrapped around the handle but steadily, carefully.

"First, we must correct your grip." Sebastian picked up his own knife to demonstrate. "Pinch the base of the blade between the pad of your thumb and the side of your forefinger. Use your remaining three fingers to wrap around the handle. This grip will give you stability and control. With time, it would also give you accuracy and speed."

Ciel did as instructed. "Interesting how my fingers seem awfully out of the way."

"They are. It is the fingers on your other hand that require minding." With his left hand, Sebastian plucked up the apple and placed it directly in front of him. "Before you begin to do anything, note the placement of all your fingers. Make sure they are always out of the blade's reach. Only then should you begin cutting. Understood?"

Ciel set his jaw, holding back irritation by a thread. "Yes."

"Then take your apple and steady it on the countertop like so, with your left-hand fingers positioned on the side of the fruit that you aren't going to cut. Keep all of them close to the top of the apple, where they can be seen and not forgotten. Only then can you take your knife and press the edge of the blade to the right of the stem."

Even when annoyed, Ciel was a good pupil. He copied Sebastian's poses, settling the knife offside the stem for its first slice. But then, "So, you don't cut the apple straight through the middle?"

"That's correct, sir. This way we can avoid the core."

Ciel hunched over the pearmain, a little embarrassed. He was likely thinking of his display in the kitchen a few nights ago, how even his successful cut through the apple hadn't been the proper method, hadn't proven what he'd hoped.

A distracted mind was not one that should be handling a knife. "Are you ready to make your first cut?" Sebastian asked mildly, to ground the boy.

The impatience was gone now. "Mhm."

"Very good. Then, simply slice right through."

Sebastian went first, then Ciel. The quality of the knives made it effortless. Afterward, Ciel looked up at him as if it hadn't been worth all the pomp and circumstance. Sebastian continued, "Good. Now do the same with the opposite side of the apple. But there is less to hold onto now and less of a base to keep the apple steady, so the placement of your fingers is especially crucial. Hold it like I am… exactly. Now place the blade… good. And slice again."

It took four cuts to leave the core standing as an unappetizing square peg, perfectly fit for a pig's trough, if the manor had kept any. Instead, it was set aside for composting with the garden waste. Four semicircular quadrants of pearmain flesh, two large and two small, sat in front of each of them now.

"Next, you simply cut into slices of your desired size," Sebastian said. "Keep the tip of your blade steady on the tabletop and use your left hand to push the apple under the knife between slices, like so." He accomplished this at a fraction of the speed he would usually, keeping the knife in one place and using his left hand to move the apple under the blade as it rose and fell. "And, again, always pay attention to your fingers."

Ciel worked even more slowly, which Sebastian was glad for. The boy cut the quadrant into fairly large wedges, which Sebastian was also glad for; larger slices meant less cutting. But of course, the second Sebastian looked down at his own work, the very instant— "Ouch."

Sebastian jerked up his head and placed his knife aside in the same instant, panic flurrying in his chest like a flock taking wing. What did Ciel cut, which part of his hand, would they need to summon a doctor, was the entire finger gone… But his reeling senses were halted in their tracks to see Ciel looking back at him, entirely deadpan.

"Just kidding," the boy said.

Of all the…! After a stupefied moment, Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated, relieved, distraught. "Young master, really… Have you no sympathy for my nerves?"

"What nerves? You shouldn't have any of those." Ciel was already back to slicing.

Sebastian drooped. "Even so, to lie about such a thing…"

Ciel finished chopping the first segment of apple and reached for the next one. "Well, at least I didn't hide that I've been meeting with Undertaker in secret for an entire half a year."

Sebastian's head jerked up again, but this time Ciel wasn't looking at him. In fact, the boy continued as if he hadn't said anything about Undertaker at all. "This really isn't so hard. It makes me feel like I could slice an apple for myself any time I wanted. But I don't think I want to eat another apple again for a long time…" The flush came back to dust his cheeks, thinking of how he'd tried to make a meal out of six pearmains, how poorly that had gone.

"... Perhaps I can turn them into a more appetizing dessert later today," Sebastian said carefully, going back to his own chopping but leaving his eyes to rest curiously on the boy — cutting off a finger was no risk for a demon. "I can leave them in lemon-water so that they don't begin to brown."

Ciel finished the second segment and moved onto the third. "Let's bring them to the horses instead. Since it's been cold, I haven't gone to greet them in a while."

When they finished a few minutes later, Sebastian gathered the slices into a ceramic bowl and followed behind the young master through the tack room to the stables. Sysonby had heard them coming and whinnied his malcontent before they were even in sight. "I know, I know, calm down," Ciel shushed the hackney horse, moving over to the huge dark head that snorted and whuffed vigorously. "I know it's been a while. I'm here now. Mind your manners."

Irish and Avalon peered out curiously from over their stall doors too. Ciel touched each nose in succession as he passed them. "Hello, you lot," he muttered nonchalantly, and then returned to Sebastian to collect a few slices from the bowl. He paused. "You two first," he decided under his breath, and fed Avalon and Irish at the same time, holding out his palms flat so they could easily lip up the fruit. Syson was straining for his own turn. "And then you, brute, but behave yourself first." Syson grunted but surprisingly did calm down, and only then did Ciel walk over and offer the treat.

"Bard's been training him to be a gentleman again," Ciel explained offhandedly as he scratched at Syson's huge cheekbone. "I didn't mean to nurture this rivalry in him by spending the majority of my time in the paddocks with Avalon, but that's exactly what happened. And now he needs to relearn who's in charge…" Ciel held a piece of fruit out of Syson's reach until the horse proved he could stand steady. "… sort of like you do."

Sebastian sniffed a sound of mild amusement. He moved to stand next to his young master and offer more fruit from the bowl. "You could see it that way. Or you could say that perhaps you and Syson need to practice working as a team."

Ciel didn't respond or look at him. He fed Syson another pearmain slice and scratched at the place beneath his horse's long dark forelock.

"Young master, I'm sorry that I didn't talk to you about Undertaker and the foreign magic sooner."

Ciel's mouth tightened only a fraction. He kept scratching at Syson's forehead. "To be honest, it's the one detail that's making me a touch less angry at you. Not the fact that you kept it from me, but that you had no choice but to go see Undertaker. It makes it clear that you never really wanted this either."

Sebastian tipped the bowl down as Ciel reached to take from it again. "That I never really wanted to feel parental toward you, you mean."

That earned him a hissed, "Don't say it so casually! What if somebody heard you?"

The mention of the foreign magic hadn't elicited such a response, though. "I would not speak so easily if anyone else was within earshot. This I promise." Agitated regardless, Ciel walked a wide path around him to give more treats to Irish and Avalon. Sebastian turned to keep facing the boy. "If the fact that this transformation was outside of my control can help you to tolerate my new nature, then I shall consider that a bonus. But you are right about one thing. This is happening irrelevant of what you and I want. We can only try and embrace this strange opportunity, since it sits in our laps as it is."

Ciel glared at him sidelong. "I don't know if we should see it as an opportunity. It may not be your doing, but it's demonic all the same. Foreign magic, Undertaker, Reapers… It's too strange. None of it is worthy of my trust."

"Nor mine," said Sebastian, "and yet here the two of us are, in this situation that, apparently, neither of us wanted. Now, you could go on fighting it. But I know you are a very thoughtful young man who considers his world like a chessboard. There is plenty to be gotten out of this situation, if only you give it the chance to be considered."

"What, like a surrogate parent?" Ciel finished handing out the apple and kept petting Avalon's snout with unsteady hands. "I've said it a hundred times, it's not possible for me to want to be looked after anymore."

Sebastian went down to one knee with an abruptness that forced Ciel to look at him. "Young master, I cannot speak to what you want, but when you consider all the things you mentioned — the foreign magic and the Reapers and the confusion that we both feel — I hope you can see how clear it is that we need each other now more than ever."

Ciel lowered his chin and glanced away. "I already told you, I'm not going to play child…"

"I don't want you to play child," Sebastian said firmly. "I want you to be exactly who you are. And I will be exactly who I am, and if we work together, maybe we can come out the other side of this mystery all the better for it."

The horses nickered curiously around them. Ciel chewed his lip subtly and seemed to be digesting Sebastian's words.

"Sometimes a miracle happens," Sebastian said then, reaching inside his jacket, "and our wants and needs coincide." He took his hand back out, the wrapper of a Funtom's milk chocolate bar shimmering mutedly in the dim of the stable. "I said that if you were looking for chocolate, you wouldn't find it in the larder," he said to Ciel's surprised expression, "but not for the reason you might have expected."

Pensive, Ciel reached for it slowly, then flinched his fingers back. "If I eat this, you won't let me have any dessert after dinner, is that it…"

Sebastian only continued to extend the offering. "Today I shall make an exception. I've known you long enough to see that sometimes what you need to lift your spirits is a special treat without repercussions. Eat it whenever you please."

The paper crackled as the chocolate was exchanged hands. Ciel frowned as he held it, rubbed his thumb across his company's name. "I promised you I'd try to be more agreeable with you the other day…" he mumbled, embarrassed, fragile. "So… I know when to admit that you're right… that I need you to… help me sometimes." His body tightened like he was horribly ashamed. "But I don't really understand what you need from me, because I can't tell if my soul is your motivation anymore."

It wasn't surprising that they'd have to have this conversation more than once. Ciel had always struggled to accept his youth, that he required a parent, and would probably continue to struggle with it for a long time, so Sebastian said carefully, "What I need is the same as what you need. I need to see your health, safety, and emotions tended to when you cannot manage them yourself. If you allow me that much, then I am satisfied. I don't need you to approve of me, agree with me, or want me nearby. I just want you to be well."

Ciel's fist clenched around the candy. "That's really all?"

Sebastian raised his eyebrows with pointed surprise. "Well, that is so little all of a sudden, is it? There have been far more arguments regarding your emotions and health than there ever were over your soul. And yes — your soul is still a motivation of mine, and it always will be. There is nothing I won't do to keep it protected."

"I already know you'll protect it. But when I attain my revenge, you're still going to eat it, right?"

If only Sebastian didn't have to. If only there were any other option, anything that would allow the boy to keep the soul for himself. To grow up not just into a young man but a man, live his life to the end of where it was predestined, not cut short by a demon's hunger. That round face staring back at him with one large blue eye was a beacon of possibility. Why should all that possibility not be preserved? Sebastian was a denizen of the cosmos: eating souls did not keep him from death but rather from weakening to the point that he could not use powerful magic or make contracts, or to the point that he was at risk of being killed by others of the immortal realm, and he had time before that happened. Why not simply let the boy live out his days beyond the revenge they had yet to acquire?

Because that would violate their contract.

"Yes… my lord."

It was the answer Ciel wanted. The boy's posture loosened, his gaze drifting to the side with the loss of tension. Then his gaze went up higher and changed from a strained look to one of confusion. "Hold on. Where are Gilbert and Merrylegs?"

Sebastian stood up again, brushing at the knee that had touched the stable floor. "I imagine they are with the servants in London."

Ciel flinched. "Huh?!"

"Watching the latest Starlight Four show, that is. I had them all go to a matinee concert and bring back with them as many records as were available — as well as take notes on the singing and dancing performances that they'll witness today."

Ciel was still flabbergasted. "You sent all of them to a Starlight Four concert again?! Why did you do that?!"

A slight bow. "Because of Lady Elizabeth's birthday party, of course. You told me that I will be expected to perform on the piano, as I did at Miss Reubin's party, did you not? If that is the case, I ought to learn as much as I can about the singers' latest show. No doubt Lady Elizabeth's friends will be expecting only the most up-to-date fare."

"But why did you send those three? Why didn't you just go yourself?" Ciel bleated.

"Because I don't want to leave you unattended right now." Sebastian tucked his arms behind his back and looked down at the boy with light fondness. "If you needed me, I did not want to be far away. Not with the confusion of the foreign magic so recently on your mind. And I'm glad I didn't go — for then I would not have had the opportunity to show you how to slice a pearmain."

Ciel glanced down at the chocolate bar in his hand. He frowned. "If you hate to leave me alone so much, were you planning to secretly get as close to Sedgemore House as you could on Tuesday too?"

"Not if you didn't want me to." To his detriment, Sebastian couldn't resist adding on, "I really do wish you would allow me to wait nearby, just in case of an emergency."

At that point, Ciel had had enough. He looked more weary than angry, but still he brushed past Sebastian in the direction of the tack room. "Last time, you were the emergency in question. The only place I want you is here, far away from Fairclough."

That was the answer that stung the most to hear. It gnawed at Sebastian all throughout the weekend, in between chores and listening to Starlight Four records and watching Finny and Mey-Rin hop around trying to recollect the performance. Sebastian never ceased to hope that maybe, just maybe, Ciel would change his mind about visiting Fairclough. But Monday night came, and with it the resolute acceptance that this visit was absolutely going to happen.

"I'll be there," Bard promised that evening as he and Sebastian shut down the kitchen together. "Young master already told me I'd better not go outside the stable, though, so… dunno if I'll be much of a guard. But I'll be keepin' my eyes and ears out for any funny business. Mark my words."

Sebastian still spent the rest of the night racing around the manor grounds and through the hallways, trying to work out the endless fear surging through him. He was no closer to feeling reassured by sunrise. But then, by the grace of the universe, a miracle occurred, and what he wanted and what he needed happened to coincide just hours before the carriage was set to depart.

"This is your doing, isn't it, damn demon?"

Ciel was standing up behind his desk, one hand on the wood, the other waving a letter in the air. Sebastian had just been summoned to the office, having no idea what to expect, though perhaps an angered young master was not so unexpected at all. Still… "I do not know, young master. To what are you referring?"

"This! " Ciel shook the letter one more time, livid. Sebastian was earnestly surprised, and it must have shown in his expression, because Ciel finally gave a bitter sigh and plopped back into his armchair. "Fairclough says here that an emergency situation arose yesterday afternoon at Weston and that he had to return to Oxford on the first train of the morning. I only wondered if you had anything to do with it."

An emergency situation at Weston? This is truly what they call luck! Sebastian hid his relief behind his poise. "It was not my doing. I did not know of it. It is likely that Fairclough is not making an excuse and this truly did happen."

"I only hope you aren't making an excuse either…" Ciel drummed his fingers on the desktop. He sighed again and looked away. "Tch. Damn… I was hoping to prove to you I was right about him once and for all. There goes that opportunity…"

"I am sorry, sir. I know you were looking forward to your meeting. Though, yes, I will admit I'm not entirely disappointed," he added after Ciel shot him his most cutting 'judgmental adolescent' face. "Perhaps the day will be better spent relaxing before Lady Elizabeth's birthday party anyway. I know too many social calls in succession tend to leave you worse for wear."

"Let me be the judge of that." Ciel hunkered down in his chair, sulking. "Go make me something warm to drink."

Sebastian was appropriately subdued in front of the young master — but oh, the spring in his step once the door was to his back! Suddenly he was made of air and lightness. Fairclough had left London! There would be no seeing that blight today, or tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, no having his boy's head (and stomach) filled with silliness. As Sebastian went about his daily chores, he hummed a bouncy Starlight Four song about a crater on the moon filled with sugar-water and girls' tears. What a miracle to find you with my telescope, So no more tears, don't lose hope… A miracle! That was exactly what it was!

That was exactly what it wasn't. But Sebastian would not be able to embrace the full scope of that non-miracle for another handful of days.

---

The signs were there on the day of Lady Elizabeth's birthday party, October the fifteenth. It was not her actual birthdate, though it was close to it, and thus must have been the more accessible day for Elizabeth's bevy of friends to visit her manor.※ There was little that Elizabeth loved more than playing host — though there was one joy in particular that stood a head above the rest, and that was wearing an outfit that she had deemed "cute." But Francis Midford had declared that her daughter had spent enough money on fashion over the summer and that she wasn't going to be allowed any more expensive purchases for the rest of the year, as she simply did not need them. Thus, Lizzie had appealed to her fiancé.

Ciel hadn't seen an issue, at first. "If she wants me to buy her clothes for her birthday present, that's perfectly fine with me. I hate it when she tells me to surprise her, after all. I'm no good at choosing gifts myself." And so Ciel had written Nina back at the beginning of September to request a Starlight Four-inspired ensemble in time for mid-October.

Nina had long bore the title of "the tailor who announces the seasons," but recently she had also become "the tailor who outfits the Starlight Four," which had only served to amplify her popularity with girls who had yet to come out in society. Even with the social season well over, Nina found herself a very busy woman, and wasn't shy about saying so — but she of course could always make room in her schedule for darling Elizabeth Midford.

And apparently that wasn't all she could make room for…

"I should've known!" Ciel cried upon seeing the package Sebastian brought to him on Sunday the twelfth, Nina's enormous signature adorning the Breton-striped box in huge, looping cursive. "She just can't resist when those gears get turning in that fashion designer's brain of hers! Once she makes something for Lizzie, she just has to make something for me too! Damn it all! I don't want to wear it!"

"You certainly don't have to, if you don't want to," Sebastian had offered. But alas, Elizabeth's new dress had already been sent to her, and Nina had spoiled the surprise. Lizzie knew Ciel had an ensemble to match her own. Ciel had little choice but to wear it.

The boy was very sensitive about how he appeared in public these days. He and Sebastian had been wary to see what Nina had concocted in this case, as the stage costumes worn by the Starlight Four were clearly inspired by royal military fashion. Gold epaulettes and passementerie bedecked their spotlessly white coatees, fringed with brilliant red, purple, and blue collars and cuffs, respective to each member of the group — except for that of the member Greenhill, whose costume lacked sleeves entirely in order to show off the musculature of his bare arms. It was all flash, all grandiosity. And fortunately, those stage costumes were probably already too similar to the outfits that Nina had designed for Ciel and Lizzie over the summer to celebrate the Trooping the Colour, because what they received this time was truly more "starlight" than it was "Starlight Four."

The morning coat itself was a deep night-black, but the inside was lined with rich navy silk printed with shining gold constellations. The right sleeve of the coat appeared to separate elegantly at the cuff, in reality simply exposing a triangle of the constellation lining, giving the impression that space was rending the hem apart. A silk puff tie was patterned just the same, boldly set against a white dress shirt. Nina usually did not concern herself much with the design of long trousers, as she found traditional men's ware to be "uninspiring," but in this case she had made an exception: the inside seam also appeared to peel back, curtain-like, towards the opening of the leg to reveal more of the star-silk. It was as if the entire universe lurked just beyond an impossibly dark veil.

The waistcoat was a champagne-colored cotton blend that at first glance appeared to be unremarkable. Upon closer inspection, the fabric bore a raised geometric pattern in a curious interlocking of semicircles and lines, repeating ad infinitum. Sebastian wondered at the design of it only while he buttoned the waistcoat. When he was finished, he was swiftly distracted by Ciel stepping away to look at himself in the dressing room's floor-length mirror. The boy rotated this way and that, held out an arm from his body. He was frowning.

Sebastian stood tall again. "Is it to your liking, young master?"

"Maybe. I don't know." Ciel was solemn, resigned to his fate. "It could be much worse."

"Yet it could be better?"

With a final sigh, Ciel stepped away from the mirror, striding past Sebastian. "I just don't like feeling like a display object."

Lady Elizabeth could never dislike feeling such a way. Her dress was a rich navy that shown with gold iridescence, thanks to the use of two differently colored silks for the warp and weft. The dress's elegant cowl sleeves were draped at the shoulder but tight at the wrist, except where it too appeared to unravel and show the same star fabric. The lapels of her jacket matched, and the bodice underneath was identical to Ciel's waistcoat, that curious design of semicircles and bars. A starry ribbon tied her hair back in a coif, and the ribbons' ends arced through the air, along with a pair of long gold earrings resembling halves of a scale balance, as she turned to greet Ciel when he and his butler entered her parlor.

Sebastian caught on to the theme when he saw the jewelry. Of course: Lady Elizabeth's astrological sign was libra. The earrings and the pattern on Ciel's waistcoat were meant to reflect that symbolism.

"Oh, don't you look a-dor-a-ble!" she crooned as she scampered over and locked Ciel in a huge, warm hug. She released him to next grab at the hem of her skirt. "Your gift is wonderful, absolutely perfect! Isn't Nina just a visionary? I shall be so excited to wear this to my next Starlight Four concert! I'll be the envy of everyone! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"S-Sure," Ciel stuttered, distracted as he'd noticed the other early guest who waited plaintively by the cabriole sofa. He dipped quickly at the waist in greeting. "Er, Miss Reubin, it's good to see you as well."

Jane Reubin had stood politely upon their entrance, but her smile was wan. "Good afternoon, Lord Phantomhive. I'm sorry for not being more excitable. I'm trying to get my spirits up, really."

"Oh, Jane, dear, it is my birthday, and so I permit you to forget your woes for just a few hours!" Lizzie skipped to her friend's side to take her hand, clutching it in both her own. "There will be time to fret later. For now, you must allow yourself to feel a little joy! You've well earned it."

Jane looked at the floor, unsmiling. "I will try, Lizzie, really. When the other girls arrive, I'll laugh and forget myself as best I can."

"I am still early, then?" Ciel asked. "I know you said you wanted me here before the others…"

Lizzie nodded emphatically. "Oh, yes, Ciel, you arrived just when I asked. Jane is simply here before you because she's staying with us right now, actually. Lyle fell suddenly ill, and his parents traveled to Weston to visit him. Instead of letting Jane remain by herself with no one but the domestics for company, I thought it would be much more pleasant if she came and stayed with us."

"Oh, but Lyle isn't just ill!" Jane made a small sobbing noise. "And I was just beginning to think everything would be fine… Then we received the news on Monday." The area beneath her eyes seemed to grow darker. "Lyle ran out of his classroom right in the middle of a lecture, and when an older boy caught up to him, Lyle fainted. Then when he came around in the infirmary, all that he would say is that he needed to be taken home at once. I know this is it. He's going to be removed from college a second time and then I'm never going to find a husband!"

Jane covered her mouth, tears starting in her eyes, and Lizzie patted her shoulder, hushing, "Now, now, you mustn't think of it! It will be sorted, you'll see."

So Lyle Reubin was having trouble again… Sebastian set his jaw, looking down at Ciel to see his shoulders were taut beneath his jacket. There was no knowing what had frightened Lyle in this case, though the introduction of the new mystery did resolve an old one: this must have been the "emergency situation" that had sent Fairclough scurrying off to Oxford first thing Tuesday morning.

Jane wiped her eyes with a handkerchief and collected herself. "I must stop thinking so selfishly. It is your birthday, Lizzie. I would so hate to ruin it."

"You haven't ruined anything!" Lizzie seemed well ready to restore the festive atmosphere, though. She gestured at Sebastian. "The party hasn't even begun! But now Ciel is here and plus, our own maestro Sebastian will make certain that the music never stops!"

Sebastian put a hand to his chest and began to bow. "Of course, Lady Elizabeth. Your guests shall —"

"Hmm! Will he then?! I'm not so sure! "

All heads turned abruptly to the parlor door at that slightly delayed and exceptionally silly proclamation. Edward stood framed in the entrance with his hands on his hips, eyebrows ducked fiercely, chest lifted high and proud.

Ciel squinted at him with an opposite posture. "Uhh…"

"I've heard tell of your butler's aptitude for the piano, Ciel." Edward strode forward with long, bombastic steps until he reached his wary sister's side. "I was told he played a mere handful of Starlight Four songs at Miss Reubin's party. But!" Edward jabbed his finger into the air. "The Starlight Four now have a total of sixteen original songs! Are you going to be— ACK! "

Edward's tirade was cut off when Elizabeth abruptly elbowed him in the arm with typical Midford gusto. "Edward, remember what Mother said! If you start bothering my friends, then I'm allowed to ask you to leave!"

"I-I'm sorry, Lizzie, but it's for your sake!" Edward blathered, rubbing vigorously at the spot she'd struck. "You know I only want the best for you! But Ciel isn't even a real supporter of Starlight Four! How could his butler possibly be one?!"

Ciel had managed to collect himself from the boisterousness of the scene. "And since when are you a 'real supporter' yourself? I thought you hated the Starlight Four."

Edward stuck his nose in the air. "Tuh! I was just… misguided! Really, how could I possibly hate anything my sister loves, hm?! Lizzie's taste is impeccable!"

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "All right, Edward, you've made your point. Please stop giving Ciel and Sebastian such a scolding."

Ciel turned over his shoulder. "Plus, I bet you know all those songs anyway, don't you?" he said to Sebastian.

This was spoken with a rather bored intonation; Ciel still wasn't keen on giving his butler a chance to show off, but apparently proving Edward wrong was incentive enough to invite the opportunity. With a confident look that was meant to be comforting but seemed to reassure Ciel not at all, Sebastian stepped around the boy and held out his hand in invitation. "Lady Elizabeth, if I may implore you?"

Elizabeth blinked up at him. "Eh? Implore me? Of course, but…?"

Sebastian smiled. He took his hand back and placed it on his chest as he bowed forward slightly at the waist. "The flames in our chests…" he began the mantra.

Elizabeth, Edward, and Jane all gasped aloud. Lizzie curtsied hastily and supplied, "Sh-Shine brighter than the sun! "

"We are firebirds! " the two of them declared in unison, before holding out their arms like gull wings and crooking one knee in the air.

"W-W-W-W-Whaaaa?! " Sebastian heard Ciel yelp from behind him. "W-Wait! What are you both doing?! What is this…?!"

"It's the firebird pose, of course!" Lizzie stood back on both feet again as Jane and Edward applauded their approval. "It's a special greeting that Starlight Four fans can use to find each other! And if Sebastian knows it, then he must have been to one of their recent concerts!"

Defeated, Edward hung his head. "Sebastian… I'm sorry that I doubted you. It's just that I only want the best for my sister at her sixteenth birthday party… Especially since the Starlight Four never responded to the invitation I sent them…" He hung his head and clenched a dramatic fist.

Of all things, I wasn't expecting him to apologize to me… "Er, it is quite all right, Master Edward."

Lizzie flounced over to Ciel, who was still wincing with the shock of what he'd just witnessed. "Ah, but Ciel, if you don't know the pose, that means you didn't go to the concert too! Why not?"

"I-I didn't have any time…" Ciel mumbled his words to Lizzie, but it was Sebastian he looked at with mortification bright in his eye. Sebastian cocked his head in question, and Ciel only glared back, now fully contemptuous. He is ashamed… of me? I did not behave the way he wanted, then?

Lizzie reached for Ciel's hands. "No matter, we'll just have to teach you now!"

The boy clamped his arms to his sides with militaristic stiffness. "Ack! I-don't-want-to-learn-it!" he squeaked.

"Oh, but it's only for fun! Come on, first you raise your arms—"

With impressive speed, Ciel retreated hastily backwards and positioned himself behind a chair, gripping the top of it with both hands. "No! Absolutely not! Don't grab me! You won't make me do it!"

Edward shook his head. "Hmph! And on your betrothed's birthday too! What a shameful fiancé you are! He isn't even worthy of doing the firebird pose, Lizzie, forget about him."

"Wh-What the hell is a firebird anyway?! Isn't that just a phoenix?"

"No, silly, they're something entirely different! Firebirds are beautiful animals that fly around the solar system and live on the sun."

"What do you mean live on the sun?! Nothing can live on the sun! H-Hey, g-g-g-get away from me, I said I'm not going to do it and that's final!"

With a last look in his boy's direction, Sebastian paced over to the piano and pretended to warm up on the keys with a few eloquent scales. To these simple notes, his audience eventually settled down and chatted amongst themselves, with even Ciel soon feeling comfortable enough to abandon his stronghold and sit with them. But other girls began to arrive within the hour, and with each one who joined in, the energy and noise of the room grew, until Ciel's voice was no longer among the speakers at all. Sebastian played light parlor music to stimulate conversation, sensing the boy's soul located against the back wall. Many of the girls had shown off their best firebird poses to each other, so it wasn't very surprising that Ciel wanted to avoid what was apparently the height of embarrassment.

Elizabeth was so busy enjoying the company of her friends that she didn't seem to notice Ciel's distance. Edward didn't notice either: he was regaling school stories about the Starlight Four to a highly interested trio. At first it struck Sebastian that Edward might be enjoying the attention of so many young ladies, though after listening to him for some time, it occurred to Sebastian through Edward's tone that he was in actuality speaking with genuine pride in his old school friends.

It was only after her brother proudly recounted that he had been Greenhill's fag for the fourth time that Lizzie seemed to decide enough was enough. Sebastian saw the twinkle of her sleeves from the corner of his eye as she approached his shoulder to say, "Sebastian, if you would please play us 'Shining Star'? I think we are all ready for a change of pace."

With a smile to show his obeisance, and with the small stirring of personal pride he always felt at the chance to flaunt his skills, Sebastian poised gloved fingers over the keys for only an instant before letting them bounce and bound their way through the opening chords of the exuberant song. It took mere seconds for all independent conversation to cease and all nearby voices to join together in declaration, "Say goodbye to that cloudy sky, and open your eyes to a sky full of stars! "

None of the girls missed a single word; it was as intrinsic as a hymn might have been a hundred years ago. Edward's voice seemed to come in at single lines and then fade out again, proving he hadn't yet become fully fledged in his Starlight Four appreciation. And of course there was the one voice Sebastian knew never join in even if its owner had had the lyrics memorized…

Until nearly the end of the song, the majority of voices behind Sebastian were strictly feminine. But then, at the final line, a particular masculine voice joined in. "Me! You! The stars! The sky! Together, we become one sphere! "

Elizabeth clapped her hands together when she heard him. "Oh, Prince Soma! There you are, you've arrived at last! Hooray!"

The other girls had stopped singing to vocalize their surprise at the newcomer, but Lizzie had anticipated his arrival and could only be excited. A little deflated but certain not to show it, Sebastian transitioned into a mezzo version of the previous song that would fade into the background more easily. Behind him, Lizzie continued her greeting. "I'm so glad that you could make it! Welcome to the party!" she cheered.

"Of course! It is your birthday after all!" Soma's words were all merriment. "Why, just look at your dress! Amazing! You look like starlight itself!"

"Oh, it's wonderful, isn't it? It's all thanks to Ciel! He's the one who had Nina design the outfits for us!"

"Eh, Ciel is here? Where—? Ah, over by the wall of course! Where else for a wallflower but the wall!" Soma laughed loudly. All the girls were whispering in curiosity about the prince's arrival, but above it, Sebastian made out footfalls and a "Hey—! " as Soma must have grabbed Ciel by the hand to tug him out into the room. "Little Mister Lonely Pants loves to be all by himself, but it's rude at a party, don't you know, silly Ciel! Come out into the room with everybody else and mingle!"

"Knock it off, let me go! I'll stand wherever I want to!" As usual, Soma had found a way to immediately get on 'his best friend in all of England's' nerves within a minute of his arrival. "I don't like loud music going right into my ears! I can appreciate it better from over there, so let me do as I please!"

"Oh, boo! How are you supposed to ask anyone to dance if you stand so far away?"

"I wasn't planning to ask anyone to dance!"

"Speaking of dancing, Soma," said Lizzie eagerly, "in your last letter, you wrote that you had been learning some of the Starlight Four dances, didn't you? Which songs? We can have Sebastian play them and you can show us what you've been practicing!"

"Eh, Sebastian's here too? Ah, so he's the one at the piano! He follows Ciel everywhere, doesn't he?"

When he allows me, at least. Sebastian tried not to appear too bitter as he nodded a greeting at Soma over his shoulder, continuing to play.

Ciel was immediately opposed to that description. "He does not follow me everywhere! He's only here to provide the music. I would have happily had him stay at the manor where he belongs if Lizzie didn't request him."

"Wow, so he can play piano too! I guess Sebastian is good at just about everything, hmm?" Soma chuckled. Unfortunately, not everything… "Well, Miss Lizzie, since it is your birthday, you should choose whatever song you like next! I've been studying all the choreography, so it doesn't matter which you pick."

"All the choreography?" Again, Edward's disbelieving voice cut in, though there was more surprise than disapproval this time around. "The choreography for sixteen songs? And how did you possibly study it? That information isn't written down anywhere, is it?"

"Eh, written down? I don't learn dancing by reading about it. I pay attention to what I see and then I practice it later, that's the only enjoyable way. You always have something funny to say, don't you, Miss Lizzie's brother?"

"M-Midford! It's Midford!"

"Ugh, Edward, I told you to calm down! Oh, Sebastian, would you please play us 'Midnight Tea Party' now?" Lizzie called from her short distance away, eager to keep the celebration in full swing, and Sebastian obliged her at once.

He had no view of the ensuing performance, but judging from the way his audience gasped and then cheered, Soma must have had an unexpected talent for dance. The cheering was even louder at the end of the song, and Edward surprised Sebastian again by saying, "M-Mr. Prince Soma, y-you're—! You're really, really talented! Amazing!"

The other girls applauded their agreement; clearly the dance had swiftly taken their curiosity towards the prince and turned it into enthusiasm.

Soma's response was unexpected. "I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I was often told as a child to hide my love for dancing, so I would only practice it in private. It's been more fun than you can imagine to dance for others! Especially since I was taught that the British in particular would have no tolerance for it."

"You would be right if you were referring to my mother and father," Sebastian heard Patricia say haughtily, and a couple girls chimed in their agreement. "But we are forward-thinking young women, and I believe we should see the new century in with more open-minded ideals. And who could be more dedicated to innovation than the Starlight Four!"

Clapping and cheering erupted. Lizzie clamored, "I couldn't agree more! Sebastian, play us 'The Dreams of Girls are Made of Cotton Candy and Marshmallows' to celebrate!"

So Sebastian launched into the next song and again the girls began to sing boisterously behind him. Edward asked, "Do you think that you could teach me how to dance like that, Prince Soma?" and Soma chuckled, "Only if you'll promise to simply call me by my name! There's no need for embellishment all the time."

The room was a swarm of sound, of vibrant melodies, of singing, of laughter, of humanity. It seemed to whirlpool all around the one creature who wasn't human, and left one boy alone outside the swell, just the way he wanted to be. For Ciel, it was all too much noise, too much excitement. Still, Sebastian could not help being a little pleased when his careful ears made out a conversational voice above the jubilee.

"My heavens… I have never seen such a… curious party in all my life."

Ciel startled. "Oh, uh, Aunt Francis! G-Good afternoon." It must have been hard for him to notice anyone approaching over the din, especially from his right side.

She greeted him back before continuing, strained, "I see we are in agreement about the music… It is not exactly my taste either. But it's certainly captivated my children and their friends, for one reason or another, so I won't say no to it, today of all days."

Ciel made a little noise of disapproval. "Hmph. I don't understand it at all. It's too fast. I don't know how anyone makes any sense of it."

"Nor do I. What is Edward doing…? Never mind, I won't pretend to understand. I'll just be happy he's spending time with another young man his age, as he hasn't been able to see many of his school friends since graduation."

"And I'll just be happy Soma has someone to cling to that isn't me. This party isn't exactly my definition of fun…" Ciel seemed to realize that might earn him a rebuke and tacked on swiftly, "N-Not that I'm not glad to be here, really. I just don't have as much… energy as everyone else."

Francis was benevolent and didn't scold. On the contrary: a smile entered her voice. "You've made Lizzie a happy girl today. I should have expected as soon as I told her she would have no more allowance for clothing that she would find a way around it. But it is her birthday… and I suppose she isn't really a girl anymore. Sixteen…" She trailed off as if suddenly struck with nostalgia. Then she added, "Ah, the both of you match, don't you? I see that now."

"I didn't really expect to, but Nina had her own plans…" Ciel sighed as if the experience of dressing up wearied him. "I guess I should just be grateful that Nina's apparent expansion into jewelry didn't extend to me. Lizzie's earrings look heavy… I couldn't wear anything like that from my earlobes even if I wanted to."

"… Oh." Despite being surrounded by a chorus of girls, Sebastian's perfect hearing noted the change in Francis's tone. She cleared her throat. "Those earrings… aren't from Nina. Actually, they're… well, they're from your mother, Ciel."

"H-Huh?!" Sebastian was surprised too; he nearly missed a note. "From my mother? How…?"

"I was given those very earrings as a gift soon after Lizzie was born," Francis explained slowly. "Rachel was always very interested in star alignment and astrological… fare. I believe the scales are representative of a symbol related to Lizzie's birthdate. They were… They were too heavy for my liking as well, but as you can see, I kept them anyway, all these years. I recalled them recently, since Lizzie and Edward like these Star Four performers so much. And so, I passed them onto Elizabeth this morning. But it's occurring to me now that I should have offered them to you first, Ciel."

"Huh? Eh, n-no, that's fine, really…" It was Ciel's turn to clear his throat. "If I had them, they would simply have to sit in a box… It would just be a waste. It's better that they stay with Lizzie. And they were yours to decide what to do with anyway."

"Perhaps. But I don't imagine you have many mementos of your parents. It would not be toward of you to feel the few that remained should belong with you."

"No… I'm not the sort of sentimental person who needs a physical reminder to remember who someone was…" Ciel more mumbled than spoke.

There was a pause before Francis offered, "Your late mother and Lizzie are not so dissimilar. Rachel too liked material possessions, though her interests weren't so much in fashion as they were in…" Francis paused. "Natural trinkets? I'm not sure how else to describe them. She collected unpolished gemstones and seashells and insects trapped in amber. When it came to jewelry, she preferred it relate to the stars and weather. She was an… eclectic soul, I should say. Meanwhile, Vincent was quite interested in finery, though not for himself. When a guest showed earnest delight at some object in his home, he was known for sending it to them days later. Much like you, he did not keep himself attached to many objects."

"Er, I know," Ciel said. "I remember that, too… I thought you hated that about him."

"Well… It certainly left me exasperated," Francis sighed, with the old spirit of sisterly annoyance in her voice. "His ways didn't always make sense to me… But no, I… did not hate that about him. Not really." Another span of quiet, then, "I'm sorry. This is not the right locale to be having this sort of conversation. I must remember myself better."

"Eh, no, it's…" Ciel trailed off, lacking certainty.

The song ended at that moment. The girls cheered, and Francis said, "When I have the time, I shall look and see what more I have lurking in drawers and boxes; it may be that I even have some of Vincent's belongings, which you may be more interested in. But I do believe our conversation is about to end here. It appears that I've overstayed my welcome."

There was hardly a moment before Francis's meaning was made clear. "Oh, Mother, you're here… do you need something?" Lizzie had approached the pair with hesitance in her voice.

"I only heard the music and looked in to see Ciel was standing by himself," Francis defended herself, but patiently. "I thought I'd engage him in conversation a little and keep him company."

"Well… thank you," Lizzie was stiff in her politeness, "but please, Mother, would you remain in the room with the refreshments, like I requested? My friends don't want to be watched when they're singing and dancing. It's making them feel self-conscious. Please, Mother?"

"Very well." Francis's inflection was stiff too, but clearly she had prepared herself for Lizzie's disapproval and kept her temper in check. "I will leave all of you to your frivolities. Goodbye for now, Ciel. If I do not see you again today, I look forward to hunting with you on Friday."

"Oh, r-right. Goodbye, Aunt Francis." The boy's tone sounded just as hesitant as before.

There were a few seconds in which the two children must have waited for Francis to leave through the door on the room's west side, for eventually Lizzie supplemented, "I'm ever so sorry if you were enjoying talking with her, Ciel, but I had to send her away. It's just so embarrassing to have a parent present at a birthday party at our age."

---

"Young master, is there anything you want to talk about tonight?"

"No, I already talked enough today. I'm too tired. I just want to get ready for bed and go to sleep. Don't try to spur me into conversation, because I'm not interested."

"… Of course. I understand. Perhaps tomorrow, then."

"Or perhaps not. Just leave me alone. I need to think, all right?"

"All right, young master."

"And are you going to visit Undertaker while I'm asleep?"

"No, sir. I promise I will tell you whenever I plan to meet with him."

"Well you didn't tell me for months, so you're going to have to put up with me asking you anyway. It's what you deserve."

"I see. I understand."

Sebastian had anticipated there would be some repercussions after revealing the truth of his parental nature, but they were going through a rough patch nonetheless. Even if their initial conversation about the foreign magic had gone adequately, Ciel had to come to terms with the reason for their changing relationship in his own time, and that could take a while. It stung to watch his boy recede from him… and it was sad to know Ciel's silence. Before October, their nightly meetings had become something consistent and solidifying for Sebastian. To have Ciel now look at him with narrowed eyes as if feeling every conversation were an opportunity for some freshly poisonous fact to be revealed was painful. Were they closer now than ever or not?

Sebastian had to fight every impatient impulse to coax Ciel to talk to him about his emotions. He knew Ciel had to choose it for himself, and Sebastian had all the patience in the world for that choice. What he felt far more anxiety towards was the idea that Ciel would not let himself choose it. Had their meetings up until this point been enough to instill trust? Did Ciel truly understand that Sebastian was an ally now? Or maybe such a thought wasn't fair. The foreign magic sat as an indestructible wedge between them. Until that mystery was solved, it was possible Ciel would remain wary of him… and Sebastian would just have to bolster the weight of that fact.

Friday was to be the day of the hunt in the Chambers' forests. The conservatory windows were dappled with rain that morning, which Ciel remarked upon glumly as he ate his vitalizing breakfast of oeufs au plat bressanne. Sebastian had prepared a cinnamon-and-clove-infused black tea to help encourage a lasting feeling of warmth before they set out. As the dark liquid arced like a satin ribbon from the spout, Sebastian heard a distant clamor elsewhere in the manor.

"It would seem the telephone is ringing," he announced as he put the cup on the table.

"Mm?" Ciel swallowed, then looked in the direction of the door, as if pinpointing where the sound was coming from, even though his hearing wasn't strong enough to pick up on it. "Maybe the hunting party is getting called off for the weather. I hope so. Though the Midfords would never concede defeat to a light rain…" Ciel frowned, probably wishing that they would.

"Damp and cold does make for an unseasonable hunting day. I can't say that I have any objections to your lack of enthusiasm," Sebastian said, a comment that, as usual these days, only succeeded in winning him Ciel's annoyed glance. At this point, Sebastian understood that he'd just have to accept opening his mouth in the first place would be the thing that cost him, unrelated to what came out of it. Well, I suppose that is not necessarily anything new…

"Maybe it's Cavendish," Ciel proposed after a sip of tea. "October is a pretty busy time for our candy sales… We've done a fair job in the past marketing the idea of chocolate with Halloween and cinnamon with harvest celebrations, but even without that work, people already found the fruit pastilles a popular choice for malt wine and cold remedies. And it seems we only make more sales every year, so I informed Cavendish to be sure we're even better stocked than ever. Everything will sell well through December, after all…"

Only a minute later, Mey-Rin scurried through the conservatory door with a flustered air, one hand touching at her ear. Her countenance was not unusual, but her appearance during breakfast certainly was, and Ciel had no disapproval for her arrival, only curiosity.

"Beggin' your pardon, sir," she said with a quick curtsy. "Only thought to let you know that Master Edward called a moment ago. He wishes to speak with you as soon as you're available, he does."

Ciel's eyebrows drew down and together. "Is everything all right?"

"I-I believe so? Master Edward was rather harried, though. But not in a way that would be, er, out of the ordinary for him, I presume." Mey-Rin paused. "And you… may wish to keep some distance from the earpiece when he answers, yes…"

Ciel bore this advice in mind when he went to call his cousin in the office half an hour later. "Edward, it's me. Simply speak normally when you talk and tell me what's going on."

"REALLY? ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN HEAR ME? "

Sebastian could discern those words without extra effort from his position five feet back, and Ciel grumbled, "They can hear you in Edinburgh. Now what business do you have?"

"Ah, well… I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I'm the only left in the house to do it," Edward began, his tone abruptly more serious. "It would seem that Lord and Lady Reubin returned to their home last night with Lyle. Miss Reubin received word this morning, and she, Lizzie, Mother, and Father departed shortly after breakfast for Norsham. It was a sorry scene… I can't say I have much of a hunting spirit left after watching them go."

"Oh. I see…" Ciel's wish had come true, but not in the way he'd wanted. He was temporarily at a loss for words. Then, "Do… you know what happened to Lyle?"

"The letter didn't say. That's why Mother and Father left. They want to offer their support to Lord and Lady Reubin, especially since… well, perhaps you've begun to hear the rumors circulating for yourself, but Lord Reubin isn't making enough of a profit from shire taxes anymore. He has taken to selling parcels of land to make up for it… Even Father purchased thirty acres out of compassion, but such practice isn't sustainable forever. The Reubins are already in a precarious position in society. My parents are planning to learn the true story about Lyle's return so that they can help to stop any false gossip from spreading."

"No, I hadn't heard about the Reubin's finances… I don't tend to put any stock into gossip myself." Ciel's tone was airy, uncertain. "When… When do you expect everyone to return?"

"Tonight at the soonest. More likely tomorrow. Norsham is at least a four hours' drive; it would be a difficult journey there and back in one day."

"I see… Then, would you please let Aunt Francis know that I would like to speak with her as soon as she as able? Over the telephone is perfectly fine, I don't need to see her in person."

"Yes, I'll tell her." Edward paused. "Er, Ciel… Perhaps the hunting is off, but I still plan to visit the Chambers today. Their litter of springers are just around a month in age. Five of the seven are male, so… I'll need to narrow it down, if I decide I want one in the first place, that is. Their personalities are only just beginning to show, but… well, might you be interested in joining me?"

Ciel huffed out his nose. "I already told you, I don't have any time for a puppy right now."

"I know. I only thought you might like to see them anyway, or to give your opinion on which I should choose."

"Oh… No, if we're not hunting, there's… other things I ought to do instead. I'm a busy person." Ciel sounded hasty, like he wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible.

"Suit yourself," Edward sighed. "In that case, I'll have Mother call you tomorrow then."

"Right. Goodbye."

Ciel placed the telephone back in its cradle and stood there for a moment with his fingers still resting on the handle. When he did turn back to Sebastian, an unexpected look of distress was there. "What do you suppose happened to Lyle this time?" he asked.

Sebastian gazed back, momentarily touched to see such honest fear, something that Ciel had surely been safeguarding from him since last week. He offered a sad smile. "I don't know, young master."

Ciel's fear hardened into concern. He folded his arms, the Watchdog once more. "It must have to do with the threats he received at his previous college… Something came up to frighten him anew. But what? Why now? What's going on?" The boy put a hand to his chin. "What was bad enough to send him fleeing from school again? "

"That is the question, isn't it?" Sebastian tilted his head to the side. "Your aunt will hopefully have an answer for you tonight or tomorrow. Until then, we can only wonder and worry."

Ciel stood there, staring off in thought for another moment, before drawing back his shoulders and striding past Sebastian. "Well, I've never been fond of worrying pointlessly, and I'm not going to sit around wondering when I have no means of coming to a conclusion. If the hunting is canceled, then I'm going to get something accomplished today. And it looks like you'll need to come up with a new dinner plan yourself, so get to it."

And there they were, back to avoiding the heart of the matter… Ciel said he did not wish to worry pointlessly or sit around wondering, but it was evident throughout the day that that was exactly what he was doing. Sebastian noticed it when he came to bring first lunch and later tea to the office, the distraction consistently clouding the blue of Ciel's eye. Both times Sebastian lingered, but he didn't force a discussion — he let Ciel decide what he wanted, and what he wanted for now was to be left alone. It was only after dinner that Sebastian decided to prod.

Ciel was lounging in the library, attempting to distract himself with a recently published children's book about an infant girl who had washed up on the shores of Maine and was being raised by a lighthouse keeper. Laura E. Richard's curious premise didn't seem enough to hold him: his arm hung over the edge of the sofa with his thumb wedged into the spine to hold his place while his gaze strayed elsewhere. That gaze fell on Sebastian when he entered with the trolley at eight o'clock.

"Good evening, my lord." The boy didn't alter his recumbent position as he was approached, other than to let the book slide from his hand. The fire ambered his wary features, sunk the shadows on his face deeper into gloom, giving him an appearance fittingly like a jack-o'-lantern. "Though it is a little early in the season, I've brought orange cream for dessert, accompanied by an oolong tea brewed with leftover peel. Since we did not need the Seville oranges for any wildfowl gravy tonight, I thought it would be better not to let them go to waste."

Ciel took the saucer and placed it on his stomach, sipping lazily at the tea without taking his head from the pillow that propped it up. "It's fine so long as it's just for tonight and not tomorrow too. I don't care for citrus all that much."

"Of course, young master." Sebastian placed the dessert on the coffee table beside the sofa, the golden-white fluff of the cream nearly overflowing from the inside of the hollowed-out orange that had been fashioned into a bowl. A spoon was placed atop the plate it was served on. As he leaned down, Sebastian said to him, "If you would like to talk before bed tonight, you know I am always available to listen."

Ciel paused mid-sip, then glared from over his teacup. "I know," he snapped. "If there's anything I know about you these days, it's that you always want to talk to me. Sometimes I just want to think on my own, all right?"

"I'm relieved that you know," Sebastian said, folding his arms behind his back once he returned to his station by the trolley. "And if it's solitude that you desire, of course you may have it. I only wanted to remind you that I am here, since it's been so long since we had one of our nightly meetings. And it seems that you have a lot on your mind today…"

"No, not really. Just the same bloody thing over and over and over again." Carefully, Ciel shifted enough to switch the teacup and saucer to the table and the dessert plate to chest. He lifted a heaping spoonful of orange cream to his mouth and ate it still reclining. Swallowed. "As soon as Aunt Francis tells me what happened, I can move on from this whole business."

"Regarding Lyle, you mean."

"Obviously."

"But are you going to simply 'move on from this whole business,' young master?"

"…" Ciel paused, then attended to his dessert. "I don't even know why I care so much in the first place," he said after a big bite. "It doesn't affect me. It's not my business. It's just… I only think…" He paused again and snarled. "Ugh. Fine. Maybe if I tell you about it, I won't have to keep mulling it over endlessly… I only think whatever it is Lyle had happen to him this time, it wasn't really anything to worry about, but he's decided it is. And leaving school is absolutely ridiculous. He was fortunate enough to be accepted a second time! He's ruining all his prospects to be anything respectable, all because he wouldn't listen to me and tell anyone who threatened him." Ciel grabbed the orange with one hand to steady it and scraped the inside aggressively with the spoon for another huge dollop of cream.

"This has left you very agitated, I see," Sebastian decided to note.

"Because it's stupid!" Ciel yanked the teacup from the table and took a hasty gulp. "I mean that in more ways than one. Lyle's behavior is stupid, but so is my obsession with it. I don't know why I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all day. I just want answers. Aunt Francis can't telephone soon enough."

He calls his thoughts on Lyle 'stupid' and is unable to cease ruminating… "Hmm. This conversation is beginning to sound rather familiar."

"Ugh, don't say that," Ciel groaned. "Demons and their damn memories! I don't remember what conversation you're referring to, so it's not fair that you should get to."

"You don't remember?" Sebastian prompted. "I won't elaborate if you truly do not wish for me to, young master, but it was a very important conversation, at least as I saw it."

Ciel's brow furrowed as he chewed on another overflowing spoonful of dessert. Sebastian watched him try (or try not) to recall the conversation they had back in March about the Shrove Tuesday party, but the boy's old words about Lyle came to Sebastian as easily as anything. "Well, what he said was, 'Maybe I got kicked out on purpose, because nobody believed me when I said I was in danger.' And the way he looked at me when he said it, I knew that he really had been in danger … And the way his eyes were, it reminded me of… of myself, when I was younger, I mean. The way he spoke mostly though. And it… It's stupid, but he made me… jealous."

"All right, fine, I remember," Ciel said, somehow managing to hunch even deeper into the cushions. "But this isn't about… you know… I don't envy Lyle anymore, this isn't about that. I'm only thinking about how stupid it all is. Or maybe it isn't. I don't know yet. That's why I need to hear from Aunt Francis, because I can't really say if it's stupid or not until she tells me why he left school." With a reverberating clatter, the plate with a now-empty orange skin was deposited on the coffee table and the teacup was seized from it again.

Sebastian did not really think that the empathy or jealousy towards Lyle was gone, even if Ciel seemed determined to believe they were. The young master had always felt a connection to the younger boy's plight. He had when he first met Lyle at the Shrove Tuesday party in February, and again at Jane Reubin's party over the summer, and then even expressed nervousness to meet with Lyle a third time at the Funtom Convention. "I was jealous that he could just get out of whatever trouble he was in by acting like a little child," Ciel had told Sebastian over half a year ago, his insight so crisp and clear when he truly gave himself the chance to feel. "I'm mad at my parents, and I'm mad at the London police for not being able to find my captors, and I'm even mad at Lyle, who's got nothing to do with any of this — I'm just mad because he was complaining when he wasn't even in as much danger as I was!"

"Anyway, that's all. You can go away now." Ciel thrust out the teacup. "Refill this and then leave me alone. I don't want to see you again until I'm going to sleep."

Ciel had no more to say on the matter at bedtime either, but Sebastian knew it wasn't over. He knew the future held certain turmoil, as a lighthouse keeper could sense trouble when he noted the tide receding farther and farther from shore. It likely didn't matter what Aunt Francis said tomorrow: whatever had happened to Lyle, Ciel was going to reflect it upon his own circumstances. Sebastian looked out at this horizon with both trepidation and curiosity for what lurked just beyond it.

---

The telephone rang on Sunday at eleven o'clock in the morning. It rang once and once only: Ciel had been waiting attentively in the drawing room for this very moment. Sebastian was not with him this time. He had been showing Finny how to water the roots of the log fern that lived out its days beneath the steepled glass roof of a Wardian case. When he heard the ring, he hesitated in the middle of explaining to only use water that had been boiled first and thus almost allowed Finny to over-saturate the plant's delicate ecosystem. It suddenly occurred to him how humans made mistakes so easily at their work — even a mild distraction could hold great power.

There was no invitation to listen; thus, Sebastian became the one left to wonder and worry about what was being spoken between aunt and nephew. But he did not have to wonder for long. When the summons came only forty minutes after that fateful ring, Sebastian fell resolute: it was time to see for himself what flotsam this latest storm had washed upon their shore.

His knock was preceded only by a somber, "… In."

Ciel hadn't left the drawing room. He was tucked into an armrest of the same camelback sofa that they had not so long ago sat upon together to discuss Undertaker's knowledge of the foreign magic. He had his legs pulled atop the seat, his forehead and body leaning into the couch's tall side. His eyebrows were knitted, and he didn't look up when Sebastian entered, either because he was lost in thought or because he was purposefully avoiding eye contact.

Sebastian closed the door behind him with a soft click and decided to sit at the sofa's opposite end. He waited patiently for Ciel to speak.

It took a few seconds, but when the words came, they were without fanfare. "Lyle hasn't talked to anybody since he came home. All he wants to do is lay in bed. His parents still don't believe he's in danger because he won't tell them what happened. They summoned a doctor who diagnosed him with hysteria." Ciel's delivery was straightforward but strained.

"… I see." Sebastian looked at the boy, who seemed more interested in analyzing sofa's stripes than looking back. "That seems a sad situation."

"…" Ciel sighed out his nose and folded his arms into himself. "Why do you think Lyle doesn't tell his parents who threatened him?" he mumbled eventually. "I mean… I know he's afraid… But…" His eye tightened. "Lyle isn't hysterical… He knows why he's acting this way… If he just told his parents who threatened him, or about whatever happened this time that sent him out of school, then they would do something about it… and then his life could go back to normal, just as he wants… So why doesn't he just tell them?"

"… I think you answered that question for yourself, young master," Sebastian returned in the same soft volume. "I think Lyle is afraid."

Ciel squeezed his lids tight. "I know, I know, I know. But he said so himself, he's afraid his parents will still hate him even if he tells them the truth. But does it really matter? His current behavior is already making them hate him because they don't understand why he's doing this."

"You believe that Lord and Lady Reubin hate Lyle, then?"

Another sigh, heavier now. "I can't see why they wouldn't hate him. Nobody wants their son to behave like this…"

Sebastian paused. A thought was dawning on him. "Nobody wants their son behaving in… what way specifically?"

Ciel put a hand to his forehead. "You know, just lying around all day… Screaming and crying and pitching fits… Refusing to do what he's supposed to do… Obviously, nobody wants that." When Ciel opened his eyes again, Sebastian could glimpse the uncertainty in them. The boy did not seem aware of the comparison he himself was making, only that his words were stirring up his own sadness.

"I see." Sebastian propped one elbow on the top of the sofa. "And you think Lyle would stop behaving that way if he were to explain to his parents who threatened him?"

"… Maybe. Probably. What would he have to be afraid of anymore? I mean, only unless…" Ciel stopped short and snorted. "No, it would be fine. Lyle only thinks his family would hate him if he told the truth, but they wouldn't, they just wouldn't. They're a normal family, they aren't involved in the underworld, Aunt Francis said that much herself. Things like this don't happen to them. Lyle can go back to living his normal life if he does the right thing and tells Scotland Yard who threatened him. This mess is for people like me to clean up, not him."

It was becoming more and more clear what Ciel was feeling. Sebastian nodded along. "But Lyle doesn't tell them, and so he causes his own suffering, is what you are inferring."

"Yes! He's just being ridiculous!" Ciel fidgeted now, sitting up a bit straighter, raising his shoulders a bit higher, curling a bit more into himself. "He doesn't think about it, he doesn't see, how easy everything could be for him if he just…" Ciel ran his fingers through his hair. "If he just told them… If he just told them… then he'd see it would be fine, so someone really ought to make him. And yet, nobody has bothered to! I mean, Lyle did tell his parents someone threatened him, right, but then when he didn't say who or why or anything, they just didn't think to make him reveal it! And that's so stupid! Can't they see how obvious it is that he's afraid and he just needs to be… He just…"

Ciel's hand had formed a fist around his hair. He remained still, only his eye wavering and his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath.

In his mind, Sebastian saw the boy who laid in bed.

The boy was small, and afraid, and desperate for love he did not know how to ask for. Something was indeed wrong with that boy — but only because something wrong had happened to that boy and he didn't know how to say it. How did such a conversation begin? How did thoughts and feelings become words that wouldn't be rejected? And so the boy said nothing. He only continued to lay in bed, in fear, and push away the possibility of rejection; the possibility that there was no love in the world for a scared child who laid in bed. But the boy still needed love, and so he still craved it, in a deep, dark, unspoken part of himself. And so he continued to lay in bed, in misery, in hope, that someone could see what it was he needed.

That boy could have been Lyle. But that wasn't the boy Sebastian saw in his mind.

He moved closer on the sofa cushions. Only a little. Only a foot. He faced Ciel, and he looked at Ciel, who deliberately did not look back at him. And he said to Ciel, "Young master, perhaps Lyle isn't ready to tell his parents about what happened. Perhaps this is what he must do first, in order to receive the attention that he so dearly needs."

Ciel made a small noise in the back of his throat. "But he's just acting like a silly child," he snarled weakly.

"Maybe Lyle isn't acting silly at all," said Sebastian. "Maybe he's only acting like a child. Or… maybe he is only acting like himself."

The room was quiet but for a lullaby of clock gears ticking and logs snapping.

"Young master, Lyle will be all right." Sebastian did not touch the boy, but he reached his hand out across the top of the sofa to shorten the gap between them, so close, close enough for Ciel to sense it with his ears and eyes that were downcast in rejection. "It may take time, and it make take pains, but it will likely unfold as it's meant to unfold. We know Lyle isn't hysterical. Eventually, his truth will find its way to the light, one way or another. The boy I'm more concerned about, the one that I'm always most concerned about, is you. Because I know you feel a connection to Lyle, and I know that means when you think of him so completely, you are also thinking of yourself."

Ciel's breathing came faster. He was terrified of being understood, but he did not put a stop to it either.

"And it's all right," Sebastian said, in a tone of firmest love, "if you too need to lay in bed, or pitch a fit and get cross with me. It's all right. I won't mind, and I won't hate you. I know you will talk with me again when you're ready."

Ciel's breathing halted.

In the wild, animals had many ways of communicating between species. Through smell, through sound, and certainly through sight. A wolf that was hunting, for instance, had a very different posture than a wolf that was passing through, and the deer they hunted knew that. When deer spotted a hunting wolf, they would flee; but when they spotted a wolf who was simply walking to its den, they would observe but remain as they were, knowing that their energy could be preserved for real danger.

That was what Ciel's tense posture reminded Sebastian of now, as they sat there for minutes in a row, silent and present with each other: of a prey creature waiting, watching, to see if the wolf was either hunting or returning to its pups.

Or maybe Ciel was trying to gauge if the wolf-shape on the opposite end of his sofa was actually a dog.

"… Go away," Ciel whispered at last. "I need to think."

Sebastian nodded. "I shall leave you alone then."

"Mm."

He stood, and he left.

Of course Sebastian felt the anguish of leaving the boy by himself, again, as he was always instructed these days. But there was a bit of hope in his chest now too. He had planted the seed. That was all he could truly do. It was up to Ciel to decide how and when it was going to grow.

---

For two weeks, Sebastian waited.

Throughout that time, he had convinced himself not to fret. Ciel had not forgotten that conversation in the drawing room so easily. The boy did not say so, but Sebastian could feel it in the careful hesitance that now hued their every interaction. He had felt this hesitance from Ciel before, though typically it was only fleeting before it was wrestled back, replaced with confidence and a desire for the upper hand. This time it stayed, and it stayed, and it stayed.

"Today's letter from Cavendish was kind of strange," the young master said one dreary afternoon as Sebastian poured him tea at his office desk. Ciel was still unaware that Tanaka and Finny were now the ones in charge of his mail and assumed Sebastian already knew the letter existed. "Apparently, an entire crate of praline bonbons was delivered to a civilian's home by mistake. Cavendish is trying to find out which of our locations left the order unaccounted for or sent it to the wrong address. We've never had anything like this happen before… It's sort of embarrassing. I'm tempted to just let the mystery recipient keep the candy as an apology."

"That would have to be quite a bit of candy," Sebastian reasoned as he set down a slice of Folkestone pudding-pie. "If the recipient's household contains children, the accident should be quite a merry surprise for them — though the parents may feel very much the opposite."

"… Mn." Ciel stared at the slice, then back at the letter. "Cavendish will sort it, I'm sure…" he mumbled, and reached to another piece of paper. "Maybe I'll just have him send the bonbons here… Then I can have the candy distributed to the villagers at the Halloween festival instead."

"A capital idea, my lord. That should be quite a better use for them, I presume, if the store that placed the order cannot be located." He chuckled gently. "For a moment, I was worried you planned to have them sent here for your own devices."

Ciel's posture tightened, along with the corners of his mouth. "No, I don't want them…"

Sebastian tilted his head. "Oh? No?" He could see there was no room for jokes suddenly, even ones made in good fun.

Ciel kept his gaze as low as his voice. "I don't always want sweets…"

Wondering if this was a pointed comment, Sebastian asked, "Did you want me to bring you something different to eat for afternoon tea? Something savory perhaps?"

The slice of pie was prodded unceremoniously with the fork. "No… this is fine…"

Ciel didn't finish his pie that day. Over the next few days, he ate less in general, and Sebastian first predicted a burgeoning cold or mild influenza, but no such illness emerged, only consternation. It was clear Ciel still thought of Lyle, which meant he thought of himself and possibly of Sebastian. Frightened of honesty, the boy kept those thoughts bottled tight in the old familiar way. And so, for two weeks, Sebastian waited.

---

All Hallow's Eve, the thirty-first of October, the very last day in the month and the one day of the year that didn't truly seem to end until the rising of the sun, spared them nothing.

Halloween celebrations had become something of a novelty even within Ciel's short lifetime, and yet still the holiday was most beloved by the middle and upper classes, who saw it as an opportunity to pursue romance to a supernatural backdrop. Farmers and villagers had their own festivals that followed the harvests, and indeed a mell-supper had just been held at the end of September. Therefore, the village-wide Halloween party thrown each year was unique to the Phantomhive shire, and it was a recent tradition Ciel himself had begun when he founded Funtom Company. It was a way of thanking his tenants for their hard work, and he always covered the expense of food, beverage, and decorations. It was also typically celebrated on the manor's grounds.

But the Phantomhive tenants were a hearty bunch, and after a short four years, they had adopted the tradition as their own. This particular year, the same farmers that had approached Ciel regarding the use of the Durnin Tobacco Farm as communal grazing land wondered if the Halloween celebrations might be held there instead. The stipend for preparing the festival could instead be split evenly among the wives and children who would manage all the cooking, decorating, and liquor-making that would be necessary to support everyone in the shire. Impressed by their initiative, Ciel put the planning in the hands of his most trusted tenants. Sebastian was glad for it too: it was one less thing for the young master to worry about when he was already so busy.

The weather was crisp and the wind blowing that fateful holiday morning, but the sky was a cheery blue and the clouds wispy, and there was no rain to be had. The good conditions held through to five o'clock, when the sun began to set and the party was due to begin. The entire Phantomhive household arrived together to partake in the festivities. The carriage and wagon rattled up the short hill and crested it to observe the fruits of everyone's labor — though it had been evident from the start that the tenants were eager to impress the dear little lord of their land, as the roads along the journey were lined with over a hundred old gourds fashioned into lanterns.

The celebration was already in full swing, with folk tunes and conversation ringing throughout the clearing. Children chased each other through the throngs of adults, who laughed and gossiped and clicked steins of beer. Delectable smells emanated from a long table heaped with baked hams and pork griskins and spareribs, sage-and-onion stuffing, a tureen of apple sauce, boiled parsnips and carrots and peas, plates upon plates of Yorkshire puddings, and pies of every type of sweet and savory. There was a bit of excited cheering and tipping of glasses when the villagers recognized the Phantomhive carriage meandering past them to park in the dead tobacco field.

Bard immediately ventured over to the buffet as soon as he'd stopped the servants' cart beside the carriage, and then went to join his drinking mates in their banter. Mey-Rin merrily inserted herself into a group by a bonfire taking turns inventing a ghost story, and Finny found Old Man Sam's grandson to bob for apples. The ride had been somewhat hard on Tanaka, even though he'd sat in the carriage with Ciel instead of in the wagon, but when he was able, he emerged and went to drink hot cider with some of the older villagers who had lived there as long as he had. Ciel and Sebastian were left to make their rounds thanking as many villagers individually as they could and doling out praline bonbons to the little ones. For the young master, it was as much a night of celebration as it was a night of hard work.

Humans used Halloween as an excuse to tease at their instinctual fear of the darkness and what lived beyond it. The decorations were an attempt to inspire that spine-chill. Most families had brought their scarecrows with them, the old rags slumped on poles around the fringes of the scene, like uninvited guests who preferred to simply watch. The windows of the Durnin's abandoned cottage were framed with fluttering candles as well as turnips carved into faces to rival the gauntest of the Samhain tradition. Old corn stalks that had been bundled together, along with husks for wreaths and garlands, rustled ominously in the wind to make a hollow, shuffling noise like an approach. And though costumes were not very popular among the adult crowd, a few children were dressed as ghosts and monsters, and they took to popping out from behind the trees with shrieks and growls, their cries echoing around the grounds as the sky blackened and the party relied on only the inconsistent fires to see by.

It was not within Sebastian to fear any of these things. It wasn't really within Ciel to fear them either, at least not individually, but the combination of it all… could it have the power to unnerve him? Especially at this time of year, with December creeping ever closer, the breath of winter just starting to hint the air. And Sebastian would not forget the dark eye of the gun pointed at him after the boy had partaken in a mere night of reading Edgar Allen Poe. A bullet was nothing for the likes of a demon to worry about — but the boy who almost fired that bullet was. So with each new cry that lit the darkness, each new root vegetable fashioned into a skull, Sebastian looked down at the child he trailed behind and wondered how all of it was affecting him.

They returned home much later than Sebastian would have liked. The household yawned and drooped as they made their way to their respective rooms. From Ciel there was no argument that it was bedtime, and scarcely any conversation too, other than, "Thank God that's over" and "Don't even think about asking to double-check my teeth. I brushed them perfectly well. I'm falling asleep on my feet."

"Fine, fine… I only think maybe it's worth a bit of extra fuss after all that chocolate," Sebastian clucked. He paused with hand on the kerosene lamp. "… Are you feeling that you'd like some extra light in the room tonight, young master?"

But Ciel was already settled on the pillow and drifting off.

Sebastian smiled to himself, and out went the lamp. The demon may not have been wary of spirits and witches, but a proper night of sleep for the young lord was certainly worthy of his concern. Unfortunately, six hours later, he'd have a scare of his own.

---

It wasn't a scream but the squealing of water through the pipes that alerted Sebastian to trouble at half past five in the morning, just before the servants were due to wake. At once, there was a sinking in his chest. He's running a bath at this hour… which must mean he's running a fever.

Sebastian hustled up the stairs to take stock of the situation, lightly cursing himself for allowing Ciel to stay out so late, for not putting him in a warmer coat, for not balancing out his diet with enough vegetables to counteract the number of sweets he'd eaten that night, for not putting an extra blanket on the bed. A proper parent would have surely thought of all that! Well… maybe.

As he approached the bedroom door, he could hear the water running at full blast, and he knew Ciel would be unlikely to hear him from the bathroom if he knocked. He decided to enter of his own accord, only to quickly sight, in the young sunlight from thrown-back curtains, that the bathroom door had been left ajar and pajamas left scattered on the floor as if in haste.

Oh dear, dear…

Sebastian stepped over the stray clothing and into the dim, tiled room that was already filling up with clouds of steam. "I'm here, young master, it's only me… Have we got a fever, then? And so soon after the other just ended," he chuckled sadly. He started to venture past the tub to the cabinets for one of the clean towels that he kept neatly stacked inside. "It will actually be much better for your health to get you back into bed. I know the water may feel nicer than the air, but…"

Sebastian's words tapered off when he turned around. Until that point, it hadn't occurred to him that sickness might not be involved at all. He reconsidered when he had a towel in hand and noticed the boy's pose more closely.

Ciel had his arms wrapped securely around his legs and his forehead pressed to his knees. It was a pose that, at first glance, gave the impression that he was seeking warmth. But his body was… a little too rigid… and these shivers were… a little bit more like trembling…

Sebastian came over and crouched by the lip of the tub. "Oh, young master… This is really about a nightmare, isn't it?" he said gently.

The hot water gushed loudly from the faucet. Ciel's voice was dulled by it. "Don't make me get out," he whined. He let go of his legs and his fingers brushed over his arms, smearing the droplets on them. "My skin is crawling. I need soap."

Sebastian abided, along with a washcloth. He handed the items to Ciel, who immediately pressed the cake of almond oil to his neck and rubbed until suds appeared. He ran the soap down his shoulder and his arm and over chest and then down his other arm. Everything was hurried.

"Is there something I can do?" Sebastian said. He didn't want to be helpless, not when Ciel was feeling helpless himself.

Ciel paused in the middle of this furious scrubbing. "… You should go change the bedsheets," he said distantly.

… Ah.

"But come back," Ciel added, and returned to washing himself with a hypnotic fury.

Sebastian did not tarry at the linen closet. If it had been that sort of dream… the same sort of dream that had afflicted Ciel in March… the sort of dream that left a mark on the bedsheets that only an adult could make… then he couldn't leave the boy by himself, with his thoughts, for long. Sebastian threw open the closet door, grabbed a winter set along with another towel, and was on his way back, grateful the servants would still be in the kitchen, waking up and having breakfast and chatting amongst themselves, likely groggy from last night's festivities. He didn't have time to answer any questions or dissuade curious looks that wondered about the water running upstairs. He had to get back to the boy whose panic currently lived on the very surface of his skin.

The roar of the faucet sounded out into the bedroom. After a glance to check that Ciel was still busy with the soap, Sebastian went about his duty. He removed the comforter and blankets and folded them neatly before putting them aside. The top sheet and the coverlet would have to be removed for washing.

But, even with the discretion that Sebastian was sure to exact, when he pulled back the top sheet, he couldn't help but notice something unexpected. Something that sent a chill through him more acutely than any mark would have.

Oh dear. This nightmare must have been very bad indeed.

The sheets were replaced. The towel and a new nightshirt were left on a chair in front of the fire to warm up. Sebastian returned to the bathroom to see Ciel struggling to wash every inch of his own back. "Young master, I'm here again." He was sure to introduce himself so as not to frighten the boy. He approached and offered out his hand. "If it is all right, may I help you?"

Sebastian was prepared for rejection. But Ciel didn't hesitate. He held out the soap without looking at his butler. "Here."

The task was conducted with greater care than Ciel awarded himself. Sebastian knew anything unexpected might just cause the boy to flinch, and so he was rhythmic and steady in his movements. When he arrived at the section where the old brand mark remained raised and pink, he paused only briefly before treating the skin as normal. Early on in their relationship, well after the burn had scabbed over and healed, in certain circumstances touching it could make Ciel jerk with fresh pain. Fortunately today, this did not happen.

"There we are," he said when he finished, and put the soap aside to retrieve the pitcher. "Let's rinse you off now and get you back into bed."

Ciel waited in stony silence as the porcelain jug was filled. He still rubbed at his arms and legs, as if the layer of bubbles wasn't enough to convince himself that he was clean. Sebastian hoped the soak from the pitcher could wash that imagined filth away. He was wondering if he should say something about the bed. He didn't want to frighten Ciel, but his discovery might also be comforting. At the very least, a dash of reality might ground the boy.

Ultimately, he decided to speak. "Young master, I changed your sheets just as you asked. But I thought I ought to tell you… The previous ones were perfectly normal. There was nothing marring them whatsoever."

"… Oh…" Ciel let the first warm jugful of water cascade over his back and shoulders. He huddled into himself as the water drizzled off and left him with nothing but the chill of autumn air. "They may as well have been," he finally said in a cotton voice. "I still would've had you change them… I would know they were the same… And that would be enough…"

Sebastian filled up the pitcher a second time. "It isn't a bother. I only thought you should know."

Ciel went quiet and still. The water ran over him in rivers. It all went circling down the drain.

The heated towel was removed from its place on the chairback. Again, Sebastian wondered if he'd be turned away, but Ciel allowed assistance in drying off and getting into the clean wool nightshirt without argument. "It's a bit silly…" he mumbled, in a stale voice that didn't seem to know silliness. "It's morning. I should be awake."

"It's not quite six a.m.," Sebastian told him, rustling his hair with the towel to shake free the bit of water it had collected. "You are usually still sleeping at this hour. But would you like to stay awake?"

Ciel's eyes drifted to the side. The seconds ticked by to reach half a minute. He snapped to attention when the movement of the towel stopped. "Huh?"

"Never mind it. Back into bed now."

Unless they were away on a mission, this bed was the location Ciel woke up in every time he had a nightmare. Those nightmares had been especially rampant during the first few months of their contract. Sebastian had used to wonder why Ciel never feared the bed itself — that kind of association seemed to fall in line with the ways humans dealt with their phobias. He had even gone ahead and asked about it once.

"Why would I fear the bed?" ten-year-old Ciel had spat back at him. "I'd have nightmares in any bed. I used to have nightmares in my old bedroom all the time. That's when I'd come here and nestle in with my parents."

Sebastian had given him a sly smirk. "Oh? But you would leave your childhood bed when you had a nightmare. So…?"

"Look, I didn't leave my bed because I was scared of it!" Ciel had insisted. "I left it because I wanted to be with my parents, obviously."

Fourteen-year-old Ciel climbed on his knees across the mattress and lay down and waited for the sheets and blankets to be pulled back over him. Sebastian yanked them high up above Ciel's shoulders and lowered them again, tucking them around his back to keep in the warmth all the better. Ciel's hands found the special pillow that Sebastian had placed by the headboard and brought it under his chin. The curtain was closed most of the way to shut out the white of early morning.

"Shall I stay here until you fall asleep?" Sebastian stood by the bedpost to ask.

A short moment; then, "You can sit… on the bed."

Oh?

"… Of course, young master."

Sebastian made sure to stay next to the footboard. The bed was a long one, huge really, well over eight feet, but he felt it was only right to remain as far from Ciel's sleeping form as he was able. He didn't want to accidentally wake him up, even though Sebastian could keep perfectly still as long as need be. And after a nightmare like this one, if Ciel sensed there was someone on his bed while he tried to drift off, he might just scream out in terror.

At first, Ciel remained curled up in a helix of torment and wakefulness. But he was only human and he could never be truly still. His breath came in and out, slow, then quick, then slow, in a rhythm unpredictable. His eyes flickered, the lids blinking and drooping and gradually losing their ability to stay open at all. He swallowed and his throat flexed. His fingers unclenched. His legs started to seek a more casual position. His body was beginning to naturally unwind itself as sleep found its home in him once more.

Sebastian was a statue. He could not bring himself to think about the chores of the day, what the other servants must be doing, if they wondered where he was. Every time he tried to train himself away, he would drift back to monitoring the little soul on the opposite end of the bed. He knew from the way it tremored that it was right on the cusp of sleep but wasn't there yet.

After twenty minutes, Ciel was no longer curled up at all. His arms were loose around his comfort object. His head was slipping off the pillows that propped it up. To accommodate for the new position of his neck, his body shifted farther down the bed. His legs reached out all the way. His feet moved under the covers like they were seeking something. Above his closed lids, the boy furrowed his brow. One of his feet left the edge of the mattress and, still under the sheets, hung out in open air. All of a sudden, Ciel lifted his head off the bed and asked with his eyes completely closed, "You're still here?"

"Yes, I'm here," Sebastian told the boy who was practically sleep-talking. He paused, and then, over top of the covers, nudged the stray foot back beside the other to keep the cold air from leaking in between the blankets. He promptly took back his hand. The soul drifted off…

… for all of forty seconds. Then abruptly Ciel seemed to snap awake and repeat drowsily, "You're still here?"

"I'm still here. I won't leave until I'm sure you're asleep. This I promise."

"Are you on the bed?"

"Yes," said Sebastian. "I'm on the bed. I'm sitting at the far end of it where I won't disturb you."

As soon as he said it, Sebastian realized.

Ciel's legs were still stretched out long. He was five feet tall, and the roughly two-foot space between them was a barren field of untouched blanket. Sebastian's stock-still position was not the least bit detectable from where Ciel lay.

The soul wavered at the horizon of sleep, like the sun that still sat just below their corner of the earth. Sebastian placed his hand gingerly on the comforter. He paused. Would this really help…? Only one way to know. Slowly, carefully, he began to lean his weight on his hand, close enough to Ciel's legs that he wasn't touching him but so that Ciel would notice the pressure, the way the mattress yielded just slightly under Sebastian's palm. After a minute, Sebastian let some of the pressure off. Then he added it back. He shifted, so mechanically and not really like a human, but he wondered… He wondered…

A mere minute later, Ciel fell asleep and stayed it.

It was a quarter past six o' clock. The day was a cloudy one, with the threat of rain looming in the distance. The winter birds barely twittered, the spring songs long gone from their throats. The grasses were turning brown, and the mud was damp. Only the most durable insects and frogs remained active at this point of the year, and they were as brown as the landscape they attempted to thrive in. The swallows were in Spain by now, and the wind had few leaves left to wrench from the gnarled, hibernating trees.

Sebastian leaned on his palm, executing varying levels of pressure, and thought what a beautiful November morning it was.

---

The bed that was a restored version of the one belonging to his parents had been a haven for Ciel for a long while. Lately it was starting to resemble that for Sebastian too, like a nest that could always be returned to when the world was much too wearying. He was there again at eleven o'clock when Ciel woke up a second time.

The boy sat on the edge of the mattress in front of the window. He was looking out at the rain that washed over the garden and stretched on past the wood. It was a cool day, and the blankets were still covering the legs that were propped up in front of him, and he leaned his chin on his knees as he stared straight forward, at least until Sebastian came over with the trolley.

"I've brought warm milk and honey," Sebastian said by way of greeting, as Ciel studied him dully, "and scones if you're hungry." He handed over the cup and then gestured to the bed. "Is it all right if I join you again?"

Ciel nodded absently, and Sebastian sat down next him. They both looked out the window together.

"This drink might make me tired," Ciel said quietly. "Maybe I shouldn't have it…"

Sebastian held out his hand in case Ciel wanted to return it to him. "Whatever you please, young master. Fortunately, today is a Saturday. There is no place you must be and nothing you must do. If you feel a little tired, you can simply rest."

"…" Ciel took a small sip from the cup and clutched it with both hands in the space between his knees and his chest.

It was quiet again for another minute. The rain was light upon the panes.

"… Something is wrong with me," Ciel said at last in a small voice.

Sebastian tilted his jaw. "What do you think is wrong with you, then?"

Ciel shrugged passively and sighed. "I don't know… A lot, I imagine."

"Hmm. Well, what is troubling you most, young master?"

The steam clouded up from the cup and drifted over the boy's face. "The fact that I can't stop thinking about the same thing over and over again no matter how much I try not to."

Sebastian nodded. "I see… Even after all this time, you are still thinking about Lyle, is that it?"

Ciel bunched his shoulders. "It used to be that I could stop thinking about anything whenever I wanted to," he said. Sebastian had heard this sentiment before. "All I had to do was tell myself to stop, and I would. Then for some reason after Lyle's outburst at the Shrove Tuesday party… I couldn't do it anymore. Now thoughts I don't want to have keep coming back no matter what." Ciel ran a hand through hair. "And being around Lyle or hearing about Lyle always makes it worse. It always makes it harder to stop thinking about everything I don't want to think about. But I didn't ask for this. I'm sick of it, and I want to stop. I don't want to care about any of this anymore, but I can't stop…" Ciel's words were soft until the very end, when they suddenly revealed themselves to be made of glass. He cut off there, as if his own voice could shatter if he spoke.

Sebastian frowned. He could feel Ciel's sadness creating a cinch in his own chest. "Young master…"

The boy shook his head, getting ahold of himself. "I understand that I'm thinking about Lyle because I see myself in him. I just don't know why I have to be so obsessive about it." His eyelids tightened. "I just keep thinking… If only he told his secret, then this obsession could end… Because for some reason, I can't stop wondering what it is he's hiding. I've thought of just about everything, but it doesn't even matter what it might be. It only matters what it is."

"Can you tell me why it matters what it is?" Sebastian asked.

Ciel curled his legs around the side of himself. He didn't look at Sebastian. "Because I've busied myself for weeks considering the possibilities of what his secret is and what would happen if he told it. But ultimately there's only one way that things can go. And I have no idea what that way is going to be." Ciel squeezed at his cup, growing irritated. "And I need to know. I just need to. But I don't know why. I have to stop thinking about it and I can't! It's so exhausting!"

Sebastian knew this mood. This was just how Ciel had behaved during the Funtom Convention: so close to a revelation. So close to a breakthrough — or a breakdown. With luck, both.

"I know you've considered a lot of possibilities for what would happen if Lyle told his secret," Sebastian began. "But what is it that you want to happen?"

That question seemed to throw Ciel off. He shot Sebastian a sidelong look. "What I want to happen?" He gave a soft snort. "I couldn't tell you. That all depends on what the secret is."

"Very well. But perhaps… you are considering a situation in which Lyle's parents would reject him for telling his secret? You said yourself that he's afraid they might hate him."

Ciel stared into the cup again. "Not quite reject… Look, Aunt Francis didn't understand this either. I think it's likely that whatever Lyle's secret is, it's actually quite a small thing comparatively and there will be no repercussions. But… there's a chance that it isn't a small thing and that Lyle has gotten himself into some real trouble. And in that case, his parents might hate him after he tells his secret, even more than they hate him now."

Hmm. "When you say 'hate him after he tells his secret', young master, do you mean that they would scold or punish him?"

Ciel shifted his posture again. "No, that isn't what I mean. I mean… I mean that they would resent him for being honest. Because, you know… some secrets change the way people see you, and not for the better." Ciel turned to Sebastian abruptly and jabbed at him with his finger. "And wait a minute! Don't pretend you don't know all about that! You kept secrets from me for that very reason!"

"Ah, yes. So I did." Sebastian dipped his head in acknowledgement. "And I think you did hate me a little bit for being honest with you, at first. But: wouldn't you say that things have improved now that you know the truth? Now that you don't have to wonder about why I'm acting the way that I am?"

"…" Ciel chewed on his lip.

"Keeping a secret can be a lot of hard work," Sebastian emphasized. "I'm sure Lyle is feeling the strain of staying quiet and that that is a part of why he does not leave his bed. It's very likely that it would relieve much of his anxiety to simply tell it. You know that, yes?"

"But… it wouldn't relieve anything if his parents hated him…" Ciel's hand holding onto the mug trembled with contained energy. "Then nothing would get better… Because… he would have to live with their hate… and… and you can't take back your secrets once you tell them… So… I can see why… he might never tell his parents what happened to him…"

"And yet, what you want more than anything," said Sebastian, "is to see how it would go if Lyle did say what happened to him."

Ciel was back to chewing his lip. He looked uncertain.

For Sebastian, the details were coming together with perfect clarity. He knew this child through and through. He had worked alongside him for well over four years; how could he not?

Well… it wasn't just four years of experience, he supposed. The foreign magic, both incredible and terrifying, had granted a demon the chance to feel love and empathy. He didn't know why the magic was here, what its purpose was, if it meant the end of himself. But he could only be forever grateful that it was giving him the power to help his beloved child at this crossroads.

"Young master," Sebastian's voice was as gentle as the rain, "how do you think you would feel if Lyle told his secret and it ended up being something you would consider 'not a small thing'… and then Lyle's parents didn't hate him at all? How would you feel if they were simply relieved to know what it was so that they could help him?"

Ciel didn't answer. He was completely fixated on the window. His thumbs rubbed at the cup.

"Is it possible, young master," Sebastian said, "that you are so keen to see how Lyle's parents would respond to his secret because you are thinking of yourself? Because you might use this situation as a gauge to measure what would happen if you were to start sharing secrets of your own?"

Still no answer, but the boy's eyes were wide and afraid.

"You once asked me if I thought what happened to you during that horrible month was forgivable," Sebastian continued, knowing that the memory was already present in the room with them. "I told you that it would be… and even so you had trouble believing me. But in spite of that, your mind says that you must keep thinking about what happened then. Not even your dreams will let you be, will they? And still you won't tell anyone what happened… because you are so afraid of being hated."

Ciel's entire body shook now. He breathed through his mouth.

"But that isn't the end of it," Sebastian recognized, "because you aren't just afraid of being hated. You're also afraid of being pitied, of being feared, of being seen at all differently than before… even of being loved. You're afraid of everything that comes after. And thus, it's easier to simply live vicariously through Lyle, isn't it?"

The boy's lips trembled, and his eyes were glistening bright. Sebastian watched carefully, ready for anything. But then… no. Ciel's lids were squeezed shut and he swallowed. Took a breath in and a breath out. Cleared his throat. Opened his eyes again. Made himself as controlled as an adult.

"Maybe you have a point," Ciel said. "I… never thought of it that way before." He gave a small cough.

Sebastian studied him. "Young master…?"

"What?" the boy half-laughed. He blinked at him. Blinked again, quickly.

And only then did the tears come.

They fell from Ciel's eyes in droplets much larger and faster and less graceful than the drizzle freckling the window. They ran down his cheeks like water from a pitcher, too long denied. Ciel grimaced, astounded and frightened, and Sebastian took the cup from him so the boy could wipe at his face with his hands. Ciel tried to make them stop, but there was nothing in the world that could keep the weather from coming.

"Here, now," said Sebastian, trading the cup of warm milk for the handkerchief he always carried folded in his front pocket. Ciel scrubbed at his face with it, but his frame still shook hard with what he tried to contain. "That's it. There we are. There we are… That's much better, isn't it?"

Ciel shuddered and sniveled hard and coughed again. He lowered the handkerchief, face wet with tears that wouldn't stop coming. "I… I don't know." He looked spooked. "I don't know… I-I think… s-something is wrong with me…"

Sebastian gave him a tight smile. "No… Not right now, young master. Not this time."

Ciel had no protest to make. For the moment, he was rendered helpless to do anything but let the storm pass. He gave an involuntary hiccup and, ashamed, lifted up his knees and pressed his forehead against them to hide this display of sadness. His shoulders convulsed with every sob he smothered before it could come out. He was focused more on suppressing his emotions than letting them free… That was what he knew best, and he did it even when it scarcely worked.

It was hard to watch. It was especially hard to sit there and do nothing, for, just like the day of the Funtom Convention, Sebastian currently felt the urge to seize Ciel and hold him tight in the safety of his arms. But alas, Sebastian knew in this vulnerable moment that to offer an embrace could only serve to confuse and terrify the boy who still would not say 'yes' even to the hugs that a small part of him desperately yearned for. It was too soon for that, too unusual for this boy who lived in perpetual fear of being loved…

Or… wait.

Was it too soon?

Sebastian furrowed his brow. His gaze had drifted to the window, but now he turned and looked down, and his vision filled with the sight of the crying boy.

He had held this child in his arms many, many times before. When Ciel was feeling panicked or sad before bed, Sebastian had wrapped him in a blanket and whisked him across the countryside. He had carried Ciel to bed when he fell asleep in the middle of work, and sometimes Ciel wouldn't even wake up along the way. And then there was that moment in September, when Ciel's hair had been sticking up and the boy had allowed each of Sebastian's fruitless attempts to smooth it down, all because he had wanted to feel the deliberate touch upon his head. And just this morning, even when the nightmare was fresh in his mind, Ciel had let Sebastian wash his back, put him in new pajamas, tuck him into bed. And then… then he'd even reached across the mattress with his foot, searching for him, wanting to know he was there…

Each time, there had been some roundabout, unspoken story to make Sebastian's contact a wholly practical thing. But had Ciel not been seeking him nonetheless? Had Ciel not wanted to feel some form of coddling, of tactual gentleness?

Maybe it wasn't at all too soon to hug him. Maybe, in fact, it was well overdue.

Sebastian's mouth had gone agape, surprised at himself, at Ciel, at the two of them and their endless struggles to communicate even the simplest of things. He closed his mouth, appalled at himself. Beside him, his child was curled up and weeping. A proper parent would have surely seen what needed to be done.

But he wasn't a proper parent. Maybe he would never be one.

And maybe that was part of what suited him so well to the boy who perpetually refused to be a 'proper child.'

Sebastian took his left hand from his knee. Slowly, slowly, he hovered it over the space between Ciel's shoulder blades. Then the boy hiccupped again, and Sebastian found his resolve.

"There, now," he crooned. He placed his gloved palm to the Ciel's back and rubbed small circles there. "Shh… There, now. It's all right. There isn't anything wrong with you. Nothing at all."

Ciel's shuddering stopped for an instant, and his back muscles tightened. Sebastian wondered for a moment if he had done wrong after all… but then the taut shoulders gave up their fight and relaxed. Ciel sniffled from inside the cocoon of arms and legs that he kept folded in tight. He didn't want to emerge yet, but he was allowing Sebastian to make the decisions right now. He trusted him to decide for them both. He wanted this too.

"There we are." Sebastian continued with these aimless, adoring little phrases as he moved his hand to the boy's far shoulder and carefully pulled Ciel against the nook of his own body. "There we are… That's right… There we are…"

There they were.

Sebastian felt the little head beneath his arm, and reached across with his right hand to smooth at the hair that grew in its curious shade of gray. His left hand both held Ciel in place and rubbed at the boy's upper arm in a soothing rhythm. Ciel tried to remain balled up like a woodlouse, but over the course of twenty minutes, these reassuring actions worked their magic, and he began to naturally unwind himself. First his arms released their grip and hung limp; then his head slumped away from his knees; and finally, his legs slid down over the side of the bed until he was sitting normally, all except for the fact that he'd gone limp as a ragdoll. The tears were scarcely falling now.

They stayed that way for eight more unprotested minutes. Then Ciel gave a sudden dry cough.

"I'm thirsty," he rasped.

Sebastian chuckled in his throat. He reached with for the not-so-warm milk and honey he'd placed on the trolley within arms' reach. "Here. This should take care of that."

Ciel tipped his head back against Sebastian's shoulder as he drank. He drained the cup in several long gulps and gave a small sound as he caught his breath. His eyes were downcast. His thumbs rubbed over the transferware again and again, slowly, unthinkingly. He was awash in something like shock but far tenderer; whether or not he wanted to, he was having a realization about himself. Externally, he portrayed concern, but inside his chest, Ciel's soul pulsed with the steady beating of his heart. He was at last being nurtured, simply held and loved, without any of the bells and whistles that usually kept him from noticing it, and he was trying to comprehend that he'd needed it for a long, long while. It wasn't an easy thing to do.

The silence persisted for another five minutes. Sebastian would have happily sat there like that forever, letting Ciel breathe and rest in this place of parental affection, but then Ciel gave a sigh like he was frustrated, uncertain, and so Sebastian implored softly, "What are you feeling now, young master?"

"I don't know…" Ciel mumbled.

Sebastian loosened his hold a fraction. "Do you feel as if you would like me to give you time to yourself?"

Another sigh, almost like a groan. "I don't know…"

Sebastian chuckled again, heartier. "Young master, there's no correct answer here. I can assure you that no matter what you choose, it isn't going to change the way that I see you."

Ciel glowered up at him then, with eyes red-rimmed and swollen. "You mean like a child, don't you?" he huffed.

Ah. Sebastian hesitated. He couldn't lie here… and the last thing he wanted now was to start bickering. "Well… That isn't what I intended, exactly… I only meant—"

"Never mind. I don't have the spirit for an argument… You can just be correct for today." Ciel frowned and looked down at his hands. "Especially considering the way I just behaved… As if I have a leg to stand on after all that…" He smudged at his eye with his wrist even as he said it.

Again, Sebastian couldn't resist a well-meaning laugh. He squeezed the boy ever more reassuringly against him. "We shall have all the time in the world to argue about this when you are feeling improved," he said, ever fond. "But I for one think it's about time you acted your age."

---

※: This is a joke based on the "unbirthday art" Yana made, since we don't know Lizzie's actual canon birthday.