✳ 001 ✳ [video]

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[Two proud Canadian geese. They're the only things of visible interest, standing no more than a few yards away. The video stays steady as a white-gloved hand moves into view, its palm turned to the sky and holding a few leaves of romaine lettuce. The geese immediately notice the offering, but they're too wary to approach for whatever reason.]You

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[Action]

[littlest_lord]

[It had been a tense day, one filled with Alois acting erratic and nervous. Ciel hadn't paid much attention to it, or well, he had, but he'd simply been yelled at. So, he'd spent most of his day in his office. When the feed comes on he doesn't pay much attention to it, but there's a feeling of dread when he sees the mansion in the background of the feed. It turns into somewhat of a lump in his throat when he sees the black hair, the golden eyes and glasses

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[stabilimentum]

[It was a relief to Claude. Last night, that is--it was a relief to him. Last night held the hugest relief ever. It was just so relieving to Claude when stood at the foot of Ciel Phantomhive's bed, watching him sleep and feeling no desire to taste him. Whether Siren's Port is part of nirvana or an entirely new world, Claude's feeling of deep contentment hasn't faltered at all. He doesn't need anything or anyone else but Alois Trancy right now. For now.

So when he hears Ciel approach--after he detects and then dismisses the distain staining Ciel's voice--Claude doesn't stop thinking that his master would look rather nice with some of these local forget-me-not flowers speckling his fair hair.]

I have already obtained permission, Ciel Phantomhive.

[Alois' yearning for his demon is permission enough.

After another moment, Claude actually looks at Ciel with those golden eyes. He doesn't need to breathe in to know that Ciel is not a demon anymore--another conclusion that Claude came to last night. The masterpiece of Alois' last

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[littlest_lord]

I don't recall ever being asked.

[Tiny fingers tighten their grip on the handle of the umbrella in hand as he stares up at those golden eyes. They make him reel in very much the same way Sebastian's do, only he's learned to stomach Sebastian's gaze and counter it with snark. This...Claude...he doesn't know how to deal with the demon.]

I will only ask you once to leave or you will be disposed of, regardless of Alois' wishes.

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[stabilimentum]

I haven't the need to ask you, [Claude replies evenly. Only an ignorant fool would think Ciel might agree to his presence, so there was no point in approaching Ciel in the first place.

By the way, not even Alois knows how to deal with Claude Faustus.]

You do not have Sebastian Michaelis, and I will not be leaving my master's side.

[Claude is absolutely sure of both these things. Perhaps, in another tangent, Sebastian was able to escape his contract after reversing the transformation. There are quite a few credible theories, yet none that click just yet...]

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[littlest_lord]

I don't need Sebastian to possess a means of doing away with you. There are other ways one can kill a demon.

[A haughty claim, but one that's true. He knows a reaper's Death Scythe can kill even a demon and if need be, if forced to, there are three reapers throughout the city - one specifically who's likely to help fulfill his orders (even if he has to pay in return).]

You don't deserve to be by your Master's side. A worthy servant doesn't dispose of their Master so readily.

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[stabilimentum]

[Claude can't refute that claim, so he doesn't attempt to. Only very special demons are immune to the swing of a death god's scythe. There is no telling what other dangers might be lying in wait, so Claude decides to play conservative hands.

He stares at Ciel instead of answering immediately, for much longer than needed for what was said to him. Then, speaking plainly, as if they really are on this topic:] Have you been without him for quite a while, then?

[He means that time that has passed since Ciel was abandoned. But, given how he's too ambivalent to completely enrage Ciel, he will actually throw the Queen Watchdog's a bone. The response might give Claude a better understanding of what the hell is going on.]

You did not care all that much when you impaled him on your sword.

[No more unwavering assertions from Ciel about being a murderer, that's for sure. Perhaps the soul infusion had Ciel sympathizing with Alois by the end... or could this be...]

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[littlest_lord]

[He wasn't going to answer the first question, was going to disregard it completely, but it's forgotten naturally at the statement that follows - a claim that makes Ciel's blood run cold. Impaled Alois Trancy? On a sword? But when? Why? It hadn't been the cause of the boy's death, Ciel knew that much thanks to Grell.]

If you're trying to place the blame of his death on my shoulders, don't even think it. I know you were the one to kill him and you certainly didn't do it with the edge of a blade.

[There's the fire inside, the urge to order Claude to his death - but Sebastian isn't here. It'd be a futile order. Even so, the seal on his eye stings longingly at the thought.]

I've never harmed Alois Trancy. [Well, he had almost killed the both of them once, that one night. He can feel the familiar twist in his gut as he had that night, however. There's the fleeting thought of running now and slitting both their throats while he still had the chance.] I'd never met him until we arrived in this city.

[Action]

[stabilimentum]

[Ah, yes. Yes. This was Claude's third guess or so. He is looking at Ciel Phantomhive not as he is, but as he once was, right before the Trancy family intervened in his life. (Or the closest thing to that Ciel from before, anyway.) If Claude were able to manipulate Ciel's soul right now, he would be able to figure out where and when exactly Ciel came from, just by dipping his fingertips into certain ethereal loci.

Claude spent many days learning the topography of that truly fine soul. He pulled it apart one stitch at a time, carefully and precisely, studying Ciel down to his most delicate gossamers. Inducing amnesia via a person's spiritual essence isn't as easy as knocking them over the head. Ciel Phantomhive lost his memories, Claude murmured to a starving demon, and the pain he lived through. A Ciel Phantomhive without his memories of revenge is meaningless.

Incomplete.

No demonhood for this Ciel. No soul-infusing ceremony. They haven't even met formally yet.]

You have not yet harmed my master, [he replies

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[littlest_lord]

[That smile - it's like a thousand pins and needles at once, pricking his skin and using his heart as a pincushion. There's the ever so gut wrenching twist he feels at the sight of it. It's worse than any smile Sebastian could give him. Those smiles could be ordered away, could be countered with haughty ones of his own...but there was no defense against a smile like this, against words like this.

Sebastian deceived him? It was something that would make his blood boil if it hadn't already iced over inside his veins. Even so, everything that came from Claude's lips, every venom laced word would go unheeded and ignored. He'd deny it.]

If it was a mortal blow, he would've died right then and there. I'm not prone to leaving business unfinished. I've already been informed by a reaper how you did away with him - a fatal crushing blow to his head. Alois Trancy's death was not by my hands but yours.

[He wanted to scream. To vomit on the demon's shoes or pretend he simply didn't exist.]You've no right to suggest anything to me, nor is it

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[stabilimentum]

[His nettling smile refuses to budge--maybe even curls at the corners to cut even deeper. Claude did expect Ciel to deny it (too predictable, little Phantomhive) and he feels self-satisfied because he'll continue telling as much of the truth as he wants. When he designed everything that transpired, he made sure to have realistic ways of absolving himself of any and all guilt. Sebastian will bear the brunt of this atrocity all by his lonesome.]

If you would like me to write a detailed account of it, I am quite willing to do so. [It is taking a lot of effort not to laugh in Ciel's face.] In the meantime, please listen to me: I was well on my way to stopping you from scoring the finishing blow. Sebastian managed to save you, and left with you, leaving me with my master as he began to bleed to death.

[He turns his face away, into the damp wind, but his eyes never stop piercing through Ciel.]
Your reaper is lamentably mistaken. I would never violate the integrity of my master's flesh in a manner as crude as "a fatal crushing blow

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[littlest_lord]

[The implications of orally induced venom make his stomach twist and the added details finally make him wretch. He doesn't want to think about it. He wants to forget this meeting has ever taken place in the first place. The sick he's been holding back for so long finally gets the best of him as nerves and paranoia force it out over fingers clamped to his mouth as he wretches pitifully toward the ground.

His umbrella is dropped in the process as the rain begins to soak his little form.]

Liar. [He manages after a moment, straightening himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He feels dizzy; dehydrated.] A demon only has their own interests at heart veiled under the ruse of truly caring for their Master. Don't make me laugh.

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[stabilimentum]

[Claude stands as still as a statue, observing Ciel vomit all over the ground.]

Forgive me if I do not offer you my handkerchief, [he says, unable to keep pleased raspiness from his tone,] but it has been rendered useless by the rain.

[The geese, uncharmed and scared shitless, have fled the scene. Claude and Ciel are alone now. When he listens closely, Claude can hear every individual raindrop, the electric potential for lightning overhead, and the pitter-patter of off-color sick as it drips from Ciel's tiny hand. Claude remembers when he wanted to suck on those fragile fingers one by one, stripping them of fatally delicious skin with each swath of his tongue, but now he thinks they're just disgusting.]

I am not your Sebastian. [For that much, Claude is grateful. He couldn't imagine being that much of a fuckup. It might've been amazing for him, being contracted forever to another demon, but he enjoys where he's ended up too much to think on it.] You were never anything other than a meal to him

[Action]

[littlest_lord]

[Ciel, admittedly, is used to people creeping up on him from behind, but even Undertaker's spindly fingers would be more welcome than this. As soon as he hears the murmur in his ear he spins around on his heel, eye wide and hand raised to slap the demon across the face. The sound was a satisfying one, made louder by the wetness of his palm and the man's face.]

I'm more than well aware of the terms of my contract with Sebastian. I've never once thought anything fanciful of it.

[He was becoming wet now, soaking without an umbrella as he stood there in the rain, fists balled at his sides. A few steps were taken back to put distance between them both as he glared at the demon. If he stayed out any longer in the rain he was bound to get sick again, but he didn't care.]

Do not test me or my patience, Claude Faustus. Your existence here in this city depends on it.

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[stabilimentum]

[And Claude, of course, is used to people hitting him in the face with all manner of limbs or limb-like instruments. Inside that white flash of pain, when his cheek is burning and his head is being knocked to the side, Claude imagines Ciel would look lovely when wielding a switch made from hazelwood. I fancied myself lying down on the floor for this child, he thinks, feeling his glasses slide down his nose. His eyes, closed on reflex, remain closed. I would have let him walk across my back while wearing the sharpest, finest ice picks ever crafted on both his slim heels.

And for what? What was the fucking point? Claude hardly got a taste of Ciel's soul, and greatly upset his true master in the process. He cannot understand what he was thinking beyond not thinking at all.]

Sebastian was the fanciful one, [he says, slowly opening his eyes. His head is still tilted away, as if he's listening to some distant sound. The afterglow of physical pain is the closest Claude thinks he'll ever get to ever feeling Heaven's light again.]

[Action]

[littlest_lord]

Liar! [It had to be a half truth, a skewing of fact. Even if it wasn't? It hadn't happened to Ciel. It was irrelevant. It didn't matter, or at least he'd tell himself as much.]

Sebastian will answer for himself if he ever bothers to return. [There's a dull sting to his eye, the faint memory of how it felt to have the demon's presence about. Sebastian wouldn't lie to him - that had been one of the first orders he'd ever given.]

Alois wasn't dissatisfied. He's been more than content here. [The offered umbrella was ignored. He wouldn't take anything offered from the man.]

If anything, you've done the complete opposite of what you supposedly care about.

[Action]

[stabilimentum]

[Since Ciel doesn't want the umbrella back, Claude will just have to hang on to it. Claude rubs his long, wet fingers over the closed canopy, feeling out its make (nylon taffeta, 190 threads per inch) and learning more about its maker (a tingle of Sebastian, but he can't be sure). Within a few days, Claude will be certain to replace many aspects of the household like umbrellas with higher-quality versions. His master deserves no less than the best if they are going to be staying here.]

I wonder if you will punish him in the same way, [he muses, unable to hide his small smile. Something about Ciel Phantomhive still sets his insides squirming about like garden slugs getting salt poured on them.] You and my master...

[But Claude isn't going to elaborate on that, not right now; not even if asked.]

--Hm?

[Too bad it'd be too rude to laugh. He wants to.]

If you believe that, then he has not fully explained our contract to you.