Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

The Devil's Smile	By : Kinnikuman Category: > Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji ???) Views: 1969 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Neither author owns or holds rights to the works of "Black Butler (Kuroshitsuji)". We do not make a profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Five

by Robin

Sebastian looked about the den with a dark stare.

It had been hard to enter with his young master without arousing suspicions or attention, particularly as the police had their keen eyes upon the den for some time now . . . but – with great skill and determination – he had managed to gain them entry. No one had paid them much mind, not even Detective Aberline whose eyes they moved in front of with very little recognition from the older man. Espionage was not a skill limited to police and spies.

The police were hoping to get leads on Lau, and – of course – indict him in the recent spree of missing persons. Lau was the perfect suspect. He was Chinese, thus of a ‘disreputable’ origin and an extensive knowledge of human anatomy, he had shady connections that included the Undertaker, and if anyone wanted to make a body disappear it would be him. The theories were numerous, up to and including the idea that the Chinese man was looking to expand into brothels and needed the bodies for such a venture, but the truth behind his ‘motivation’ was far simpler than that.

The police held a grudge.

Here was a man who on the surface held great wealth, status, and opportunity . . . that enough could inspire hatred amongst the less affluent who envied a foreigner for ‘stealing’ the wealth that mere nationality entitled them to, but it was more than that. The police were educated, unlike the masses, and as such they knew that Lau’s upstanding reputation was a front: he was in charge of many opium dens. The problem? They just couldn’t prove it.

It was foolish though to think that surveillance would be enough to catch Lau in any wrongdoing, and even more foolish to think that such surveillance would stop Lau’s influx of visitors or stifle his movements. Detective Aberline had been standing guard by the den for some time, undercover of course, but even he had failed to notice the comings and goings of some of the more dedicated clientele and guests . . . and Sebastian was certainly dedicated to getting inside. The air was surprisingly clean and not filled with the stench of opium, and any deals that were going on were so under-the-table that even Sebastian couldn’t see anything suspicious. It seemed that Lau was playing it safe for now.

“Ah, it is a pleasure to see you, Earl,” Lau said with a rather forced smile. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Are you here to buy one of my dreams?”

“I am afraid we require information,” Sebastian said with a bow.

“I am not surprised. I have so few customers lately . . . it seems that all of London lives in a dream; so few customers are prepared to buy what they already have. Do you dream, Earl? Do you dream that you are an Earl or are you an Earl dreaming you are Ciel Phantomhive? Dreams are such ephemeral things.”

Lau sat in a large chair at the far back of his private office, smoking from a long opium pipe that – from the scent of things – lacked any and all opium from its substance. It seemed that Lau had taken his new duties as a ‘respectable’ citizen seriously, or – at least – seriously insofar as avoiding being caught with any dangerous substances whilst being still under suspicion . . .

Ran-Mao sat in his lap with her arms around his neck, a pose that seemed more sexual than innocent, particularly when her bared legs rested over the arms of the chair and left Lao’s actual arm trapped somewhere beneath her legs and his lap. Sebastian felt an eyebrow twitch at the display. He could say that this was extremely tame by the events he had endured over his long lifespan, but this was not something he wished his master to see on a regular basis . . . he took his job as butler very seriously, and as such it was his job to protect his lord from such depravity. His only consolation was that at least Ciel learned about ‘inappropriate touching’ from Lau, rather than that redheaded vermin with an identity crisis . . .

“Look,” Ciel snapped, his hand tightening on his cane, “I don’t have time for the insane philosophies of the Chinese. If you wish to talk like Confucius then go do it with somebody else! I was supposed to be visiting you this evening, but thanks to your clumsy business practises that hasn’t exactly gone to plan. You can make up for forcing me to change my schedule by telling me what I want to know.”

“Aw, that’s not very nice now. I didn’t make you change your schedule, and the police tend to get bored after a week without leads . . . you could have come back in a fortnight or so. You’re sure mean for an earl.”

Ciel frowned and tried his best to hold in his temper. It caused the butler to look with eyes taut in curiosity and interest, as he observed his lord with a hungry expression that made clear his desire to see what would occur next. His lord was a very unpredictable creature, sometimes forgiving and sometimes vengeful, willing to take in a lost soul in one moment and willing to burn a full orphanage in another, it always kept Sebastian on his toes. Ciel groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Please, just tell me if you know of a Dorian Daniels or a Lady Grace.”

“Ah, yes!” Lau smiled and cocked his head to one side. “I see, but is there a reason why the Earl himself would grace us with his presence to ask a mere question? If there are any rats about in London you should leave them to the local cats, and Ran-Mao is just the deadliest kitten about.”

“Miaow,” Ran-Mao said without emotion.

The Chinese man ran his hand along Ran-Mao’s thigh, stroking in long and languid movements, and the young girl nuzzled into him as if she were perhaps – in fact – a real cat. Sebastian stared hard at her in contemplation. If only his lord could be more feline-like, then perhaps he would be more palatable in his daily life . . . then again he would have such a precious and beautiful creature tainted by the association of his lord or this young woman. Humans always ruined the best of things.

“Look, I have a job to do and I would rather you didn’t hinder my progression of said task,” Ciel said coldly. “There have been a spate of murders and of missing persons, and we have reason to believe that somehow – in some way – that the two are connected by a mutual past. I just want to know if you have heard of Lady Grace or of Dorian Daniels, and – if so – how the two are connected.”

“Hmm, yes, it certainly is cause for trouble. I can see why you would come to me.”

“Well, that is a relief. We have been travelling by carriage all day, the information we have on the matter runs rather thin, and frankly I was a little sceptical as to whether you would be able to help or not. I am glad to know that this was not a wasted trip.”

“It’s never a wasted trip when I get to see my dear Earl.”

“Indeed. Well . . . how are Lady Grace and Dorian Daniels connected?”

Lau paused in thought and his smile was temporally erased, instead a small frown overtaking his features as Ran-Mao looked to him in a serene deference. The pair looked made for one another. She fit his body perfectly, his arms coming around her in such a manner that there was no discomfort at all, and his head rested upon hers as if she did not care about such an action in the slightest. The two had almost become one, or at least as much as they could without scarring the mind of a child.

It was a few seconds later when Lau puffed from his opium pipe and blew out a long line of smoke, something that reminded Sebastian of the caterpillar from the story of Alice that he had recently read to his master . . . the smoke puffed around the room, billowing out and consuming the air it touched, and soon it wrapped its way around Ran-Mao and Lau. It hid them behind its veil. There was something dangerous about Lau, something that made Sebastian wish to keep him in his sights at all times, and the very fact he had been willing to risk killing Sebastian during a magic trick so many nights ago . . . it irked the demon and made him wish that the smoke were gone.

There were so many things that Sebastian disliked about this situation. The very fact that Lau appeared to be on a ‘throne’, treating his master as a mere servant in his domain, was frustrating to say the least, and that was to say little of his enigmatic ways and refusal to give a straight answer. It was almost like relinquishing control, and to a man suspected by the police of crimes that they had been sent to resolve . . . there was very little Sebastian could do though without an order.

“Well? Answer me.”

“Hmm, I would,” Lau said softly, “but . . .”

“But what?”

Lau paused in his meandering thoughts to look high at the ceiling. Sebastian followed his gaze to see the smoke spiralling about and blurring a mosaic of various Chinese scenes, and so many butterflies . . . the smoke distorted them, gave them life, and so they appeared to move and flutter as if they truly were brought forth into their world. It was enough to make one feel like they lived in a dream, and were one on the opium that Lau so provided . . . enough to drive one mad.

“But . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about, Earl. I’m sorry.”

“W-what?”

Sebastian fought back a smile as his little lord’s face puffed out like a small animal, his cheeks flushed as he glared daggers at the Chinese man, who – as expected – merely smiled warmly and largely at everything and nothing. Sebastian was rather relieved that the ‘yes-man’ had responded as expected, as with luck it would mean that they could return to the London manor for rest and respite. He would serve warm milk, read his master a story, and then return to his room to curse the fact a child could command him like a grown man. It would be a fairly relaxing night.

“You’re joking, aren’t you?” Ciel all but begged. “Please tell me that you know something. You have to have heard some slither of information.”

“Nope! I’m sure the Undertaker will know something though. Good luck, Earl!”

“How typical of a yes-man . . .”

Ciel tightened his hands into tight fists and huffed loudly. He then turned his head to one side with a cocky smile, almost as if he had expected this to occur all along, but the glimmer of frustration in his eyes made it clear that this was all an unexpected occurrence. He made a low chuckle in his throat and turned his back to Lau, waving at him as if to signal ‘that is all’. The Chinese man never let his own smile leave his face, and Ran-Mao merely watched with a disinterested gaze.

“Sebastian! We’re leaving!”

“Yes, my lord.”

//*//*// *//

“Ciel!”

Sebastian stood to one side with a dark smile as he watched his young lord become accosted by an unstoppable force, arms wrapping around him and holding him as if he were the sole lifeline in this musty manor. There was a rather sadistic enjoyment in the boy who feared touched succumbing to a mere ‘hug’, and as he watched Ciel he bathed in the feeling of enjoyment and justice.

The boy’s face was white as flour, his eyes wide to the extent that Sebastian almost feared his lord was in the midst of some flashback or panic attack, and his arms were so stiff and still by his sides that any more tension would surely break them. Sebastian held back a chuckle and narrowed his eyes dangerously upon the sight, allowing his master a moment of suffering just so long as it did no long-term damage or went against any orders. There was something both enjoyable and painful concerning his master’s pain. He sometimes had a terrifying feeling his desire to stop such pain went beyond his role of butler, but the expression on Ciel’s face soon quelled such a fear.

Soma was practically nuzzling against Ciel with tears streaming down his face, his grip so tight that he was practically suffocating the boy, and as he knelt down to molest Ciel’s person Agni stood behind him with eyes scrunched up nervously – as if trying to dispel such an emotive display from his sight – and his arms raised in a defensive and subduing manner. He seemed to wish to calm his master, but had no understanding of how to do so . . . he could do nothing to go against Soma’s wishes.

“C-Ciel!” Soma said, his voice broken through tears. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I – I could have thrown a party! I could have invited Lizzy and Lau and – and – and Agni could have made some curry-buns . . . and – and . . . Ciel!”

“W-would you please get off from me! I – I can’t breathe! My asthma!”

“Oh no! Really? Agni, do something! Ciel can’t breathe!”

“Jo ajna,” Agni replied.

Sebastian turned his head to one side and tried not to make eye contact. It was very difficult not to smile or laugh as his master’s useless plan failed as soon as it was put into practise, because even the most foolish of fools would have expected an excuse like ‘my asthma’ to bring out a powerful paternal instinct in the prince, who had dubbed himself ‘big brother’ to the little lord.

The white-haired servant at once took a hold of Ciel and brought him over to a chair that still loitered in the hall, he forced Ciel to sit and then forced him to bend over with his head between his legs, telling him to breathe deeply in and out whilst Soma yelled loudly and shuffled around for an inhaler. The prince looked under chairs and on tables and even patted Ciel’s coat down, all whilst Ciel fought back to sit upright and tell his butler off for his impudence in allowing such actions to occur. The commotion was so loud that Snake had appeared in a far doorway from a servant’s entrance, peering in what seemed like absolute terror.

“My lord is fine,” Sebastian said, intervening at last as he placed a hand on Ciel’s back and warned away Soma and Agni non-verbally. “The attack is gratefully very mild, and as such he seems fine.”

“O-oh, I-I’m glad,” Soma stuttered.

The prince immediately ran and hid behind Agni, his hands clutching so hard upon the much older man’s upper arms that Agni could not have moved freely even if he tried. He would only be able to move if he threw Soma physically from him. The Indian butler furrowed his eyebrows together as he looked loving and pityingly over his shoulder to his prince, looking at the trembling figure as his golden eyes screwed closed in fear of Sebastian, only a pile of purple hair visible over Agni’s shoulder.

“I am sorry that you had to discover our arrival from my master’s new footman,” Sebastian said, standing and taking his master up with him. “We were very rushed in our schedule and found ourselves obliged to drop in on an old friend first, and – as such – we sent Snake on ahead to alert you to our impending arrival. I am sure you greeted Snake with the utmost hospitality, perhaps you could do the same now with my master? He is dreadfully hungry.”

“Of course!”

Soma pulled away from Agni abruptly and – extremely pleased at the prospect of a purpose – he pointed dramatically to Ciel, whilst raising his head high and adopting a cocky and meaningful stare. His right hand was resting on his hip, sitting there in a manner that screamed of status and superiority, whilst his pointing left hand locked in on Ciel and made sure that the boy knew he was the centre of the prince’s attention. He then smiled and clicked his fingers in a way that Sebastian disapproved of.

“Come, Ciel!” Soma said, waving his hand across the hall as if displaying a vault of wealth that was his alone to own. “I will lay out a banquet like no other! Agni! Go prepare a feast fit for a king! Ah, but make sure the curry is mild! My little brother can’t stand spicy foods, can you little Ciel?”

“W-what? I can –”

“Nonsense! Agni, go at once! We’ll be waiting in the dining room.”

“Jo ajna.”

Agni bowed deeply and whisked himself away to obey his lord, and – on the way – bowed deeply to Snake and asked the young man to accompany him to the kitchens. Snake blushed and nodded his consent. He was still so unsure for a servant, so fragile as if ready to break, but their lord had made a wise decision bringing him with them, for perhaps now he would learn confidence and power from Agni. If they were lucky he would be shaped into a fine footman.

Soma, meanwhile, seemed ecstatic to have been able to perform a job. He had greeted Ciel and now arranged for him to eat a meal, fulfilling a need and contributing to the household, and – as such – he was filled with such pride that it could barely be comprehended. The prince seemed to find purpose and meaning in being needed, because to be needed was to mean that he was doing some service that no other could provide, he was proving his worth, and he was being a man. He was the only person to laugh in joy when he burned a cake, or smile when he broke a dish whilst washing it, or to even grow hyperactive in excitement at ordering the servants to do their jobs, and all because the very attempt – the very try – meant he was doing something, that he was changing into someone better, someone needed.

It was admirable that he wanted to change, more so that he wanted to grow up and was trying his best to be a more productive person, but at the same time Sebastian knew human nature all too well. Soma – like his lord – would never fully change. He may become a person who tried his best, but ultimately he would forever be the lazy prince who would rely on others to fulfil his every whim. It was amusing, like watching a baby-bird fly before its time . . . like watching his master try to succeed without the support of a demon . . .

“Come on, Ciel! It will be so much fun! Agni has made the most delicious curry with pualo as a side, but he might have included macher jhol with it. There’s mitha dahi for dessert, which I made myself! Agni made rasgulla if you prefer that! Do you want samosas too? We still have some left over from last night! It’s nothing special, but it’s homemade, and what’s better than homemade food? Come, come!”

Soma wrapped his arm around the young lord and gently pulled him across the hall and to the dining room, muttering in a mixture of Bengali, Hindi and English in his utmost excitement. The sounds of the Indian languages were pleasant. It reminded Sebastian of an Indian demon he had once met in passing, the language something exotic and yet familiar, something that floated in the air and twisted and turned like a teasing mistress. It was impossible to capture, impossible to comprehend, and for its elusive nature was made all the more pleasant.

“S-Sebastian can eat with Agni later, if he wants?” Soma said uncertainly, causing Sebastian to break out of his thoughts. “Agni doesn’t mind eating with me now, but he always refuses to eat with me when we have guests . . . is that typical of butlers?”

“Yes, Prince Soma,” Sebastian said with a smile.

The prince stood at the dining room doors with Ciel positioned carefully in front of him, his posture slightly hunched as if in fear, but the way he directed his questioned made it seem as if he were asking Sebastian. How was it he was able to go from confident to afraid in a matter of seconds? Sebastian bowed a little and kept his smile prominent on his face, learning long ago that sometimes a smile could evoke more fear than a scowl ever could.

“I am afraid that as a butler could never dream to reach the level of his master,” he said, looking dangerously to Ciel, “that to have the audacity to assume ourselves equal would be getting ideas far above our station. It would be a dereliction of duty, and were I to eat with my lord or to act as an equal I would no longer have any right to call myself one hell of a ‘butler’.”

“S-so Agni shouldn’t eat with me at all?”

“I do not know how servants are treated in India,” Sebastian said carefully, “but here there would be no conceivable circumstance where it would be allowed. Agni is your friend and you are his idol, as such what you do alone is your business . . . in public I imagine Agni is aware of the impropriety and seeks to prevent any damage to your reputation. He will not eat with you so as to maintain the façade of a mere servant.”

“So he’s protecting me?”

“That would be my guess, Prince Soma. No matter how my lord would have me act in private, I would never act as his ‘equal’ in public, or at least not so long as I call myself ‘butler’ . . . we are – after all – far from equal.”

The dark and seething look that Sebastian sent Ciel was missed entirely by the young prince, but – as it happened – not by Ciel. The young lord saw the hunger and venom in the gaze and withstood it, sending an equally livid look to the butler, both of them rivals in contempt and constantly battling for power. It was a battle not seen to outside eyes, but both knew that any attempt to hurt or humiliate the other would always be seized upon, just so long as no lasting harm was done or that no pain was inflicted upon their own selves in the process. Sebastian wondered how his lord could trust him, and what it could mean to trust someone so completely whom you truly felt was utterly beneath you. It was strange indeed.

“That is enough talk of servants,” Ciel spat. “Sebastian, open the doors for us.”

“Yes, my little lord.”

“Bastard,” he whispered so that Soma would not hear.

Sebastian repressed a chuckle as he opened the doors for the two teenagers. Soma at once burst in and spun around, taking in the décor as it were the first time upon seeing it, and – at once – he began to fuss about with decorations and adjusting the curtains and candles for light. It did not strike him to ask a maid to do these things for him, and Sebastian could only assume he was relishing in proving how much he had learned in Ciel’s absence . . . even if the curtains were not fully closed this evening, or that the candles were odd sizes, or even that he was moving the cutlery into the wrong order . . . Sebastian subtly adjusted everything as Soma went along.

Ciel sighed and took a seat at the head of the table, gesturing for Sebastian to come close as Soma finished up and threw himself into the closest chair by his ‘little brother’, laughing warmly and draping an arm on the back of Ciel’s chair. Ciel ignored him. Ciel tended to treat ‘clingy’ people like he treated stray cats, with the mentality that if you treat them once they’ll be a persistent part of your life, and – like cats – he didn’t wish to encourage that closeness more than he had to.

“Ah! A letter arrived for you, my little Ciel!” Soma said, waving away a maid as she entered and then waving forth Snake when he saw him walk past. “Oh, your new footman! He’s so delightful! I want to keep him here forever and ever! Snake, would you fetch the letter for us? It’s addressed to Ciel and it’s on the table in the hall. Thank you! You’re so efficient!”

Ciel sighed as he watched Snake manoeuvre his way through the dining room and back out into the hall, and Sebastian could practically hear his master’s quickening heartbeat and little fingers tensing hard upon the armrest. The question of why Soma had waited so long to give Ciel his letter was lost on his lips. It would be futile to question Soma, for even if he had a reason for delaying the post he probably would not care, for what could be more important than a meal with friends? Sebastian wondered how his little lord would cope had he been a commoner, for who would fetch his letters then or hold his hand should he cross the street?

“Ah, Sebastian is smiling!” Soma said, clapping his hands together. “It is nice to see him happy, is it not? He frowns so much that I worry and he – he . . . well, anyway, who could be sad serving Ciel? It is such a happy place to be by Ciel’s side!”

“Hmm, is that right?”

Soma had little chance to respond when Snake came inside the dining room. He moved so slowly and elegantly that he had truly learned a lot in his time employed by the manor, but the uncertainty and fear were both still present in his eyes, almost as if with every step he took he felt afraid of failing or falling. He acted well, but the fear was ever present. Sebastian scowled just slightly, cursing his master for his choice in staff, wondering if he would need a word with the silent man.

Snake came and stood beside Sebastian, in his hands were a selection of letters that seemed to be from a variety of sources, some written in Bengali and others in English, and evidently Snake seemed to find difficulty in searching for the ones addressed to Ciel rather than other household occupants. It was difficult for him to do his job though, as at once Soma was on his feet – both hands flat on the table – yelling in joy as Agni entered with an array of servants carrying the main dishes of their meal. The plates were placed forth elegantly upon the table, each one smelling as fragrant and exotic as the last, each one as colourful and vibrant as its neighbour, and each one capturing Soma’s attention completely.

“Agni! Come stand by my side whilst I eat!”

“Jo ajna, you needn’t even ask, my prince,” Agni said with a deep bow and a bright smile. “Even when I am not with you, I am always by your side, for it is with you that I belong. Is there anything else you require, Prince Soma?”

“Well –”

“Could I please get my letter?”

Snake jumped a little and blushed, before quickly handing Sebastian a small letter that was meant for their lord. It was opened by the butler and read with a listless expression. The butler drew in a deep breath and handed it to the young lord, who then glared venomously upon the opened letter, observing it with such vile contempt that Snake appeared to wilt at such a sight. In a matter of second the paper was ripped to shreds and thrown upon the floor, much to Soma’s surprise.

“Damn that Alois Trancy,” Ciel spat. “Must he forever stalk me?”

“My Lord?”

“Sebastian, send a letter to that vermin to tell him that the day I willingly attend his party is the day that I bow to my butler. He must be delusional if he thinks I would ever attend such an event.”

“Of course, my lord, at once.”

“Good. Snake, please return to your duties.”

“B-but, my lord –” Snake began . . .

“Now, Snake.”

“Y-yes, Earl Phantomhive.”

Snake bowed as deeply as he dared and quickly scurried back out of the room, leaving the sounds of Soma’s loud laughter and Ciel’s dark complaints far behind. It was a rather deafening den behind him, something that made him feel nervous as he tried to discern various voices and found them merging as one, and there was something terrifying about adding his own voice to the masses, to compete against betters to be heard. There was solace in silence.

He quickly went back into the hall and went to the table upon which the letters were kept, because it seemed that Prince Soma didn’t quite keep a normal household, leaving the letters in easy reach of any of the servants. It worried him that the prince seemed to not run things as they should be run, especially when he was not aware of just how many letters there were or to who they were addressed, because it meant that things would go missing or may be missed by mistake. The letters in his hand were mostly to the prince, but one was to his lord and it seemed to be very important. It was not unusual for Soma to have missed it, but the writing was so different to any of the writing Snake had seen in his time serving . . .

He would have to give the letter to Sebastian later.

He hoped it could wait . . .
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Devil's Smile