A Young God (P h a n t o m h i v e) [Kuroshitsuji 4]

Chapter XII: The Enemy

Forever cursed in love are the observant, 

Forever a slave to detail.....

When I awoke, I was alone.

The last thing that I had remembered was the pair of us entwined in silken sheets, curled up on the bed, but now – Ciel had disappeared (not before making sure I was adequately covered by what was left, I intoned). He'd vacated the room. We'd fallen beside each other and drifted off almost immediately after the act, the emotional exhaustion of the tense discussion before us getting the better of our minds. So, he wasn't sleeping. In an effort to preserve some modesty, I plucked his starched white shirt from the ground and pulled it over my person, tying up the middle two buttons. I had the danger of catching a chill if I hadn't covered myself, in any case.

It was a nerve-wracking experience, tip toeing from the room, out into the hallway. The house was completely dead. I hadn't made a habit of roaming around the corridors once everyone else had gone to sleep, lest I get caught by Sebastian (I was positively certain that man never stopped working) and reprimanded. Even though, logically, I knew that Bard and Mey Rin had no hope of catching me in my walk of shame, I still trod lightly; floorboards, creaking underneath my bare feet, set my heart racing violently. Where could he be? I had a limited amount of doors to open before the organ in my chest gave out completely.

Not in the library – no. The room was cold and uninviting, almost completely shadowed, save for the few patches of ground that were lit by the moonlight. His study, perhaps. His business, his company, it was never far from his mind of late; it plagued him incessantly, and I longed to know why. Perhaps now, I would discover the reason.

Ciel disliked the sound of opening doors disturbing his work should someone bring him tea, or supper, so Sebastian kept the entrance to the office in impeccable working order. It was why he didn't register my coming as I slipped past the mahogany beast, transitioning from cold wood to warm carpet, completely silently. He'd pulled his trousers on; this, I caught as I studied his pale figure, illuminated by the liquid silver that poured through the window panes opposite. Devoid of a nightshirt, I could quite easily see the brand that he had exposed to me earlier on in the night. It was a dark, dark brown, and had the look of a healing wound, almost. A cruel souvenir to remember the cultists by, one that I was glad he could not see unless in self examination by a mirror. He disliked it enormously.

He'd taken the phone and was sitting, very ungentlemanly, on the edge of his desk, the receiver in one hand and the mouthpiece in the other. Ciel seemed to be listening intently to something on the end of the line, his head nodding. It appeared that he'd brushed his hair back from his face forcefully by using a hand to comb, a gesture that I usually took to mean he was concentrating.

"Of course. I haven't the faintest idea who might be conspiring to ruin my business, Constable. This is the fourth attack this year, it can hardly be coincidence. Yes... Of course, your men will have full access to the crime scenes. It troubles me to think that the young man suffered due to an entrepreneur with a grudge. Mhm. Yes. I can assure you that Sebastian will be staying out of this matter. Yes, yes. I am aware that vigilantism is only a hindrance to your operation, as you have said so many times before... please, notify me if you come across new evidence. I would be very much appreciative to hear from you in the next week or so. Alright. Thank you for keeping me informed on the situation, Constable. Goodnight."

"It's quite cold," I murmured, causing the young Lord to almost leap from his skin in a moment of complete surprise. I could count how many times I had caught Ciel unawares on one hand, and this moment made the list (with some grim satisfaction). "You must be perished."