Chapter Text
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The day in the Phantomhive manor starts early, as it often does. Sebastian wakes up before anyone else to attend to his usual duties: preparing the young master’s meals, ensuring the tidiness of the household, and managing the staff. And with each passing day, it only serves to accentuate the hole in his stomach, the primal hunger for eating, for consuming, only to be bound by a contract.
And yet, Sebastian, ever the efficient butler, has a specific routine for waking up his young master, the Earl of Phantomhive, the source and cause of his starvation. He steeps the earl gray tea to his master’s preference and enters the room quietly, allowing the aroma to gently rouse the boy from his sleep.
“Young Master, it is time to wake up.” He watches the bed covers shuffling and bumping as the young lord begins to wake. “As you are aware, today is a particularly busy day. On your agenda, you have afternoon tea with a few associates, and there is an important dinner with the Duke of Edinburgh later in the evening. Shall I prepare your attire for the day?”
He watches as his master sits up in bed and gives instructions after sipping his tea. Sebastian listens attentively while Ciel rises, and the boy’s scent engulfs the demon’s senses, only exacerbating his hunger. Yet, with a calm demeanor, he keeps his eyes averted, focusing solely on preparing the Earl’s attire.
Every moment he spends with the young master serves as a reminder of the restraining contract. The obligation to obey his commands as his butler against the primal thirst for his very soul. But the demon's hunger grows stronger everyday. Even the smallest tasks, the simplest interaction with him become a test for Sebastian’s willpower. Yet he takes pride in his self-discipline, his restraint and control, maintaining the facade of a perfect butler.
The demon’s vanity makes him perform each task with harmony and perfection.
Cleaning? Tiresome, but necessary.
Cooking? Dull, but keeps his master alive and satisfied.
Killing? Thrilling, only if it means a hunt.
The demon is indeed very patient. The contract binding him to Ciel stipulates that he will consume the boy’s soul once his goal of revenge is achieved. But as the years pass, Sebastian doesn't see the time as wasted. Instead, he takes pleasure in observing how Ciel's soul changes, how he grows more ruthless in pursuit of his goal, and how he becomes increasingly willing to sacrifice anything and anyone in his path. Sebastian's patience is not just a virtue, but a tool he uses to observe and understand the transformation of Ciel's character.
And yes, Sebastian takes great pride in Ciel's transformation. He knows his own influence and the power he has provided the Earl plays a significant role in the young boy's evolution. Make no mistake, the demon’s only resolution is his own satisfaction and vanity, he will always prioritize himself, no matter how human he might seem.
That night, after dinner with the Duke of Edinburgh turned out to be a fiasco, the young Earl sat behind his desk, his demon-butler faithfully standing before him as they discussed the strategy to find the culprit behind the slaughter of the Phantomhive family. The Earl’s own family.
The boy was chewing on a pencil, his eyebrows furrowed. “Every step forward is a step back. Every lead leaves us back in the same place as we started. We are going in circles.”
After placing a slice of chocolate cake on the desk, Sebastian moves the knight forward on the chess board. "Young Master, if you allow me to say, progress, or lack thereof, in a case such as this is not uncommon. The key is to remain patient and keep pushing forward, piece by piece.”
“Not fast enough.” Said Ciel, looking at his servant with frustration and observing his chess move. “And this affects you as well. The culmination of our contract relies on finding out the truth.” He glanced once more at the chess board. Queen to e4.
"Ah, such a promising move, as expected of my lord.” The demon’s calm demeanor remained unchanged. “It is true that my part in our contract depends on the revelation of truth. However, remember, young master, hunting requires patience and subtlety, much like a game of chess.” He moves his own knight in response, defending his position.
The young Earl fills his fork with chocolate frosting. “Patience. Aren’t demons impulsive creatures? Aren’t you waiting for the day you finally cash your prize?” He raises an eyebrow. Queen to g6.
A hint of smile plays on Sebastian’s lips, he keeps his voice level and composed. "Indeed, traditionally, demons are known for their impulsive nature. However, I've never been a traditional demon and I'm fully aware of the consequences if I were to act impulsively."
The demon stares at the board, observing the Earl's move. "Are you worried I might breach our contract? I assure you, my lord, I am a diplomatic man."
Ciel scoffs. "I am not doubting your ethic, Sebastian. I am merely testing your resilience and your resolve. After all, you must be ravenous."
"Ah, the young master is so observant tonight.” He grabs his knight, thinking of his next move. “Yes, my lord. Matter of fact…” –his knight blocks the Earl’s queen–. “I’m starving.”
There's a subtle tension in the air, a palpable sense of the power dynamic at play. The young lord smirks at Sebastian’s move. “Does waiting make me a more pleasurable meal?”
Sebastian's eyes narrow slightly at Ciel's mockery. He responds coolly, his expression neutral yet calculated. "Waiting may indeed make the meal more pleasurable, young master. Delayed gratification can enhance one's satisfaction, but it can also test one's patience. My hunger grows, but I remain resolute."
Ciel sighs, and makes his move, f5 knight to h6.
After some consideration, he adds: “When humans get hungry and can’t – for whatever reason– eat the main course yet, we would have an aperitif to suppress our hunger, while we wait to dine. And I ask this out of curiosity, as I have no resolution to satiate you, yet; in what ways could you make the hunger more bearable, as you wait for the main course to be done?”
Sebastian considers the young master's question and responds with a hint of a sly smile.
"I suppose there are certain... distractions that can momentarily alleviate my starvation. Engaging in activities that require my full attention, or experiencing sensations that are stimulating enough to shift my focus."
He glances up at Ciel, his eyes holding a suggestion of something darker. "Of course, as a demon, the nature of these distractions may not be... conventional, my lord." He chuckles. “However, I think your ears might be too young to understand.”
The young boy tosses the plate over the desk, a childish tantrum. “I have no idea what perversity you are referring to, but I think you should know better than to underestimate what I’m capable of understanding.”
Sebastian smiles gently, amused by the young master's reaction. He responds in a patient manner, just as when he's mentoring him: “Oh, my young master. As your tutor, you are of no age to know what I would refer to. But because you ask, I can tell you this: my sole inner urge is to possess, it's always been. So if I were to distract myself from eating, I would need to… –he positions his knight to check the Earl's queen– conquer and restrict. That’s my primal urge indeed, to possess and to dominate. To lead my prey to a corner where there’s no other choice but to surrender.
The boy was about to refute when Sebastian extended his palm in front of him, asking him to wait and be quiet. Sebastian was turning toward the door, he could hear the agitated footsteps of the servants at the other side of the manor. Something had distraught them, a threat, possibly. He tried to listen if this was about a mouse or a burning turkey, but the service telephone went off. Quickly, Sebastian picked it up, looking at the concerned expression of his master.
It was Mey-Rin, her tone was serious in contrast to her usual aloofness and shyness around him. “We have an intruder. Bard is unconscious and wounded.”
His expression remained calm and collected, as he closed his eyes to identify the location of the human who dared to enter his master’s domain, and yet, he couldn’t identify anyone. If someone were to step through the gates of the manor, he’d know.
“Mey-Rin, position yourself on the roof, to see if you can spot anyone. If something moves, you shoot, understand?”
“I do.”
“Put Finnian on the telephone.”
The young gardener’s breaths were spiked. “Sebastian, I haven’t seen anyone… I don't understand how…”
“I want you outside of the master’s studio in 10 seconds.” He hung up.
The young Earl stood up quickly, his fists on the desk. “Am I in danger?”
Sebastian hesitated and they heard Finnian knock. Immediately, the demon told the young servant with superhuman strength to guard the studio. He turned to look at Ciel: “If you sense there is danger, call me immediately, even at the smallest suspicion.”
And he made his way toward the kitchen, where he felt the body of Bard, the cook, laying on the floor.
He examined Bard's injury, it was non-fatal, he had been hit with a piece of wood. However, they did not intend to kill him. Was their intention only to cause a disturbance, yet, to what end?
There is an uneasiness about this, there was no other human presence other than his master’s and the servant’s. Would this be the work of a shinigami? No, the only shinigami he knows capable of doing this wouldn’t waste time on attacking a servant.
This is what happened: the intruder wanted to stay hidden to achieve his motive, but was seen by Bard, and hit him just hard enough to get rid of him temporarily. The intruder is capable of hiding his presence. The intruder is intelligent enough to know how to attack a veteran, ruthless soldier.
And most importantly, the intruder could be anywhere.
There was a distinct thrill and anger harboring in Sebastian’s stomach. His sole focus right now is finding whoever is inside, before he tries to attack his young master. He had already taken a lot of time raising the child, to shape him to his own delight, only for someone to snatch him away. Not when he’s this close, not when it’s only a matter of time to finally claim his soul.
He would turn the manor upside down if it meant to find the intruder, and yet, he was interrupted by the sharp sensation of a blade against his skin, a single drop of blood beginning to trickle down his neck.
Sebastian’s eyes opened wide as he realized the intruder was no other place but right behind him. No one had been able to catch him off guard, no one had been able to threaten him with a weapon before, no one had even gotten that close without him being aware of it.
“Who dares?" Sebastian's voice is low and dangerous, his body tense as he tries to control his anger and the instinct to transform into his demonic true self.
“Is nothing personal,” a soft, feminine voice soothes behind him.
A woman. He is unused to such a surprise attack, but he does not show any fear or confusion. He composed himself. "If it is not personal, my lady, then why are you threatening me with a blade at my throat?"
The knife punctured further at the butler’s skin. “You are the target.”
Sebastian coughs, the pain is sharp. "I see. And what exactly gives you the impression that I am the target you are looking for?" He could easily remove the knife off his throat, but he is buying time to assess the situation.
The blade begins to slide. “You are the one without a presence, too.”
The demon chuckles, his eyes beginning to shine crimson red. With his acute strength, he hits the woman with his elbow, turning around at what seemed to be light speed to disarm her.
It had happened so fast she hadn’t even seen it coming, but it was impressive how far along she got. If she hadn’t wasted time talking, Sebastian’s human form would have been killed.
The demon is surprised by looking at the frail woman he’s restraining against the floor, her eyes are opened wide, not in fear but as in horror. There are many ways to die, but even an assassin doesn’t imagine herself being ripped apart by a dark mass.
Sebastian's smile glistens, the only thing she sees besides a pair of bright red eyes. "And who gave the order to target me?" The voice was grave and deep, nothing like the butler’s voice she just heard.
She’s not stupid to not see she’s not making out of this alive. They hadn't warned her of this, and her eyes narrowed in plea, it was an apology. She was not seeking mercy, she was saying sorry. He anticipated a more defiant or fearful response from her, rather than this unexpected display of sorrow. This confused Sebastian further, as she began to chew and swallow.
“What in hell are you doing?” Sebastian’s form compacted again back to human; afterall, her eyes were closed as a dark liquid began to spill off the corners of her mouth. She begins to cough, and the realization hit him.
“Poison? No. You are not killing yourself.”
Sebastian tears open each cabinet in the kitchen, urgently searching for a specific jar. He knew of this poison all too well, spies kept it as a capsule on their mouths, only to be ripped open to avoid capture and maintain loyalty. He had seen it used maybe fifty years ago.
Who is this woman?
He opened her mouth with his thumb and poured the drug down her throat, which must’ve been burning by the poison. “You are going to live, and you are going to answer all my questions.” He flipped her to her side to prevent her from choking.
Just at this time, Bard began to groan, wincing in pain. With a hand on the back of his head, he half sat up. “What the fuck?”
“Are you well enough to sit?” asked the butler, still attending to the intruder.
“Yeah.. yeah… a son of a bitch hit me. Wait, who’s that woman?”
"That 'son of a bitch' that hit you is also the woman on the floor here. I'd think a retired soldier like yourself would still remember his training on poisoning." He looked back at the woman, his tone hardening. "Now, we need to find a way to force her to answer our questions."
Bard kept looking at the woman, still hazy from the blow he received. Any other normal person would’ve had a concussion. “Poison… wait is that…?”
Sebastian nodded gravely, confirming Bard's suspicions. "Yes, it is cyanide. She ingested it the moment I disarmed her, so we're in a time crunch here."
The wounded cook tried to remember his training as a soldier, “Ah, I think I know the way, we need…”
“That’s all I need to know,” He nodded. "Go." He says simply, letting Bard take control.
Bard gets up, wincing a little from his injury as he goes to gather the supplies he will need. Meanwhile, Sebastian stands up, swiping off any dust from his knees and pressing a napkin against his neck. “I’m gonna go check on the master. And Bard…”
The cook pauses in his preparations as Sebastian speaks, giving him a small, sly grin.
"Yeah?"
“Do your best to keep her alive. We are hiring her.”