Kuroshitsuji Fan Fiction ❯ Commodities ❯ Chapter 5: London ( Chapter 5 )

Commodities: Chapter 5

There he was again, walking the cobblestone streets of London as if he had never left. The buildings lay in jagged ruins all around him, but he kept the same detached air as if he was passing shops waiting to open in the misty morning. It all seemed to be the same to him, carnage or order just shifted back and forth like a pendulum in time. It swung to build one decade and destroy the next, keeping perfect time to the ages of man. Honestly though, Sebastian preferred the order to the chaos.

The smell from rising from the street was a nauseating mix of ash and rotting flesh, with the decidedly acidic stench of burnt blood wafting on the moist morning breeze. It did not smell unlike places in Hell he had been, but it was not a mix of smells Sebastian enjoyed either. He would tolerate it as long as he needed to, given that his only reason for being able to cross back into the human realm was a contractual technicality. Otherwise he would have had to been summoned back.

“Well how interesting,” a voice from the ally chirped as Sebastian passed by, “I thought the little dog was dead.”

Sebastian smiled wickedly to himself. Who knew that he could be such good bait, even in the aftermath of a disaster, “Grell Sutcliff,” he purred, “I thought I might find you here.”

“Well of course,” the other said, stepping confidently from the shadows. He held his chainsaw loosely by his side as he walked, looking cheerful but tired. He raised his narrow shoulders and smiled a toothy grin, “I've been here all night, cleaning up souls of the dearly departed.”

Sebastian appraised Grell from head to foot, then let his gaze wander back to his face. He knew the Shinigami saw him do it by the flush that rose to the godling's cheeks. It was the perfect setup. “You look like a complete mess.”

It was strange how those few words from the demon changed his mood. Grell cast his eyes down self consciously, uncharacteristically embarrassed. He hadn't given it much thought when he saw Sebastian in the street, but now he really wished he hadn't been so hands on with his work. He was covered in gritty ash from head to toe, with dark smudges across his cheeks and nose. His usually crisp red and white neck tie was loose and uneven, twisted around itself and stained with soot. He knew his shirt was a sad sight and was pretty sure he had lost a button from his vest at some point during the night. Grell pulled his red coat close around his shoulders with his free hand, his usual vivacious spirit cowed, “So, where is the little Earl?”

Sebastian let a small smile play along his lips, “It's funny you should ask, actually.”

“I absolutely can't do that, Sebastian, not even for you.” Grell said hotly, shoving his back against the alley wall and crossing his arms. “I would be out of a job.”

“You never seemed concerned with it before, seeing as you helped murder all those women.” Sebastian countered easily. “Jack the Ripper.”

“I was infatuated,” he pouted. “You can't hold me responsible for that. I am a creature of temptation, easily led astray.”

Sebastian closed the distance between them, swiftly untying the striped ribbon which lived around Grell's neck before securing it in a perfect bow beneath the collar of the shinigami's shirt, “Ah so then, can I lead you astray? If you are such a creature as you claim, it should be easy for me to unyoke you.”

A warm shiver prickled Grell's skin at the prospect. The demon was so dangerous and because of that, so attractive. Grell met Sebastian's smoldering gaze carefully. He wanted to give in so badly and the other knew it. That small familiar smile curved against the edge of the demon's mouth said so, satisfied as a cat.

In his mouth, Grell ran his tongue against the pointed tips of his teeth nervously. He would have given anything for this to happen a year ago. But the consequences for masquerading as Jack the Ripper were still fresh in his mind with that strike already on his record; he realized losing his job would just be a small footnote to the real punishment. There was one other problem.

“I don't know how to do it,”

“Ah,” was Sebastian's only response. Yes, that was certainly a problem.

“I mean,” Grell said quickly, “It's possible. When a soul is devoured it doesn't get destroyed. I just don't know how to get to it, you know?”

“If you could do it, would you?” Sebastian asked dangerously.

“I can't,” Grell whispered pitifully, shrinking against the ally wall. His green eyes pleaded for easier decisions. He was no good at the complexities of choice and consequence. His spontaneous nature abhorred weighing options.

Sebastian cleared his throat, stepping away from Grell with two measured steps, “I can see I'm wasting my time and yours as well.”

Grell reached after him with one slender hand, “No, it's not like that.”

“It is,” Sebastian said.

There was finality in his tone that made Grell's fingertips go numb in the most uncomfortable way, “Why do you need him alive anyway? I was under the impression that-“

Sebastian cut him off, “If you are unable to help me, I need to be on my way.”

Grell's eyes grew wide, “You didn't fall in LOVE with that brat, did you?”

Sebastian gave him a withering look, “No, I certainly did not.”

And he hadn't. Ciel was tragic, but the heartstrings of a demon didn't work like that. If he had loved the boy he wouldn't have consumed his soul. That seemed obvious to Sebastian, but the low pulse of jealousy radiating from the green-eyed shinigami before him said it wasn't that obvious to him.

He knew what love was, once. Didn't he? Did he? It seemed like such a strange blur in his past. He wasn't supposed to love, and yet it happened. It happened…

Sebastian was no longer looking at him, his gaze focused somewhere in the distance beyond the alley wall. There were memories there, roiling to the surface like billowy smoke. Grell could almost see them as he stood waiting for Sebastian to come back to the moment. What amazing footage it would be to, this memory. There was a twinge of pleasure at the thought of cutting into his memories again, finding whatever was making the demon look so defenseless.

“The sea is my wishing stone,” she had said. “Whenever I need something, I wish for the sea to bring it to me, and it does.”

Sebastian remembered this day vividly. It was cold up on the bluffs with a stiff wind picking up from the North. The sea grass bent heavily against the gale, bowing in homage to the coming rainstorm. Heavy clouds swirled high above him, a steel grey sky against a steel grey ocean. It was not unlike the day he had come to this place. The only difference being that the storm was building, not ending.

Her hair was as wild as her soul, tumbling with the wind in damp curls around her head. He remembered the feel as he tucked some behind her ear. He wanted to see her face.

She smiled at him, turning to kiss his hand as he reached for her. There was no darkness for him that day. Even the oncoming squall was made beautiful by her company. This was love, wasn't it? This was his promise to her.

“Does the sea bring you everything you ask for?” He had asked, leaning against her. He could feel her skin against his own, warm despite the weather. She was always warm, always comforting to him. Was this what meant to be removed from Hell? So have no link to the dark? Was this peace?

“I think so,” she said thoughtfully, “But sometimes when I ask, I don't what I asked for in the way I expected.”

“How interesting,” he purred, settling his head against her thigh affectionately. To this day he remembered her feel of her delicate fingers on his hair, petting him gently. There was nothing like it in the world, or in any world. When he had met Ciel he had tried to convey that sort of feeling, to serve him by easing his troubled heart. The boy had only been made uncomfortable by his touch. Except at the end…

“When I was younger I read a story about pirates. It had adventure and fighting and treasure. It was a really good book.”

“Sounds like it,” he commented lightly, looking up at her with a smile.

“So I asked the sea for pirate treasure.”

“You are on an island,” he chuckled, “That seems like an easy wish.”

“Yeah,” she grinned, “But the sea didn't bring me a treasure chest or a pirate ship or anything like that.”

“It brought you treasure though?” he asked, intrigued that the ocean would listen to the whims of a young girl. It seemed unlikely.

“Yeah,” her smile grew wider, “I was digging on the shore about a week later and found a big piece of amber!”

“What luck,” he said, “What else have you asked for?”

“I asked for a dog, once,” she admitted.

How universally human, he had thought. They all wanted a dog at one point or another in their lives.

“But it didn't happen,” she said, looking a little sad, “A rat washed ashore though after a storm a couple days later instead.”

“Oh my, a rat.” He said in mock surprise.

“I took it in and nursed it back to health though. He was a really good pet!” she explained, “He would come when he was called, sit up for treats, and fetch things for me. He was even better than a dog.”

That was one of the things he remembered most about her; her unmatched love of all things. It didn't matter that it had been a rat and not a dog, or that she didn't get a chest of gold coins. She loved honestly.

“Was I something you asked for?” he asked, gently reaching up to touch her lips with his fingers. She had such beautiful lips.

“Yes,” she said, her voice low and soft, “I asked for love, and the sea gave me you.”

“Hm,” he said thoughtfully, looking out over the swirling tide. It wasn't quite like that. They had made a deal, an exchange for his life. As a demon, that was one thing he understood very very well.

“I know what you're thinking,” she said, following his gaze out to sea. “Our love is a contract. And it is that, but it is like the amber. Just because it didn't come in the obvious way, doesn't make it less of a treasure.”

Love, a treasure, fleeting as winter sun through the clouds. Never obvious, never perfect. But this was perfect to him. Was it love? Did he uphold their contract; was he able to carry such an emotion? He felt it, and it seemed so. But what did he know.

“You are my love, you are my treasure.” She sang, “You are the loyal wolf at my side. We howl, howl at the moon together and as it sets we take flight. You are my love you are my treasure. You are the tea leaves in my cup. We read, read our fortunes together with our destiny in sight. You are my love, you are my…”

A loud voice interrupted his thoughts, “Hello there!?”

Reality snapped back with a flash, melting his memory as quickly as a snowflake on the hand. It was so unfair.

“I don't know where your head wandered off to, but it's rather rude to just ignore me.”

Grell wasn't expecting the darkness which settled heavily in Sebastian's stare as it refocused on him. It was the first time the shinigami had seen anything so true to the demon's true nature revealed. The neutrality was gone, replaced with the bitter remains of an unfulfilled life of immortality. It made Grell want to run, actually. It made him realize just how dangerous Sebastian was.

“I'm sorry,” Grell said reflexively, scooting along the wall to put a little distance between them, “That was rude of me.”

Sebastian looked away, running a hand through his dark hair, “You are absolutely worthless.”

The redhead closed his eyes and tilted his head forward, chin resting against his chest. He was hearing that a lot lately; how burdensome he was, useless and in the way. He had an important job, didn't he? How could he be so unhelpful when he had such a vital role in human death?

He always let insults slide off his back. He knew who he was and he was comfortable with that. Even when Sebastian had insulted him in the past, he had ignored it. Better than ignored, he could almost find some of it complimentary. So why did it sting so much now? He didn't even know. Maybe it was the long night of work. He was tired.

“I have work to do,” he mumbled, “Goodbye Sebastian.”

He opened his eyes for the other's reply, only to find the demon was already gone. How typical of his kind, though not typical for him as an individual. Something was really bothering him to show such disrespect. That, or a lot of the traits Grell associated with him were footnotes to his contract with Ciel, not his natural disposition.

“Stupid brat,” he said sourly, thinking of Ciel. No one was around to hear him, but he didn't care. The more he dwelled, the more obvious it seemed. There had been something more between that boy and his butler. Maybe it wasn't love, but it was more than Sebastian was letting on. He knew he shouldn't care. But it was frustrating that a twelve year old human could get closer to the demon than he could; especially when he and Sebastian were much more similar to one another, maybe not in personality, but in situation. They were both immortals, right?

Hefting his chainsaw across his shoulder, Grell sulked back into depressing alley. Wispy smoke stains climbed the brickwork like claw marks. They may as well have been, given the carnage at the dead end. A group of children had taken a wrong turn in the chaos of the fire, dashing down the alley in hopes of escaping the inferno. Instead all the did was manage to trap themselves as it all burned around them, their only escape route blocked behind them by a falling beam from one of the roof overhangs.

Grell did not enjoy reaping children. For the most part they weren't particularly good, or particularly bad. They were just a collection of short mundane memories. When they were good children, the memories were usually about sharing. When they were bad, the memories were almost always about stealing or lying. It was nothing that piqued Grell's interest in the least. The only interesting bits happened when some unlucky kid had something bad done to them, and that was only so entertaining for so long. When Grell had said he had work, he meant it. The cinematic records were going to be as dry and boring as toast without butter.