Weeks passed, and the two teens hadn’t seen each other since their promise to stay friends. True, they still considered themselves as friends, but with weeks away from one another, they began to forget little things about one another.
One bright, sunny day, Justine wandered London with Sebastian and the young master they were bound by servitude; his name, Ciel Phantomhive. The boy’s black hair had an odd blue tint to it in the light under his black top hat. The black eye patch over his left eye was hidden in his mess of hair as he walked the streets. His right deep ocean blue eye watched critically where he was going as his scrawny, thin arms swung out from under his dark blue cloak, opening it just enough to allow others to see his blue suit and shorts over his black boots.
As they walked in their small trio, it was painfully obvious she was the butler’s daughter from how he kept her in his line of sight at all times. One man, in particular, saw Justine huffing and stomping in anger. The man was prone to overreact. “Such a beautiful maiden, trapped within the clutches of her beastly master. Fear not, my beauty; I shall save you in armor that shines as brightly as my eternal love for you!” Just like that, he started sneaking by.
“Dad,” Justine sighed. “can I run into that store and get that hat? I’ve been saving my money for, like, ever!”
Sebastian glanced at the store she referred to and thought for a moment before smiling at Ciel. “Master, is it alright if we stay out here so I may watch my daughter through the window?”
“Fine. We’re not in a hurry anyway.” the master stated in boredom. Justine smiled and hugged her father before weaving through the crowd.
She was just about to pay for the hat she so much wanted before a man turned her around. This new face had long light blond hair and slanted purple eyes. As she looked him over, she noticed that either this guy was an angel, or this guy just really liked the white and purple combo.
He ran one of his gloved hands through her dark hair. “My, my, little kitten, why ever would you buy that hat?” he asked in a rude tone, but his voice hypnotized the teen in a way. “This is a hat that suits you much better.” he stated, pulling out a hat twice the price.
Justine bit her lip and backed away. “No thank you.” she stated. “I can’t afford that one.”
“No need!” the mystery man stated with a smile before giving the cashier the money needed for the hat in his hand.
Justine eyed the hat the stranger held before smiling oddly. “I couldn’t possibly accept this Mr…”
“Chamber.” he finished for her with a small bow. “Aleister Chamber, the Viscount Druitt.”
“…Mr. Chamber,” she repeated before clearing her throat. “I appreciate the thought, but I simply couldn’t accept it.”
“Of course, you can.” he insisted, placing the hat on her head and turning her to a mirror. “See? You already look much better.” As Justine gazed at her reflection, Aleister leaned in and smiled. “I’m fairly new to this side of London. Would you do me the honor of showing me around?”
Her green gaze flashed to the window Sebastian stood behind as his own red eyes glanced at passing people before returning to her in the crowd. “…You see, the thing is that my father is waiting for me just outside, and I need to get back to him.”
“At least allow me to see to it that you have a proper dress to go with your new hat. It’s the least a gentleman could do for a lovely little kitten such as yourself.” Without warning, Aleister snatched her arm and pulled her to a back room.
When Justine took in a sniff of the room she was guided to, she started to feel a little dizzy. “Do you smell something?” she asked. “It almost smells like knock…out…gas…” And she was out.
“Your senses are very acute, fair kitten.” he smiled, picking up Justine and carrying her out the back way. “I sprayed a fair amount of perfume in there so you wouldn’t smell the knockout gas. Applause to your heightened sense of smell.”
. . .
Sebastian narrowed his eyes in worry as he scanned the crowd. He couldn’t understand what took Justine so long to come out of the store. “…Master,” he stated with slight worry showing. “may we enter that store? Just to be certain that Justine is alright.”
“If you must, then I understand.” Ciel sighed before taking the lead in the shop.
The two entered, looking around in the crowd before an overly happy woman showed up from nowhere. From her plain attire, they assumed she was an employee. “May I help you two boys with something?”
“I’m looking for my daughter.” Sebastian explained before Ciel had the chance to get out a sound. “Have you seen her? She’s about this tall, reddish brown hair about this long, bluish green eyes, purple glasses, was wearing a red shirt and black sweater and pants when she entered here,” He continued the description as the woman smiled and nodded.
“I’ve seen her.” she said happily. “She was headed over there with someone.”
“Do you know who?” he asked hurriedly.
“Of course, I do~! Who doesn’t know the Viscount Druitt? Poor thing was being dragged off. Never saw her come out, maybe they’re still in there.”
“Thank you.” the butler said in a hurry before he sprinted in the direction the woman pointed him in.
As he approached the door, Ciel rushing to catch up, he sniffed the air and stopped the young master from coming any closer. “What is it?” he asked.
“This room is highly polluted in knock-out gas.” Sebastian warned, an edge of worry in his tone as his breathing quickened.
To this, the boy Earl was confused. “Aren’t demons immune to knock out gas or something?”
The demon looked down at the boy, not changing his expression of worry. “Demons build up immunity to everything just like humans evolution. I, myself, wasn’t immune to this gas until I was a little younger than Justine, and it still gives me headaches if I indulge in it. This room is overflowing with it.”
The young Earl tilted his head in thought. “If we are truly against Druitt in this, then we need help.”
“Who better to ask than the mother?” Sebastian smiled as he finally relaxed at the thought of ending this plot just as quickly as he usually does (because that would make this story short and boring, let’s mix it up a little).
. . .
“Sorry, can’t.” Grell sighed nonchalantly as he flipped through a book titled ‘Tom Brooks-Lambert’ lazily when the two came to him for help and already explained the situation.
“Justine is your daughter too!” Ciel shouted loud enough to cause an echo in the library filled with books on every being on the planet as they all simultaneously updated themselves and reapers around the large, grand room looked over the written lives of their targets. “You’re her mother!”
“I’m also a reaper.” the reaper in red added shamefully, snapping the book shut and placing it down before uncrossing his legs and standing, using his arms to exaggerate his words as he approached his ex-husband and the young noble. “Though I am burning in anger and worry, Will already tied my hands in this matter. He laid down the neutral law, I can’t intervene.”
With that, Grell was pulled away by William’s snapping scythe as the short haired reaper stated quickly and efficiently, “So sorry for Justine. We’ll keep a watchful eye out, and that’s all we can do for now.”
Sebastian stayed silent, sulking in the corner uncharacteristically. In the glowing white room, the crow curled up in the corner with a growing, dark and unidentifiable shadow that spread up to the top of the book selves and out across the rows of varying sized books based on how long the people lived. To this point, as the Phantomhive watched his butler, he started to grow afraid of this new, changed, not exactly improved Sebastian Michaelis. “Sebastian! I order you, STOP SULKING ALREADY!”
The butler turned to Ciel and nodded, brushing away any leaking fluids from his bold red puffy eyes as he sniffed. “Y-yes my Lord.” he said shakily, slowly getting to his feet and struggling to stand straight as he let his face go numb. If he can’t show an expression that is helpful to his master, then why should he show an expression at all?
“I don’t like this…this…parent side of you. Quite honestly, it scares me, makes me wonder if you can do your job correctly at all being a full-time butler AND father. I pray you prove me wrong; I rather enjoy Justine’s company.” Sebastian took in a silent, shaky breath before Ciel asked, “There has to be someone else who can help.”
The demon glanced at the Earl. “…There is one other option, but…you might not like it, young master. I don’t exactly care much for this idea myself.” he informed, mumbling the last part to himself.
Ciel slouched his shoulders and sighed. “If it gets you to stop being so emotional, then I don’t care.”
“It would be wiser to go home and send them a letter instead of confronting them directly.” Sebastian stated, already beginning to head to the Phantomhive manner.
“Why is that?” the boy Earl asked, walking side by side with the now expressionless servant.
“…I struck their butler not too long ago; they might interpret it as an attack rather than a request for help.”
. . .
At the Trancy Estate, Angel was still waiting out her father from requesting her knowledge as well as Hannah’s empty pleas of innocence. She was simply painting on her easel when there was a knock at the door. “Forget it dad!” she called with a sigh. “I’m not talking, and you can’t make me!”
“I’m not here for that this time!” Claude called on the other side of the door. “I came here to give you your mail.”
After a moment of silence, several clicks and bolts were heard before the knob turned and a golden brown eye peeked out. “…I have…mail?” Claude nodded as he revealed the envelope. In the top corner of the sealed paper, it read, ‘Angel B. Faustus, Trancy Manner’, and sealing the envelope was the waxy seal of the Phantomhive symbol.
Quickly, Angel snatched the envelope and shut the door as all the locks were pushed back in place. Claude just gaped at the action as he simply stood there. “Do you plan on hiding in there forever?”
“Yup!” the teen called back as she ripped open the envelope and read the note. What was inside the letter made her want to change her answer.
I, Ciel Phantomhive, Earl of the Phantomhive manner, request that you assist me and my butler, Sebastian Michaelis, recover his missing daughter, Justine S. Michaelis. We want nothing more than her safe return, and we believe you wish for that as well.
If you succeed in your assistance and aid, you will be duly rewarded with whatever you would like that is within my power.
-Ciel Phantomhive, son of Vincent’
After reading the letter several times, she finally understood what was going on. Her friend was missing, now she was being asked to help by the very demon who her father spoke ill of since she was just a little puppy. Slowly, she unlocked every bolt and chain that connected the door to the frame, opening it slightly to see Claude still standing in the hall. “…I’m only coming out to help Ciel and Sebastian.”