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Nightly incursions against the manor were common.
At first, they were regular looters. The Phantomhive mansion was supposed to be cinders, as far as anyone else knew, a deserted river of ash from which to pan their heirloom gold. Yes, their initial raiders had been purely opportunists. Unsuspecting and unarmed vagabonds, the strays who didn’t anticipate needing more than a knife and a quick hand if that.
Sebastian had disbanded them all with ease, of course.
It didn’t stop more from coming.
Perhaps the thieves had noticed how so few came back, numbers thinning thanks to his black hole of a butler. Perhaps word had carried far and wide regarding the miraculously fast rebuild of his home. The sudden appearance of a fully restored estate had brought forth questions that could only be answered by seeing it in reality. No matter how impossible it seemed, the Phantomhive name and manor still stood. What could that mean, except that the name had power back behind it as well?
They stopped coming unarmed.
That was no surprise to Ciel either, nor was it a genuine concern. Bullets did nothing against Sebastian.
One night was different.
They were daring enough to come before Ciel was in bed.
Ciel strolled the gardens, Sebastian at his side. It wasn’t quite dusk, but the sun was already hidden behind the distant treeline. Ciel scanned a letter in his hands, speaking as he walked down the paths he knew by heart. “As far as manufacturing goes, we have our pick of local sugar refineries-”
Sebastian halted. He suddenly pushed down on Ciel’s shoulder.
“Young master, take cover.”
The first shot whizzed high over Ciel’s head even before he ducked behind a hedge. By the distant and muffled cry of pain followed by a thud against the ground, Ciel assumed Sebastian had already dealt with their assailant. By Ciel’s estimate, Sebastian was closer to the woods than the garden, picking off any who had been unwise enough to gather in a group for him.
Ciel silently drew his pistol out of his pocket. Sebastian would protect him no matter how many of them there were, but it would be idiotic of him to not be prepared. He stayed crouched, listening to Sebastian’s deadly dance fell more and more of them.
Despite the circumstances, Ciel was calm. There was a comfort in the weight of the gun in his hand and the occasional pulse of magenta light behind his eyepatch.
It was so absurd he almost wanted to laugh. After all he’d been through, a demon was the most reassuring presence he had. Empty things like soothing words, human promises, or the trappings of a home which could be taken away at any moment had no effect on his heart anymore.
This is what adults had, wasn’t it? Power enough in their own hands to not need anything else.
With that trace of a thought in his mind, his eye caught movement around the other side of the garden. Sebastian could outflank them in no time, but Ciel still cocked his gun.
Of course, it wasn’t just a lack of common sense or nerve which had drawn them out so early. They knew to loop around and go after Ciel. These men were would-be kidnappers, then. They’d hoped to catch Ciel outdoors with only one guard, as helpless as could be.
Ciel waited until he could hear footsteps to whip around the corner of his cover. He caught a glimpse of a dark blur that had to be Sebastian, already snapping necks of the secondary party, but there was a moment where a few were still rushing for Ciel’s hiding spot.
He fired.
Just like target practice.
The man closest to him fell in a dead heap.
Just like target practice.
Yet, despite how he braced for the familiar recoil and his confidence in his shooting, thanks to Sebastian’s training, Ciel’s hands trembled as he pulled the trigger again.
Just like target practice.
This time his bullet hit the invader in the leg, eliciting a shout before Sebastian silenced him.
Just…
Ciel breathed hard, even though he’d barely moved. He didn’t dare lower his weapon until scanning to make sure there were no more intruders, but no matter how many times he double checked, he impulsively looked back and forth again and again. Could there be more? How could he be sure?
His hands kept trembling. He was gripping the gun so hard his knuckles were white, teeth grit as his heartbeat in his ears drowned out anything else.
It seemed to him that the passing breeze was a voice on the wind, that a butterfly drifting across his vision was a moth with a wicked four-eyed pattern on its back, and that he was kneeling inside of a cage with his ankle shackled to the floor—
Kill them, kill them, kill them! Kill them! KILL THEM!
“My lord, they’re dead.”
Ciel gasped, realizing he’d been chanting aloud.
Sebastian carefully pried Ciel’s fingers off of the pistol, setting it aside as Ciel shuddered from head to toe. He draped a protective arm around Ciel’s shoulders, drawing him close in a half embrace. Had Ciel been more in his right mind, he would’ve fought it, but he couldn’t be bothered to resist. “It’s over. You’re safe, young master.”
He swallowed, remembering how to speak. “You’re certain?”
“Of course.”
“How did they get so close?”
“They aren’t any closer than others I’ve put a stop to, but I shall endeavor to not let you be entangled in such unsightly business next time.”
Unsightly.
“Show me.” Ciel picked the gun back up and stood, walking to where he’d shot the two men. Sebastian followed close behind. He wondered if Sebastian wanted to tell him to step back, but Sebastian didn’t protest.
They got close to the two outlines on the ground. Ciel stopped, looking down at them.
As far as bodies went, he’d seen far worse. The first one he’d shot only had the one wound to speak of and hardly any blood stained the ground that he could tell. The other’s leg had twisted with the breaking of bone and the fall to his death, courtesy of Sebastian’s strike to the back of his head.
“Are you alright?” asked Sebastian, voice as level as ever.
Ciel was surprised at his own composed tone. “I’ve never killed before.”
Sebastian stood in front of him, peering down as he was so fond of doing, bent at the waist in a mimicry of submission. “My my, is that how you see it?”
“See what?”
Sebastian huffed with amusement. “Surely you jest, master. I can attest to many corpses your will has created.”
“My will, but not my hands before this moment.”
“Hmm.” Sebastian tapped the barrel of the pistol in Ciel’s hand, eyebrows raised. “What’s the difference, really, between you pulling the trigger or giving me a command? Both of us are mere tools to secure your goal of survival.”
Ciel looked down again. It was getting more difficult to make out the details as sunlight died for moonlight to reign over the sky. Some part of him wanted to turn away, but another was morbidly fascinated with the dead eyes staring back at him under disheveled bangs. “It’s different, or it’s supposed to be.”
He inhaled, shaking his head and barking out something like a laugh.
“I don’t feel anything.” Ciel rubbed his face with his free hand. “All I feel is that I should feel more, anything, but it’s as you say— nothing’s different. I might as well have shot a pheasant for dinner, but it’s even less satisfying than that. This is of no use to me.”
Sebastian’s tone was gentle. “Numbness itself is a reaction, my lord. You were in quite a state earlier.”
“And?” snapped Ciel. Annoyance flooded every bit of his hollowed heart. He latched onto it gratefully, uncaring if Sebastian could read his reaction like a book. “Get these off my lawn. They’re as unsightly as you say.”
He spun on his heel, striding towards the manor. If he strained, he could barely hear Sebastian’s typical, “Yes, my lord.”
Ciel waited until he was inside the foyer to take a few deep breaths, eyes closing for a moment.
He’d killed someone.
He was eleven.
He’d killed before— but only with the shadow which spread out from his feet, his back to the light, the mass of darkness cast by him much larger than his frail form.
It was fitting that he cast this shadow. It only mirrored its master.
Ciel ascended the stairs, leaving some final shard of innocence behind him. He reloaded his pistol on his way to his bedroom, unsurprised to open the door and find Sebastian already there.
“I’m keeping this under my pillow,” he stated. Ciel stuck it under his pillowcase before turning around and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Don’t use it as an excuse to slack off.”
Sebastian knelt, already pulling Ciel’s boots off. “I would never, my lord.”
Sebastian seemed pleased with Ciel’s choice, but it hardly seemed a choice at all to embrace what he’d already done.
Was his soul sinking further into despair? Was that why his demon was so satisfied? If so, shouldn’t he feel worse? All he sensed within himself was the same resolve which had guided the first bullet home. All he had to do was not lose his head next time.
Just like target practice.
“I’m not a bad shot,” mused Ciel. His shoes and socks were off. “When it mattered, I could do it.”
“And in low lighting too. If I may take a small amount of credit, I’m impressed with your progress.” Sebastian helped him into a nightshirt. “Would you like some herbal tea tonight to calm your nerves?”
“No.” Ciel smiled. The effect was unnerving. “I’m going to sleep better than I have in a long time.”
Sebastian didn’t often react to him anymore, but Ciel caught the momentary surprise flash across his face before he bowed. “Alright then, young master.”
Ciel laid back on the bed with a sigh.
It was fine if there was something wrong with him.
It was the only reason he was alive.