Chapter Text
Recap:
It’s Nina Hopkins.
I gasp, pressing my hands to the glass, leaning forward until my nose nearly touches the carriage window.
“Haute couture clothing is sensitive and delicate, unlike you two!” Nina yells at them, her posture sharp and commanding, hands gesturing like twin blades. Her two employees stand behind her, shoulders squared, looking every bit as menacing as background models can get. “This is why I have such a disdain for men!”
I glance at the two boys seated beside me, feeling a smirk tug at my lips.
“See? She’s right about more than just fashion.” I laugh softly, the irony not lost on me. My pulse quickens; I can practically feel the gears in my mind turning, connecting dots faster than my words can.
Ciel and Sebastian stare at me, wide-eyed, following my gaze. Then it happens—the spark of understanding ignites in all three of us.
We may have just found our way into the Sphere Music Hall.
0o0o0o0o
We park the carriage outside the Sphere Music Hall Nina disappeared into with her employees. We wait patiently for her return—or rather, they wait patiently. I’m stuck in a stuffy carriage with two brickheads. One obsessed with revenge. The other a literal black hole.
I sigh dramatically and prop my feet on the opposite cushion, toeing off my heels with a satisfied groan.
Ciel eyes me like I’ve committed a crime.
“I don’t want to smell your reeking feet! Put your shoes back on at least!” he howls, recoiling.
My mouth drops.
“My feet don’t stink!”
Before I can stop myself, I grab one and shove it toward Sebastian’s face. “You’re the one with the dog nose. Do they stink?” I ask, mortified but committed. They shouldn’t. I bathed just this morning!
He seizes my ankle, pushing my foot away with visible restraint.
“It does not stink,” he says tightly—then mutters under his breath, “Much…”
I shoot upright, glaring daggers.
“What was that!?” I shriek.
“Shut it!” Ciel snaps. I bristle like a provoked cat at his tone. “Don’t provoke her! She’ll just cause more fuss.”
Sebastian sweatdrops, side-eyeing me.
“You are right, my lord. Apologies.”
I gape at Ciel, offended beyond reason.
“What’d you say, you little shit!” I lunge, tackling him in his seat. My arm hooks around his neck in a headlock as I deliver a knuckle sandwich.
“Wah! Let me go, you brutish woman! Let go!” he sputters, flailing like a startled duck.
Sebastian’s irritation practically radiates through the air. His composure cracks just enough for danger to hum beneath his fake smile as he peels us apart by the shoulders.
“Enough. Stop behaving like children.” he says evenly—but it sounds more like a threat.
“He’s the child!” I point at my brother, but Sebastian has already pulled me back beside him—closer than before.
“Yet, he is the mature sibling.” he mocks.
I open my mouth to retaliate—but before I can, Nina’s cheery voice cuts through the chaos. “Thank you very much! We look forward to your continued patronage with Hopkins Tailor Shop!”
I glue myself to the window, spotting her leaving the hall with her employees. Any lingering anger melts away. Sebastian raps the roof of the carriage to signal our driver, and the wheels lurch into motion.
Then—without warning—he tugs me back from the window and practically tosses me into his lap. My body goes warm from the contact.
Must he hold me? Like a baby?
Ciel pulls down the window, the curtains fluttering with the wind. “Your luggage appears quite heavy,” he says smoothly. “May I offer you a ride, miss?”
Ah, trying to be mysterious again. Classic Ciel.
“I am quite fine, thank you very much.” Nina replies, polite but disinterested.
Ciel pulls back the curtain, smirking. “Oh, come now. You know I handle rejection poorly. Come ride with us, Nina.”
I wriggle out of Sebastian’s grip and dash to the other window.
“Hi, Nina!” I grin.
She gasps in delight, blushing.
“Oh my! It’s the Earl and the Lady!”
“Ssh!” Ciel hisses, still pretending he’s incognito.
After a brief exchange, Nina dismisses her employees and climbs aboard. She sits beside me, smelling strongly of lilies—enough to make me almost sneeze. Sebastian moves beside Ciel instead.
The coach rattles forward again.
“What are you doing outside the Sphere Music Hall?” I ask. “Making their outfits?”
“Yes, that is correct!” Nina declares proudly. “All of the costumes and outfits donned at the popular and trendy Sphere Music Hall are made by yours truly at Hopkins Tailor Shop!”
“Wah!” I beam. “That’s amazing! That’s got to help with sales!”
She nods enthusiastically.
“Just between you and me, I’m not particularly fond of making clothing for boys older than fifteen, but I was so moved by the hall’s energy that I decided to accept their request. All of the songs and clothing for the Starlight Four are created by Mr. Bravat!”
My eyes widen.
“Even the clothing?” Sebastian asks, just as surprised.
“Yes!” Nina nods. “He always gives feedback on the fittings and such.” Then she glares pointedly at Sebastian. “Unlike a certain stubborn person who shall remain nameless, Mr. Bravat provides an endless flow of bold and novel ideas.”
Sebastian’s smile twitches. I laugh out loud.
“Oh, Nina, men don’t know fashion unless it hits them in the face,” I tease. “Especially when they’re old.”
“Ohoho! Lady Rina, you and I share too many common thoughts!” Nina laughs, pulling me against her. Then she sobers, catching the thread of Ciel’s presence. “However, if the Earl himself has taken time out of his schedule to ask me about him, there must be something important about this Mr. Bravat.”
“Exactly,” Ciel says with a smirk. “That saves me time. As expected of the tailor shop employed by the Queen’s Watchdog for generations.”
Nina preens, glowing under the praise. “To receive such words is an honor! That said, my knowledge is limited to the body measurements of Mr. Bravat and the Starlight Four—and the names of the Great Stars, I suppose. Funny thing, though: I’m forbidden from taking the latter’s measurements.”
We all look at her in surprise.
“So, you were allowed to directly take the measurements of the Starlight Four?” Sebastian asks.
“Correct,” Nina says, “But my insistence on measuring the other individuals always falls on deaf ears.”
Ciel’s eyes widen. “Ho-Hold on a second! Do you mean to say that ‘the persons that hold the names of the great stars’ are not the same people as the Starlight Four?!”
Nina blinks. “What are you talking about? The ones who hold the names of the Great Stars are much higher in rank than the Starlight Four. I am designing clothing for everyone, including the Starlight Four and the other individuals. I was especially fond of the Greek gowns made for the guests! The loose-fitting silhouette design combined with the delicate texture of the material cloth created a relaxed yet sexy style! It’s also a wardrobe that is very unisex friendly…able to be worn whether you are old or young, man or woman! With this, a new—”
“Ni-Nina!” Ciel interrupts before she spirals into couture mania.
She snaps out of cloud nine.
“I’d appreciate it if you could elaborate on the people who hold the names of the Stars.” Ciel finishes.
“Hm? Oh. Well…I’m not entirely sure myself, but…” Nina thinks hard. “Mr. Bravat said that they are the physical manifestations of the Four Guardian Stars, or something along those lines. Master Sirius, Master Canopus, Master Vega, and Master Polaris. There are four people who are called by those names.”
I cross my arms, chewing on the info. Something about this blood business is off.
“And where are those people right now?” Sebastian asks.
“That’s what I’d like to know!” Nina exclaims. “During their fittings, Mr. Bravat would take their clothing into the room just past the doors decorated with all those constellations, all the while forbidding me from entering!”
“That’s the same place where they drew my blood…” Ciel muses. “Which probably means each Star Representative is behind their respective door.”
“Oh, Earl, did you not know?” Nina says, surprised. “There are four doors, but they all lead to the same room.”
“Huh?” I say.
Ciel deflates. “Then what was the point of being so melodramatic…”
“The dramatic, tense tone of their plays are an essential part of their religion. That explains why the limited-access events are run on separate days of the week.” Sebastian explains flatly.
I rub my temple. A small ache blossoms there. “I wonder if our theories still connect…”
“Nina,” Ciel leans forward. “When is your next scheduled visit to the music hall?”
“Today, we matched the outfits with the new song and completed the preliminary sewing,” Nina answers. “So, I would expect to deliver the final product in one week.”
“Please allow Sebastian to accompany you,” Ciel says, sitting forward. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
I freeze. Oh, no. He has no idea how much Nina despises him.
“Of course,” Nina starts sweetly—then snaps, “NOT. IN. YOUR. DREAMS!”
I nearly flinch at the force of it. Especially at the mean sneer she tosses his way.
“My tailor shop is at the forefront of cutting-edge London fashion!” she rages. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a staff member who wears such archaic, out-dated apparel on my team! It would do irreparable harm to our brand and reputation!”
I bite down a laugh so hard my shoulders shake. I can feel Sebastian’s death glare burning holes in me.
I cough into my hand, hiding my twitching lips.
“Regardless of generation, this is a formal, timeless uniform…” he defends through clenched teeth and a clipped tone.
Ciel just sweatdrops.
“I don’t want to hear it!” Nina snaps. “If you wish to accompany me, then you will have to change into a more acceptable attire!”
I raise an eyebrow, imagining Sebastian in anything other than black. The memory of him in color—pink bonnet specifically—makes me shudder. Somehow, that image is burned into my mind.
Ciel grins, clearly entertained. “All right. Then you are free to go ahead and choose his clothing for him.”
“Young master?!” Sebastian blurts, scandalized.
I beam at Nina. “I’m excited! He could use a dash of color!”
Nina clasps my hands with a dazzling grin.
“I’d much rather dress you, my darling! Though, I am reluctant, since it is a request from the Earl, I shall accept the challenge! I shall remake you into a contemporary gentleman who shall be the envy of all!”
Her eyes glitter with mischief as she looks Sebastian up and down. I smirk beside her, feeling a rare thrill of victory curl through me.
“Now, you won’t be so ugly, Sebastian!” I chirp fakely, all sugar and venom. “In fact, you might look younger.”
He sends me a seething glare, eyes flashing like hot molten glass. His jaw locks tight, like he’s holding back something far too impolite for daylight.
But the glare doesn’t last—his false smile slithers into place a second later. “My lady, it seems you anticipate much and favor the thought of me presented for you. How interesting.”
It’s my turn to glare, heat climbing my cheeks.
He’s not wrong.
He didn’t have to say it out loud though.
The look in his eyes—smug, gleaming—tells me he knows he’s won this little spat.
0o0o0o0o
As we sit inside Nina’s shop, I keep glancing back at the curtain Sebastian is changing behind. The fabric sways every so often, brushing the floor like a whisper. I hear the faint rustle of fabric—buttons, sleeves, shifting cloth—and curse my curiosity.
It’s…unfortunately, very tempting to take a peek.
My hands fly up, smacking my reddening cheeks as scandalous thoughts bloom uninvited.
You’re hopeless, Rina.
But really—every girl’s a little curious, right?
Well. Maybe not about a demon.
I groan quietly in self-embarrassment. Ciel shoots me a questioning look.
Pull it together, I hiss inwardly. You’re not a lovesick fool.
Yet, something stirs anyway. A low, warm curiosity curling through my gut.
The curtain parts sharply, brushing my knees as Sebastian steps out. My eyes roam from the polished shoes to the slicked-down hair before I can stop them. The outfit hits me all at once.
Good Lord.
“The in-vogue duck canvas suit matched with a boater hat! Pale colors may be all the rage this year…but they just absolutely clash with you for some reason!” Nina declares, unimpressed.
They really don’t mix well with him.
I hold up five fingers. “I give it a five out of ten. She’s right, they do clash. Next!”
His eyes flicker—irritation and resignation at war—but he exhales through his nose and retreats without protest.
“Mhm! Rina knows her colors as well! Maybe a tighter, double-breasted suit would be more appropriate,” Nina hums, snapping her fingers. “Augusta! Bring the striped one—on the double!”
Her assistant vanishes and returns in seconds with the requested suit. Sebastian accepts it with visible reluctance and vanishes behind the curtain again.
Would stripes suit him? It’s darker—muted. He always eats up the darkness, wears it like a second skin.
Minutes later, he steps out again. And—damn it—I almost blush. Almost. My heart betrays me before my face can.
“The striped suit jacket when complimented with the saddle shoes gives you a very modern flair.” Nina says, all business.
“Seven out of ten.” I declare, approving despite myself.
The suit fits him well. Too well. Too tight.
I bite my tongue. I am absolutely going to Hell.
Nina still doesn’t look satisfied. She cycles through outfit after outfit—Oxford professor, sack coats, and then—
Oh no.
IS THAT AN ELVIS OUTFIT?!
I clutch my head, scandalized. Who even designed that monstrosity?!
Sebastian catches sight of it and bolts back into the dressing room like his tailcoat’s on fire. I snort. Across from me, Ciel trembles with the effort of holding in laughter.
This day has officially gone off the rails.
When Sebastian finally reemerges, he’s wearing a white striped button-up with braces and pants that ride high over his hips. A bowtie. Hair slicked back to reveal every sharp angle of his face. Rare opportunity to show off his good looks.
My heart skips. He really can be—
His gaze flicks toward me, eyebrow raised.
I look away so fast I could give myself whiplash.
Nina circles him like a hawk. “I think for statuesque builds such as yourself, the cummerband and braces are immaculate and unrivaled.”
Sebastian poses stiffly, waiting for her verdict.
“The model is terrible, so none of them look quite right!” Nina snaps suddenly. “Next is this one!”
I snort. His eye twitches before he spins back into the curtain again.
“Yes, yes…” he says, dryly.
He’s two seconds from losing his mind—I can feel it.
Ciel’s practically vibrating with glee. Nina stomps off, muttering to herself about impossible models.
“We really don’t have to go to such measures,” Sebastian calls from behind the curtain, voice tight. “You know very well I can simply infiltrate them on my own.”
“Oh?” I smirk. “I thought you were having fun peacocking us. Strange if not, since you usually love to show off.”
The mark on my neck burns faintly—my warning sign.
Yeah, he didn’t like that.
“It’s better to cover our bases,” Ciel says, smirking like the devil himself. “With Nina as a buffer, we can definitely stave off Bravat.”
“I hear your words, but I’m getting the impression you’re really enjoying putting me through this.” Sebastian mutters, disdain evident.
“We are!” I chirp, far too cheerfully.
My curiosity betrays me again—I peek through the small gap in the curtain. My breath catches. His bare back, pale and sculpted, flexes as he buttons his shirt.
Oh no.
I whip around so fast I almost fall out of the chair. My face feels like it’s boiling. I stand up stiffly and walk away, finding I don’t trust my own eyes anymore.
Ciel glances at me oddly. “Heh. How does it feel…being used as someone’s dress-up doll until you go insane?”
“Oh, dear me…” Sebastian sighs from behind the curtain, sounding unamused.
My heart cartwheels. I need distance—now.
I drift toward the far end of the room, pretending to inspect fabrics. I said I’d start being honest with my emotions, but this? This is dangerous. Letting that desire bleed through—it’s like handling poison. Addictive, fatal, and sweet all at once.
Nina returns empty-handed, muttering in defeat. “Truly, I have nothing to fit a man such as…him.” The last word drips with venom. “I have something in mind I can commission to fit his status next to me though.”
Sebastian steps out again, blessedly back in his butler uniform. My pulse evens.
Then, out of nowhere, I’m grabbed from behind—two arms clutching my shoulders tight, perfume flooding my senses.
“I have a much better model than any man can give me right here anyways.” Nina purrs into my ear, chin on my shoulder.
“Nina!” I yelp, mortified. Her hands wander upward—too high—while she giggles. This perverted woman! I flush in horror as it all happens so fast.
“Miss Hopkins—please leave my lady alone.”
Sebastian’s at my side in an instant, pulling me from her arms. I saddle into his side as he holds my wrist. His grin razor sharp.
Nina hisses, finger stabbing toward him. “You dare separate me from my favorite maiden?! Give her back to me!”
His eyes darken, voice dropping low. “She is not yours.”
I glance up at him then, my heart fluttering despite knowing it shouldn’t. Not for this demon, anyway. But I’ve accepted I’m far too gone to resist anymore. It’s too hard. No matter how much he treats me like shit.
I’ll always fight back, of course. But deep down, I’m tired of fighting it—tired of fighting him.
“You’re right,” I say out loud. His eyes meet mine in surprise. I slip my hand from his grip. “I’m my own person. I own myself.”
The words feel like a small revolution leaving my lips. I want to start being the person I think I am—not the younger version, not the shattered one. They’re both me, yes, but I’m realizing the pain that built those versions doesn’t have to define what I become next.
I step toward Nina with a sincere smile. “Thank you for helping us today, Nina.”
She blinks before blushing, her lips curling into a wide grin.
“Anything for the Phantomhives, my best clients!” she declares, curtseying dramatically. Her eyes sparkle with mischief even as her tone carries sincerity. Then she gasps, clapping her hands together. “I have some new fashion designs you inspired me on! I made mock models already—please try them on for me while you’re here, my dear!”
My interest sparks immediately, and I glance toward Ciel. He crosses his arms, debating, his face drawn with that classic “responsible little lord” look.
“As long as it doesn’t take too long…” he concedes with a sigh.
I beam, my heart lightening. “Thanks, brother!” I chirp, heading for the dressing room. “Send ’em in, Nina!”
Sebastian’s gaze burns into my back as I disappear behind the curtain and pull it closed. His stare feels like a physical thing—smoldering, possessive, unreadable.
The curtain opens abruptly, and bundles of clothing are shoved into my arms. Fabric spills everywhere—soft, textured, shimmering under the light. It’s not heavy; I can carry anything now. But the colors, the variety—my senses practically short-circuit.
I set them down on the bench behind me, sifting through them. So many pieces I would never wear. My groan echoes softly. The first thing I grab looks like a robe—a long, silky thing that cascades nearly to the floor.
It’s dark pink—almost fuchsia—with black feathers edging the cuffs, hem, and neckline. My jaw drops. She actually made it?
I untie the robe and find the matching short slip beneath. My face flames red. I remember showing Nina a rough sketch of it still of something like this as a joke.
And now here it is. Real. Tangible.
I peel the curtain open an inch and peek out. “Nina! I can’t wear that in front of everyone!” My voice comes out in a mortified shout. “It’s not proper!”
She smirks, glinting behind her glasses. “You’re going to put my hard work to waste?” she pouts. “That’s such a shame…”
I freeze—she’s guilt-tripping me. This woman has no moral compass.
I glare, but she looks smug as ever. “Ciel, Sebastian,” I call out tightly, “close your eyes. This is not meant for men or children.”
Ciel immediately pales. Sebastian narrows his eyes and shifts, clearly trying to peer in despite my warning. I clutch the curtain tighter, mortified.
“Oh come now, it’s only fabric!” Nina teases. “Are you so shy? It may not be meant for children, but men, on the other hand…”
I nearly scream at the implication. I thought she hated him!
Sebastian’s interest flickers. I feel it like a pulse through the air.
I slam the curtain shut. “Damnit,” I hiss, yanking off my outer layers in a rush. Heat blooms down my neck as I stare at my reflection—bare, flustered, and furious.
Still, I can’t help noticing…the slip is soft. Luxurious even. I slide it over my skin, followed by the robe. Elegant, despite its purpose. I sigh.
Why am I getting put into this situation?!
I poke my head out of the curtain. “Close your eyes—and if I catch you peeking, I’ll kill you.”
Ciel immediately obeys, foot tapping impatiently. Sebastian stares at me flatly until I raise my brows. He rolls his eyes—then finally closes them.
I step out slowly. Nina gasps. “Oh là là! Comme c’est beau!”
My blush deepens instantly. Even if only Nina’s looking, I feel half-naked.
Then a shiver runs down my spine—hot, electric. I glance toward the source and freeze. Sebastian’s eyes are open, wide and glowing red. His pupils are sharp, feline.
My breath catches.
Something dark and wordless thrums between us. His gaze drags down my body, deliberate and burning. I brush my hair behind my ear instinctively, trying to compose myself, but it only draws his focus to my throat.
The room feels smaller, denser.
He steps forward abruptly, his back stiff and tall as he positions himself in front of me—shielding me. His glare fixes on Nina, the temperature dropping several degrees.
“This is highly inappropriate, Ms. Hopkins.” Sebastian says, voice low and dangerous.
Nina blows a raspberry, pretending innocence. “I don’t know what you mean, butler. I simply made what I was shown.”
“You said we couldn’t look!” Ciel shouts behind me, still clenching his eyes shut.
“I would encourage you not to, young master.” Sebastian replies dryly.
I peer around his shoulder, still flustered. “I never said to make it! It was just for fun!”
Sebastian shifts again, protective, blocking me from Nina’s view entirely. Why is he protecting me?
“But it looks good, no?” Nina pouts. “Why is everyone so upset?”
I scoff, spinning on my heel and storming back into the dressing room. “I shouldn’t have even put the stupid thing on!”
My heart hammers as I rip the garments off, heat prickling across my skin. How embarrassing! At least Ciel didn’t see. The thought alone makes me want to sink into the floor.
I pick up the next outfit with caution, holding it like it might bite me. To my relief—it’s something normal. Familiar, even.
An ivory turtleneck and a long maroon skirt trimmed with lace. Autumnal. Simple. Nostalgic.
My chest tightens. It reminds me of home. Of another lifetime, visiting my mother’s family out west.
I smile faintly as I slip on the undergarments Nina made, then the soft turtleneck and skirt. The fabric clings comfortably, a second skin. I pull my hair free, adjust the collar, and glance at the mirror. I look…peaceful. Younger even.
“Rina?” Ciel calls, impatient. “Are you done in there yet?”
“Yep!” I chirp, drawing the curtain open.
Nina gasps again. “You look positively darling!”
I shift awkwardly, smoothing the skirt. “You think so?”
Ciel tilts his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You could say it reminds me of where I come from.” I tell him softly.
He studies me, then smiles faintly. “I see.”
For a heartbeat, I see Vincent instead—smiling in this very shop. “It looks nice on you.” His voice overlaps with Fenian’s, memory bleeding into the present. My chest tightens painfully.
Then blackness cuts through the haze. Sebastian’s suddenly there, close enough that his presence burns through the air between us.
“I find this apparel…not unwelcome on you.” he says, his tone deceptively calm. A distraction.
Still, my breath catches.
Nina hums approvingly. “Yes, for once I am inclined to agree with the prudish butler.”
Sebastian’s eyebrow twitches, his smile sharp as glass. “My, I simply have a taste for the older fashion. You cannot blame me, Ms. Hopkins?”
Nina laughs, rich and teasing. “We’ll be changing that soon.”
I sweatdrop as I watch the two interact.
Honestly, I can only imagine how they’ll manage when Ciel and I aren’t there to stop them from mauling each other. Hopefully, the mission doesn’t implode without our interference.
0o0o0o0o
One week later…
The late afternoon sun spills over us, painting everything in soft gold. The light makes Ciel’s blue hair stand out sharply against the world—but Sebastian, as usual, remains untouched by it.
Having shed his butler role for the time being, the so-called “gentleman” stands beside us, neat in his pinstripes. It’s strange seeing him shift appearances so often lately. Clothing really does define a person—as much as hairstyle or posture. Gone is the overgrown fringe, replaced with a neat swoop and a shadowing hat that cloaks half his face.
Handsome, if he were a man. But we both know better.
“Bring back Elizabeth and investigate the Music Hall. That is an order.” Ciel’s voice cuts cleanly through the light, cold and commanding.
Sebastian bows, hand over heart. “Yes, my lord.”
I twist my fingers anxiously, my chest tightening as a part of me doesn’t want him to leave me behind.
I really have grown too attached.
He turns to go, but his eyes find mine before he does. The sun catches behind me, and for a moment, he hesitates. Moves slower than he should.
“Be safe and bring her home.” I blurt, before I can stop myself.
He pauses. A small nod. Then, in a blur of inhuman grace, he launches himself skyward—like a dark arrow disappearing into the blue. My heart plummets with him until I can’t feel the tether anymore. A distant subtle pull.
Ciel turns to head inside, but I catch his jacket.
He glances back, eyebrow raised.
“Let’s…” I swallow, forcing a smile through the lump in my throat. “Let’s hang out.”
“Hang out?” he echoes. “We do that daily.”
I roll my eyes. “When was the last time we ever had a brother-and-sister date? No mission, no work—just us.”
His cheeks flush at the word date. I can’t help but grin. He fidgets, eyes darting away like I’ve proposed something scandalous.
“Do we have to?” he mutters, clearly trying to resist.
I pout, lower lip trembling dramatically. “What? You don’t want to be with me?”
His single eye widens. Then, in a sudden flustered defense, he grabs my wrist.
“That’s not it! I—I mean…fine.”
I squeal and sweep him into a hug, lifting him like a ragdoll.
“I’m so glad you said yes!” I cheer.
“Rina! Unhand me this instant, you barbarian!” he shouts, red-faced and wriggling. “I will revoke this…this date if you don’t!”
I drop him immediately. “Nooo!” I whine, dragging him toward the front gate. “You said you’d come!”
He lets me pull him along until we’re outside, blending into the London crowd.
“What exactly do you have planned?” Ciel sighs, already regretting everything.
I loop my arm through his. He’s grown a little taller, I realize. Time’s slipping, faster than I’d like. He was just a boy—still is—but he won’t always be. The thought sinks heavily in my stomach.
“I heard there’s a new bakery everyone’s raving about,” I say brightly. “Let’s start there.”
He exhales the long-suffering sigh of a noble trapped in sibling affection, but still lets me lead. We must look like a cute pair—two Phantomhives at peace. If only people knew.
“You know,” I muse aloud, “do you think people look at us and see siblings?”
He arches an eyebrow. “What on Earth made you ask that?”
I shrug, leaning down so the height difference doesn’t feel so wide. “I don’t know. I’m technically Rina Howell-Phantomhive, not just Rina Phantomhive.”
He hums, thoughtful. “We don’t really look related.”
“You’re right. I don’t have gray-blue hair or those pretty blue eyes,” I tease. “Maybe I just dye mine brown so I don’t look like a Phantomhive.”
He rolls his eye but hides a smile. “You would be beautiful no matter the hair or eye color,” he says simply. “You’re a Phantomhive either way. They’ll have to deal with it.”
The words strike somewhere deep. My chest warms painfully. I close my eyes for a second to steady myself.
“I suppose—I am.” I whisper.
When I open them, the world feels softer. Vincent’s living memory hums quietly behind my ribs.
We walk in companionable silence until the scent of baked sugar and cocoa fills the air. The line at the bakery is absurdly long.
“It must be really good!” I say over the chatter.
“Is it better than Sebastian’s though?” Ciel asks, unimpressed already.
“Nothing is better than Sebastian’s chocolate cake.” I declare solemnly.
I’d get on my knees for it if he dangled it over me—he’d absolutely enjoy that. The memory of turning down his cake in Germany still haunts me.
Ciel smirks. “Yes, his cooking has improved since he first arrived.”
I nod, remembering how bad his tea was.
Nearly water-downed poison.
The line crawls forward. When we finally reach the counter, the rich smell of chocolate and yeast makes my mouth water. Ciel orders a chocolate croissant; I choose a profiterole, delicate and small. I pay, despite his objections.
“I’m the older one, I should be paying, mister.” I wag a finger.
We carry our plates outside, finding a small wrought-iron table in the sun.
“I wonder if it’s really that good…” I muse, examining the tiny puff. Sebastian’s were always better—but I bite anyway.
Sweet cream floods my mouth, smooth and airy. Okay, maybe almost Sebastian-level.
“It better be for how long we waited. Ridiculous,” Ciel grumbles between bites. “It’s not the worst I’ve had…but that demon is quite something in the kitchen. Out of everything he can do, cooking and killing seem to be his only highlights.”
I snort. “Sebastian’s too good at too many things. But if I’d lived as long as he has, I would be too.”
He tilts his head, then looks away. “He’s been off lately.”
The bite freezes halfway to my lips. I’ve noticed too. Of course I have.
“...How so?”
Ciel’s expression hardens, his single eye narrowing like he’s cutting straight through me.
“You should know,” he says quietly, each word sharp. “Don’t pretend you haven’t seen how he speaks to you, looks at you, interacts with you. You remain oblivious to half of it, I wager.”
I freeze, wide-eyed, the profiterole collapsing in my grip. The sounds of the street blur around us.
“I have,” I say hoarsely. “I called him out on it.”
Ciel’s surprise flickers, then steadies. “And?”
I twist the fabric of my dress nervously. “He didn’t like that. Denied it. Or rather—ignored it. Many times.”
Ciel’s hand tightens into a fist. “I told you not to get close.”
“I—” I swallow hard. “It’s not my fault. It just happened!”
“You chose to interact with him after you found out. This is your fault.” His voice trembles, sharp with emotion. “But it’s also mine…”
I still. His tone softens—not with forgiveness, but guilt.
“I’m not a very good brother, am I?” he murmurs. “I’m not a good person. I can’t fault you for seeking comfort elsewhere. But Rina, he’s dangerous. You know that. Of everyone, you shouldn’t be the one to grow comfortable with the thing that will kill you the second I’m gone. So why seek my death maker?”
Tears sting my eyes. “I don’t,” I whisper, reaching across the table to take his hand. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I swear by it. He…Ciel.” My voice breaks. “He doesn’t want my soul. Not anymore. And I don’t want to give it to him.”
He blinks, startled.
“You aren’t…trying to make a contract with him?” he asks, voice pitched high. “No—wait. Are you sure he doesn’t want your soul?”
Confusion floods through me.
I mean, he may have hinted at it in the past. But…deep down, I know that’s not what he actually wants. Especially recently.
“I don’t think so…” I say softly, my voice uncertain, almost fragile.
Ciel leans back in his seat, contemplative. His posture stiffens before he crosses his arms—his version of building walls.
“Then why does he look at you that way?”
“What way?” I ask, genuinely confused, my pulse picking up.
“Like a man who’s been deprived of his addiction. Like a demon who’s hungry for something he can’t have.” His tone is calm, but his single blue eye is unwavering, slicing through my defenses like a knife.
His hand tightens over mine.
“And you keep feeding him.”
The sound of ravens croaking above us drifts through the air, their wings slicing across the gray London sky. Their cries echo like an omen. It feels like his death is close—hand on the doorknob, waiting for the right moment to turn and take him.
“Feni—” I bite my tongue, remembering we’re in public. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. And if I’m going to be honest, it’s been taking a mental toll on me. I’m trying to…get better now.”
“I’ve noticed.” Ciel doesn’t hesitate, his sharpness softening just slightly. “I wanted to…” He pauses, glancing away as if the words cost him something to form. Then, suddenly, he jerks his hand from mine, retreating from the warmth he almost allowed himself to feel. “I—You deserve an apology. From me. I haven’t been there for you. And…I want to say I’m sorry.”
I blink, stunned. His voice quivers; the faintest redness rims his eye. His small body trembles as though he’s barely keeping himself together.
“Feni…” I murmur softly, the nickname slipping through like a prayer. His hard shell—the one that rarely cracks—has split, just for me.
He exhales shakily, composure breaking apart like glass.
“There’s so much happening…and I have this bad feeling,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine. Shadows creep over his expression. “Promise me you won’t leave me. Ever. Even after death.”
My throat tightens painfully. “How can I promise that?” I whisper. A tear spills down my cheek. “I don’t know how much longer I have either.”
He winces. Then he stands abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the pavement. The sound rips through the quiet like a blade. He moves to my side, trembling—not from cold, but from everything he can’t say aloud.
“I have a feeling, you’ll be okay.” His voice cracks, low and rough. His eye, the one not hidden beneath the patch, glistens. “I just…please, remember me.”
I rise too, looking down at him. For a brief, painful moment, I realize he might never grow taller than me. That I may never get to see him as anything but this—fragile and fierce all at once. The thought hurts worse than imagining his death. Because I’ve loved this boy from the moment he entered this cruel world.
“You don’t even need to ask such a thing.” My voice breaks as I pull him into a bone-crushing hug. “...I promise to work it out—whatever Sebastian’s thinking—I’ll sort it out. I love you, sport. And nothing will ever change that—not even the greedy demon we know, okay?”
Ciel goes limp against me, small and trembling. His hug is barely there, but his fingers curl tightly in the fabric at my back—holding on as though I’m the only thing keeping him anchored.
He’s trying. God, he’s trying.
He’s still just a boy, pretending to be a man.
But maybe that’s what we’re all doing—faking versions of the people we wish we were. That’s the real monster. Not Sebastian. Not the gods. Just the human ache of trying to become something whole when we’re already cracked down the middle.
And Fenian—my little brother—is faking it with all he has left.
I know what it’s like to survive on scraps of control. To keep living when everything around you is falling apart.
I’ll be damned if Sebastian takes him away before he’s had the chance to live as his real self, even for a moment. Germany was only a taste of that freedom.
He pulls away, rebuilding his wall brick by brick, and I let him. His armor is necessary.
Maybe we should have more family outings—before we run out of time to pretend we’re just that.