A Box Of Kittens

Chapter 37

(Song: Sakura Kiss from Ouran High School Host Club, suggested by @Normal_Fangirl5202 )

Sooo... Hi? Yeah, sorry for not updating for a while, I've been busy. Hopefully this chapter will make up for my absence? Doubt it, but I hope you enjoy the chapter regardless <3.

"Trancy, what on Earth are you doing?" Ciel asked incredulously. 

"Trying to catch my nose with my mouth," Alois said, as if it were obvious. He laid on his back and was snapping his jaws in the air, looking completely ridiculous. Ciel sighed, and shook his head. Their cage was getting cramped, what with the amount of kittens crammed into its contents. 

Where were Sebastian, Undertaker, Claude and (your name)?

~~

Led by Sebastian, the four of them emerged onto the desolate streets of East London, the air thick with smog. (your name) coughed, looking around curiously; not too far off, there was a little sign that read Dorset Street. Many of the buildings looked damp, completely unfit to house people in, and looked to have little to no ventilation. Across from them, they could make out through the smog a brothel filled to the brim with men and dollymops, toffers-- or, to put it simply, prostitutes.

There was a young girl- who looked no older than eight years old- standing on the edge of the pavement, holding a basket of flowers and water cress, asking if anyone would buy some. 

"Do you think they could be here?" (your name) asked, her nose wrinkled in disgust. 

"Claude and I can sense our masters somewhere nearby," Sebastian replied. "It is just the means of finding them." They set off down a dank alleyway, passing many homeless people and flower sellers. The brick walls were laden with mould, the glass panes in windows encrusted with grime and filth, and the drain pipes leaked dirty, grey water onto the cobblestone pavement. They passed an old man that laid on his side, unmoving. He was dressed in dirty rags. Suddenly, he lunged out, hand grabbing at the hem of (your name)'s dress.

"Please!" he rasped, clinging on to (your name)'s dress. "I need money! Please, just enough for a loaf of bread."

Claude kicked at the man, and he released at once, slinking back to the thin rag that was used as a blanket. "It it illegal to beg while the Queen is on the throne," Sebastian said harshly, glowering at the man. "I'd recommend that you cease at once."

"Are you alright, my dear?" Undertaker asked as soon as the beggar was out of sight and earshot.

"Yes, quite alright," (your name) said, a small small dancing on her lips.

A clatter on the roof above them, a flash of a white lab coat, and the swing of a death scythe. Sebastian pushed (your name) out of the way as they all stepped back, narrowly avoiding contact with the death scythe. The Reaper was a lean man with large, round glasses, and shaggy, dark green hair that stood up in different directions. Like the others of his kind, he had the phosphorescent chartreuse eyes of a Grim Reaper. He wore dark trousers and a white button-up shirt and loosened tie, over which he wore a white lab coat, and on his feet, he wore slippers. He wielded a simple-looking death scythe, the object showing no signs of modification whatsoever.

"Damn it," the Reaper muttered.

"I believe we have met before," Sebastian smirked, showing signs of familiarity with the man in front of them. "I don't believe I caught your name the last time we met."

"Othello, Forensics Division," the Reaper named Othello panted. "And I'm here for Undertaker," he pointed a finger to the grey-haired reaper in question. 

"Oh?" Undertaker asked. "Whatever for?"

"Don't play dumb," Othello said, brandishing his death scythe. "I need to take you in for your use of your death scythe, which should have been collected in when you retired, and your continued 'experiments' with life beyond death."

"Ooh!" Undertaker laughed. "Those things!"

"Why would someone from the Forensics Division be sent? Surely they need to send someone from the Management Division?" (your name) asked.

Othello turned to face (your name), slightly startled. "Well, yeah," he started. "But we're rather short-staffed at the moment. We've even had to bring Ludger and Sascha over from the German Reaper branch," he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I don't know why they sent me. I'm not that keen on fighting, and I'm only good at forensics."

"Yes, well, while that is all very interesting, I believe we must be going. We are in a hurry," Claude said coldly.

"Not so fast, demon," Othello said. He then gestured towards Undertaker. "I need to take in the deserter."

Sebastian sighed. "I'm afraid I cannot let you do that. You see, he is also a fugitive amongst the human world, and my master would have him arrested. Because of certain- events- we have refrained from arresting him until further notice."

"As much as don't want to fight, I don't want to have to fill out a mountain of paperwork," Othello raised his scythe once more and launched himself at Undertaker, moving with incredible agility. Undertaker stepped back with the safe swiftness, knocking off his hat in the process. He brushed the hair out of his eyes, clipping them back with a couple of hair pins. The scar that run down his face narrowly avoided cutting across his left eye, which glowed bright with ethereal beauty. His large, skeletal death scythe appeared in his hands, dwarfing Othello's measly weapon in comparison.

"Hihihihihih, I'll catch up with the three of you later," he laughed, dodging Othello's attacks effortlessly.

"My Lady, do excuse me for a moment," Sebastian said. He placed one hand behind (your name)'s knee, the other on her back, and hoisted her up in his arms bridal-style. With Claude running alongside Sebastian, they jumped across rooftops as easily as a fish can swim. (your name) shifted around in Sebastian's arms to look over his shoulder at Undertaker and Othello, who were locked in combat, Undertaker's long hair flying in wind.

So... how was that? Good? Bad? I wanted to not speed the story up too much, so I thought this would be a nice transition into where Ciel and the others are being kept. Sorry for my absence, I've been really, really busy and needed a break. Also, sorry for not replying back to everyone, there's so many comments I have to sort through and reply to.

Anyway, who's happy Othello's here?

Word count: 1087