Immortal - Chapter One

Immortal

Chapter One

Regret.

There are not many emotions that demons do not often feel. We have the same emotional range as humans, perhaps greater in many instances. But we do not throw ourselves into them at the slightest inclination. If we so wish, we may choose to avoid them, to take ourselves out of the path that would lead us to them in the first place. Humans do not possess that level of restraint. They are foolhardy creatures that live in the moment and delight in the pain it brings them once it has ended.

Of all those emotions that exist, regret is something I have never fully experienced. Avoiding such inconveniences is a simple matter, one that utilizes the most basic of intelligence. We do not allow ourselves to get attached. We do not get overly involved. Much as a human would never eat their dog, we know to keep our distance.

In all my many years, I can count the number of such mistakes on the fingers of a single hand. The only truly remarkable part about that fact is that two of these instances have occurred within the last century and a half. And the thing I regret most is the decision I made to leave the service of Ciel Phantomhive.

~*~

Shortly before his fifteenth birthday, my former young master achieved his goal. The last of the men who had tortured him, burned his home to ashes, and destroyed his family had been found at a country estate in Leicestershire. I tore the head off the last of them with my own two hands.

With that single action, our contract had reached its conclusion. He had realized everything he had asked of me when first I was summoned. I had played the part of the dutiful butler, following the three conditions he had laid out so clearly. After more than four years of waiting, the time had come to indulge in the meal I had so patiently prepared. His soul, so perfectly flawed and tempting, was to be my reward for faithful service and unshakable devotion to him.

And yet, as I knelt before him and saw the resignation in his eyes as he stared back at me, I came to a startling realization. I had no desire to bring about the end of his existence. I could not bring myself to devour his soul.

I had failed to keep myself from those very emotions I had so easily avoided before. I had failed to keep my distance from him. Somewhere along the way, I had come to care very deeply for my young master. There would be no exaggeration in saying that I loved him, perhaps more even than I loved the game that we had played over these past years. This was not a new realization, but the effect it had on me at the time was startling.

From the moment a bargain is struck, the future is clearly defined. A demon will abide by the terms of the contract, even unto the most tedious of details. But when the terms have been met and both sides have satisfied their demands, payment must be made. I had known from the moment he first gave me my name that I would take his soul. That is the final part of all contracts with those such as myself.

Never before have I gone against the terms of a contract or simply walked away. Those words are incredibly deceptive, making it sound as though such a thing is easy to do. They do not carry the weight that comes with going against one's very nature or the consequences thereof. But in that moment, I had no other choice to make. His existence meant more to me than my own selfish ideals.

With that knowledge, my path was clear. Though I would not take his soul, I also could not remain in his service. His life, so tainted by the darkness around him, would only be further corrupted by my presence. But I would not leave him unprotected. In that aspect, no forethought was needed. When I had gone, the other servants would watch over him.

A letter was drafted to Tanaka containing some flimsy excuse for my departure. I no longer remember the exact words I chose to say why I had left my charge. Within the paragraphs, I also included the directions I felt would be needed, guidance for the household staff that I needed to provide even if it might not be heeded. Though I could not watch over him, my young master would be safe. He would be alive.