Falling Down - Ciel

by taitofan

Rated PG for implied shounen ai and shota

Disclaimer: Kuroshitsuji is not mine, considering if it were, Drocell would be a main character and Grell would get all of his wishes to come true. I'm sure many of you are glad it's not mine.

Author's notes: My first Kuroshitsuji fic, and it's a couple with a practically nonexistent fanbase. Ah well. Technically, if shota squicks you out—you must be brave to be in this fandom if it does—you can take it as purely platonic…in this chapter at least. Chapter two will be the same events from Drocell's point of view, and that will be harder to ignore most likely. I'm not sure if there will be more after that or if I'll just write something else after. Anyway, I took Ciel's younger personality from flashbacks, so hopefully everyone is in character. The small part of dialogue lifted from the show might seem off to you if you watch different subs that I do, but I looked at the other major one quickly and they seem to be rather similar, so I don't think the few lines should confuse anyone. Also, please do let me know what you think and how I've done!

Flames do nothing but make me laugh, although I'll listen to any CC you have. Please read, review, and enjoy! Finished 04-13-09


Ciel Phantomhive walked down the streets of London, his small hand firmly within his mother's grasp. He liked going outside the mansion with her and being able to see the world in a way only an eight-year-old could. Everything that seemed to dull to her and other adults was simply amazing to his young eyes. From the brightly dressed people to the goods displayed in the store windows, he took in it all.

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down…" The cheerful singing hit Ciel's ears even before the man came into his sight. His mother didn't even seem to notice the music, but he certainly did. His aunt and mother had often sung that song to him and his cousin Elizabeth as they played, and he'd always found it to be a fun. The fact that someone else knew the song he loved so much excited him. He wanted to know who was singing!

The wait wasn't long; soon, a man dressed in blue and black came into view. Certain things about him caught Ciel's attention, things he didn't often see—kohl around his uniquely shaded purple eyes, a small tattoo on his cheek, a feathered top hat upon his bright red hair, and a barrel organ in his gloved hands as he sang along to its tune. At his boot-clad feet, a plainer hat sat, awaiting coins from entertained children. Ciel had seen street performers before of course, but none that had ever seemed quite so interesting, and certainly none singing his favorite song. He tugged at his mother's hand, giving her a hopefully look as she glanced down at him.

Rachel knew what Ciel wanted even before he had to say a word, and with a smile, she reached into her purse and pulled out a few coins, handing them to her son and gesturing for him to go to the performer. Ciel smiled brilliantly up at her in thanks before letting go of her hand and running over.

"…my fair lady." The verse ended just as Ciel reached the man, the smile never leaving his face as he dropped the coins into the hat. Rather than launch into the next verse, the man gave the boy his own pleasant smile, cocking his head to the side. "Hello. What might your name be?" The soft voice was unlike anything Ciel had ever heard from a man. It was…pretty sounding. Just like his singing.

"I'm Ciel! What's your name?" The man looked over to where Ciel's mother was waiting patiently, assuming that she was where the coins had come from. A quick glance down to his feet confirmed that it wasn't merely a few pence he'd received.

"If your name is Ciel, I reason you must be Earl Phantomhive's son. It is a pleasure to meet you." He stuck out the hand he'd previously been using to turn the crank on his organ, which Ciel shook immediately, remembering the lessons in etiquette he'd been taught. He wasn't surprised the man knew he was a Phantomhive, what with his father being so well known. "My name is Drocell Cains. Did you like my song?" Ciel nodded, feeling a tingle in his hand as Drocell's larger one griped his. It was over all too soon though, and the warm hand returned to its previous place on the organ crank.

"That's my favorite song! Me and Lizzie sing it with Mama and Auntie Anne when we play. Is it your favorite song too?" Drocell chuckled softly at the boy's enthusiasm, his smile growing ever so slightly. He tapped an elegant finger to his chin in mock thought.

"Well, I love performing it, therefore I think it must be so. I reason it is an honor to share something of such importance with the future earl… I do hope you remember the joy music brought you once you take your father's place." Ciel couldn't fathom ever taking his father's place, though he'd been told many times that's why he had to sit through boring lessons on manners and business, but he nodded nonetheless. How could he ever forget the song that always caused him so much happiness?

Ciel opened his mouth to reply, but his mother's voice met his ears, regretfully informing him that they had to leave to meet with his father. He didn't want to leave; he liked Drocell. He couldn't disobey his mother though…

"Goodb—" His words were cut off as that lithe hand was once again holding his own. Drocell leaned down enough to press a chaste kiss to the back of it, leaving Ciel's blue eyes wide and his cheeks painted a soft pink. The man let their hands drop, his warm smile never once leaving his face.

"Goodbye Ciel Phantomhive. I do hope we meet again."

Ciel wasn't sure why his face felt so warm, and he didn't figure it out even after his hand—the one Drocell just kissed…why did he do that?—was back in his mother's and they were far out of sight from the enigmatic street performer. Rachel had witnessed the scene and noticed her son's wistful mood right away. She did her best not to giggle at the cute, almost pensive, look on his face.

"Ciel… Did you have fun talking with that man? Was he nice?" The thoughtful look left Ciel's visage, replaced by a bright smile at the questions. Oh, to be young and carefree…

"Oh mama! He was very nice, and we have the same favorite song! And his voice is so pretty! Do you think I'll see him next time we're out?"

"Perhaps," Rachel replied, squeezing her son's hand softly. "Perhaps…"

For the next two years, every time Ciel walked with his mother, he listened carefully for one voice; he looked closely through the crowds for bright red hair. And though he never did see the man again, even as his tenth birthday quickly approached, he still held hope that they would indeed meet again.

He wanted to hear that pretty voice sing London Bridge is Falling Down for him again.


It had been three years to the day since he had last held his mother's hand and listened for that voice. He'd hoped that familiar singing he'd heard with Grell that night was just his imagination, but no, he couldn't be so lucky… These weren't the circumstances he'd wanted to hear it under.

'Ciel Phantomhive. You are incredibly beautiful. I will have to make you into a doll that befits such beauty.'

The words kept ringing through Ciel's mind as he lay in bed that night. To think that after all these years he'd finally see him, finally gotten his wish to hear him sing that song for him again, only to lose him again, right before his eyes… That crest…whoever had reanimated Drocell's soul into that doll, that perfect replica of his body five years ago with the same voice he'd never forgotten, had something to do with the death of his parents too, he was sure of it. He was, much to his dismay, having a hard time concentrating much on that though…

'You are incredibly beautiful.'

He wondered how much longer after their meeting Drocell had lived. There hadn't been time to ask Grell, and he wasn't sure he wanted Sebastian knowing any more about his past than he had to. It certainly couldn't have been long in any case. Had he been sick? Was he murdered? Had he even remembered that they'd once met? Had…had Drocell thought he was beautiful even back then? What might have happened if they'd been able to meet again before that night, even if just one more time…?

He didn't know any of the answers, and though he knew it would be easy enough to track down death records that could be of help, he had already decided against it. It didn't really matter in the end; Drocell was dead, and something once lost will never return…

All he knew was that he never wanted to hear London Bridge is Falling Down ever again.