Chapter 1

His Butler, Puzzled - A Shinobi, Displaced

To those in England, and all of the civilized world, Ciel Phantomhive was many things: Land owner and titled Earl; Head of the Phantomhive family; Sole survivor of his family's massacre; Betrothed to his cousin, Lady Elizabeth; The Queen's Guard dog; Owner of the Funtom Toy and Sweets Company. But the only title that the boy held that mattered at all to Sebastian Michaelis was that of owner of the contract that bound himself to be his butler until that fateful day when he would devour Ciel's soul. Until then, his focus was only on the thirteen year old's daily needs and orders. It was what his entire world consisted of, and it was all that he truly desired. Because, with each passing day, his young lord's soul became just that tiny bit more delectable to him. Indeed, this was one contract that he had no desire to rush to its conclusion. No, like a fine wine, he intended to allow his master to ripen with age, so that when he finally collected his meal, it would be unlike anything he had ever tasted before.

Sebastian grinned at the thought while he continued to perform his nightly duties of making sure that the Phantomhive Estate was in a state of perfection before the start of each new day. Every surface was dusted and polished until it gleamed in even the dimmest of rooms. The windows were washed and dried until they were so clean that one would question whether there was any glass there at all. The family silver was painstakingly polished until it sparkled with a light all its own. The linens covering the tables were crisp and immaculate, as befit everything within these walls. Fresh arrangements of flowers gathered from the Estate's own gardens were arranged to best accentuate whichever room they were placed in.. In short, everything was completed with his own high standards as the benchmark.

Content that all was as it should be inside the Manor, Sebastian moved outdoors to perform similar maintenance to the surrounding grounds, as he did every night while those in the house slept on. He paused on the veranda, which spread out from the back of the house to provide a lovely el fresco option for dining or entertaining, and he took a moment to survey the expansive gardens. The formal rose garden nearest the house would need the most work to keep everything up to his master's demanding expectations. But that was work which was better suited to the early morning, when the sun was fully upon the prized blooms. He glanced up at the full moon that was only just starting its decline toward the horizon. There were still far too many hours to go before he'd be able to concentrate on that particular task. Sebastian pulled out the ornate pocket watch that kept him ever mindful of the passing hours and he frowned as he ran his young lord's daily itinerary through his mind. It was to be a full day indeed, as the boy needed to fit in three separate visits from business men looking for financial backing amongst his already packed schedule of lessons and Funtom Company business. There would be little down-time for his master to catch his breath until well after sundown. Which meant, of course, that the young lord's tolerance for anything other than perfection would be nonexistent.

He sighed and settled the watch back into its pocket before he straightened his tail coat and tugged his white gloves to ensure a proper fit. First things first, he'd need to set off toward the lower gardens where the resident swans and ducks had the nasty habit of leaving their feathers and other unsightly droppings scattered about the water features and pathways. It simply would not do for such filth to be present at the location he had chosen for the young lord's afternoon tea with Lady Elizabeth. No, it would not do at all, considering that it was to be the only respite the boy would have in his busy day.

Sebastian had only made it down three of the steps leading to the manicured lawn when an explosion at the far reaches of the property shook the grounds and rattled the windows of the Manor. The sound of crystal breaking from within the dining room caused his eyes to narrow, knowing that now he'd have to add time into his already packed day to repair or replace anything which had been damaged by the unexpected blast. If Bardroy had caused this disturbance trying out another one of his methods for quick-cooking than he would definitely need to ask the master to reconsider keeping the man on as staff. Such explosive methods would never be worthy of using on even the most rustic of dishes that would be set before the young Earl.

"What in blue blazes was that!? Are we under attack again?"

He watched as the very human that he had been accusing wandered out onto the veranda, scratching at his scraggly blond hair in obvious confusion, and still dressed in his sleeping attire with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. Sebastian's attention returned to the far side of the property, where he could now hear the sound of numerous trees crashing to the ground. But before he could switch his blame from the Manor's cook to its resident strongman/gardener, Finnian wandered out just steps ahead of the sharpshooter turned maid, Mey-Rin.

"Gosh! What's all the ruckus about?"

Oblivious of Finnian's question, Mey-Rin pushed her way in between the two men, adjusting her thick-lensed glasses a bit farther up her nose before clasping her hands in front of her as she leaned forward.

"Oh dear! That sounded like something very big indeed! Oh, yes it did!"

Sebastian frowned as the last of his potential suspects for the disturbance stood in front of him. But if it was none of the staff, then just what had happened?

"Do you plan on just standing around, Sebastian? I'd like to return to bed before the sun rises."

Turning on his heel to face his master, he lowered himself onto one knee, head bowed, and his right hand held to his chest. "You have but to say the words, Young Lord."

A soft sigh left the boy's lips, causing a smirk to play across his own mouth. "Very well. If I must."

He looked up through his bangs at the boy who stood before him in his nightshirt. The others were busy sharing their ridiculous theories about the cause of the disturbance, so none of them noticed their employer lift the simple patch which covered his right eye. Once uncovered, the mark of their contract came into full view, glowing with an unnatural light as the words passed Ciel's lips.

"Sebastian, I order you to find the cause of this mess."

He raised his gloved left hand until it covered his own right eye, the seal below the white cotton pulsing in time to that set into his master's eye. "As you wish, my Young Lord."

With that said, Sebastian sprang from his kneeling position and sprinted toward the area where he'd heard the original explosion, covering the great distance in less than a dozen steps. Along the way, he let some of his favorite pieces of silverware slip between his fingers in preparation for whatever might be waiting within the tall trees that surrounded the outer edges of the Earl's lands. He'd been prepared to do battle with all manner of beasts. After all, by the look of the old growth trees which had been toppled, it was bound to be something large and powerful. But now, as he stopped at the edge of the clearing which was newly created by the explosion, he had to admit that he was at a loss. In the center of an earthen crater he didn't find some ferocious beast, or even the remnants of any type of weapon. No, what he found was a silver-haired man sprawled face first and unmoving in the center of the space. His clothing was simple, and as far removed from his own tailcoat as one could get. In fact, the man wore white bandages around his lower legs which kept the dark pants close to his skin. A vest made of what looked to be a more durable green fabric was worn over a dark shirt, and some type of pouch was fastened across his hip. More white bandaging circled one thigh, with yet another pouch strapped over the binding.

Sebastian frowned as he took another look around the area, certain that there must be something else hidden nearby which would have caused this mess, other than the unconscious man. But he saw nothing out of place beyond the destroyed trees circling the newly formed crater. What was more, the pattern in which the various trees had fallen showed that they all fell away from the center point...as though a great force pushed out in all directions at the same time. He moved to the nearest fallen trees and inspected them a bit closer. It became clear to him that large sections of each were missing, and what was more, the missing sections were smooth and concave. A quick glance at the remaining trees revealed that every one of them had similar sections missing.

"How unexpected."

He stood and smoothed his clothing out before stepping down into the crater. The unknown person had yet to move, and for the briefest moment he had thought that perhaps he'd be bringing a corpse back to his master. But when he'd come within a yard of the man it became quite clear to him that it was not the case. He could smell the fresh blood seeping from the prone body, and as any demon worth his salt knew, the dead did not tend to bleed quite so freely. The scent that reached his nose was rich and seductive, filled with so much more than just the coppery overtones that most could detect. It told of a man who had seen much in his long life, and it, combined with the unusual manner of clothing he could see, sparked a curiosity in him that he hadn't felt in many long decades.

Sebastian moved closer still, until he could kneel down beside the man. He reached out with one gloved hand and rolled the unresponsive body over until it was face up, revealing yet another mystery. The silver hair was not a sign of age, as he had first concluded. The lower half of the man's face was covered by a cloth mask, making it difficult to judge his exact age properly, but it was clear that he was still what most would consider a young man. An old scar ran from just above his left brow, through the closed eyelid, and down below where the mask covered his face. The vest was covered in small, narrow pockets and, based on the fact that the man was still alive, it was obvious that its design was such that it was able to slow down whatever bladed weapon had been used to cause the slash across the man's chest. He imagined that the wound would have been fatal if not for the tailor's fastidious choice of fabric and design. Fingerless gloves with metal plates stitched into their backs, and sensible footwear completed the outfit, although the choice for open toes when the cold season was just around the corner was definitely a fashion risk.

Whoever this man was, it was clear that he'd seen combat recently. But, as far as Sebastian knew, no battlefields were active anywhere near the Phantomhive property at the moment. And if there had been any, generally they would be using pistols, rifles, and other projectile weapons and not blades. Particularly not blades of the size that would have been needed to cause a wound like the one he was looking at.

A puzzle, indeed.

xx-xx

The last thing Kakashi could clearly remember was the shock of sudden pain as Obito's blade pushed through his chest. Well, that and the feel of his own lightning-cloaked hand sliding into his former teammate's chest. The irony that he'd used his Raikiri jutsu to end the life of both of those shinobi who had been on his first team was not lost on him. Nor was the fact that his last clear view had been of Obito's own sharingan eye morphing into the advanced Mangekyo form that he had triggered in the eye gifted to him when he'd been thirteen.

He'd known that he was in trouble the moment that his body felt like it was being compressed and pulled through his own navel, and he couldn't help but wonder just what the technique might do to him physically and mentally as it was being triggered while the two were already in a different dimension than all of those fighting Madara Uchiha as an allied force were in. One part of his brain calculated that he'd likely be thrown back out to join the others, but wherever he'd landed was far too quiet to be the battlefield that he had left behind. Another part offered up the possibility that he would have simply ceased to exist, but if that was the case, he doubted that he would be in quite so much pain. After all, he'd been dead before, and it had felt nothing like this. Which left him with the fact that, wherever he now was, he'd need to open his eyes to get a clue of his current situation.

Unfortunately that was proving to be an impossible task. His body simply was not listening to his brain's silent urges to obey his commands. And he had barely a wisp left of his chakra to force his limbs to do his will. So, aside from his brain registering that he was face down on some very hard and unforgiving ground, he was in the dark about his location, or his current situation. He realized that he was not alone when he heard a quiet voice speaking in a language that he couldn't quite place. It was just at the edge of his hearing, but it was close enough to concern him. It could be an enemy, or with the way his luck was going lately, it could just have been his mind playing tricks on him.

The feeling of his body being rolled over without him doing it was enough to prove to his foggy mind that he hadn't imagined the voice. But what worried him at the moment was the fact that he hadn't heard the approach of anyone before he was manhandled. He tried to open his right eye, knowing that in his current state of chakra exhaustion that opening his left eye would be suicidal. But he couldn't manage to even flutter his eyelashes, let alone lift the lid. In short, he was at the mercy of whoever it was that had turned him over.

When he felt gloved fingers slide between his face and his mask he felt a surge of panic wash over him, and what little adrenaline he had left in his body, along with the muscle memory of blocking so many attempts of unmasking him, sent his arm up far enough for him to grip the wrist of his unknown assailant. He pushed one of the most pathetic growls of his career through his lips just before managing to utter a single word.

"Stop."

Of all the possible reactions to his word, Kakashi could honestly say that he had never expected his assailant to start chuckling at him. It wasn't the nervous titter of fear that he had caused in his enemies from time to time. No. It was as though his actions had amused whoever the hell this was. The fingers remained hooked under his mask as he was greeted with words which did nothing to clear his muddled head.

"My, but you are a long way from home, aren't you?"

The smooth baritone voice marked the speaker as male, and his words were spoken without a trace of accent to give away just where he had landed. In short, Kakashi was still in the dark about everything. And to make matters worse, his hold on the man's wrist did nothing to stop him from continuing to pull down his mask. His hand fell free of his assailant's wrist as the man finished what he'd started, and then turned him onto his side. A pressure in his chest that he hadn't even realized was there eased greatly with the change in position, and once he had coughed up a rather impressive amount of blood, he greedily pulled in fuller breaths of oxygen. When his breathing returned to something closer to normal, the unknown man spoke to him once more.

"I am certain that you'll find it far easier to breathe now that your lungs are not swimming in blood. But still, if you are to have any chance at living beyond this night, I will need to take you to my master's home."

Kakashi could only manage a grunt in response to the words, but that seemed to be enough for the man to take it as his agreement. The next thing that happened reminded him far too much of the numerous times that Gai had 'helped' him back to the village after he had overextended his chakra use. This unknown man placed his arms under Kakashi's knees and behind his back before lifting him with ease. The suddenness of the action actual caused him to experience a sharp wave of pain that caused him to open both eyes from the shock of it all. In his current position he had a perfect view of the stranger's face, but the contradicting views presented to his mind nearly made him pass out. While his regular eye showed him a young, dark-haired man, with skin as pale as his own, and eyes that reminded him of Kurenai's back home, the Sharingan was showing him a scene straight from his childhood nightmares. The skin shifted from pale white to a dusky gray; hair became a bit more untamed as it fell around what appeared to be dark ram's horns;sharp teeth that resembled those from someone native to the Village Hidden in the Mist peeked out between dark lips; eyes bearing slit pupils gazed down at him...seeming to shift in color like a burning flame waiting to consume him.

There was no mistaking what his sharingan was showing him. He was being carried by a demon. Not a jinchuriki, like Naruto or the others, but an actual demon. He forced his left eyelid closed as he tried to sort through the data at the same time that he attempted to calm his racing heart. A low chuckle brought his attention back to the creature holding him.

"You are full of surprises, Sir. I have the strangest feeling that you have seen through my current role with that unique eye of yours. But rest assured. So long as you do not threaten, or otherwise move to harm my master, you need not fear my true nature."

Kakashi glared at the man, still unable to form his words. Unfortunately, the only reaction that the act garnered was that his unlikely savior grinned at him in a most unsettling way. He was pulled in closer to the demon's chest, and he felt hot breath tickle his neck as soft words were spoken.

"Do try not to bleed on my tailcoat. The Young Master gave this to me, after all."

With that said, he was carried out of the trees and across a large, manicured lawn, toward a stone building that rivaled the Daimyou back in Fire Country. The speed with which the pair was traveling at was on par with his own speed when he was in top form, and the fact that this man was likely going slower than normal to take into consideration that he was carrying a wounded person meant that there was no way in hell that Kakashi would be able to best him with speed alone.

By the time those few thoughts had filtered through his mind, they had arrived at the house. They were greeted by three very loud, and strangely dressed, people. Two looked to be older than the third, but none of them were terribly old. There were two males, both with blond hair, although one was a bit older and taller than the other, and one female who was wearing glasses with lenses so thick that Kakashi was amazed she could see at all. They crowded around him, rattling off a series of questions in that same strange language that he'd heard before. Still, by listening carefully to the exchange between the three and the demon still holding him, he was able to grasp a handful of words and their probable meanings. For starters, it appeared that the creature holding him went by the name Sebastian. And by their reactions at some very tersely-toned words delivered to the trio, he seemed to be in a position of power over the them.

But at a series of softly spoken words behind them, it became very clear to Kakashi exactly who was holding the demon's leash. He felt the man's muscles tense ever so slightly a second before they turned to face the speaker. When he gained his first view of Sebastian's apparent master he was only slightly surprised to see that it was a young boy, barely into his teenage years by the look of him. Dark hair framed a finely-boned and pale face. But the set of the boy's shoulders, even as he stood with nothing on but a nightshirt, made it clear that he, indeed, held power over the demon.

The demon lowered his head in what probably appeared to be respect to the boy, but at the vantage point that Kakashi had, the expression on the man's face looked more like lust than loyalty. Particularly when the eyes held slit pupils and the tip of his tongue appeared between his lips, reminding him far too much of Orochimaru at that moment. But before he could make any further assessment, he felt the boy's fingers on his chin, gently guiding his head to turn until their eyes met. An eye of clear blue met his gaze, and it was then that he noticed that the boy's right eye was covered with a simple patch. Words slipped out of the youngster's lips in a bored tone that at once reminded Kakashi of himself when he was this age. And the look deep within that blue eye made him realize that he may share more in common with the boy than just an arrogant mode of speech in his teenage years.

Before he could deduce anything more, Sebastian's amused voice whispered in his ear. "It appears that you have caught my Young Lord's curiosity. He has ordered me to tend to your injuries, and make you comfortable while you heal."

Although not completely comfortable with his current situation, it seemed that he might yet survive. All he had to do was avoid becoming the target of a demon or his master, learn a foreign language so he wouldn't be blindsided, and find a way to return to Konoha. He sighed. Some days it just didn't pay to be him.

xx-xx

Endless lessons and mindless meetings seemed to be all he had to fill his days. Even the underworld had been ridiculously quiet, and he hadn't received an assignment from the Queen in over a month. It left him feeling uneasy, as though this was simply the calm before an upcoming storm. And all he could do was wait. Wait for the thunder and the lightning to roll into his life once more. And perhaps, this time, it would illuminate just who had been behind his parents' deaths and the destruction of the original Phantomhive Manor. Maybe this time he would have his revenge.

But until then, at least this stranger would provide him with a much-needed distraction. It was clear to him that the man hadn't understood anything being said to him until Sebastian had whispered in his ear, and he looked forward to learning more about him. And, of course, he wanted to learn just what part the man played in the destruction of a good portion of his estate.

By the time he'd reached his room he was far too worked up to even consider crawling back into bed. Perhaps he would spend some time reviewing the notes Sebastian had left for his numerous meetings come morning. With that settled, he reached for the knob only to have it pulled out of his reach when the door swung open. Waiting within his room was his butler, head bowed and a silver tray balanced on one hand. He sighed and moved toward his bed, knowing that he'd be expected to return to sleep now that the excitement was over. By the time he'd settled onto the mattress, Sebastian held a freshly poured cup of tea for him to take.

"To soothe your nerves, my Young Lord, I have prepared for you the finest of camomile teas, rumored to lull one into a dreamless sleep. The slightest hint of lemon paired with a whisper of honey from the Phantomhive Manor's bees adds the perfect level of complexity without affecting the inherent properties of the tea."

He took the cup and sipped the perfectly prepared liquid before returning the cup to its saucer and glancing up at Sebastian. "I trust that our guest wasn't adversely affected by your need to prepare my tea."

Ciel watched a smirk play across the man's lips just before he answered. "What kind of butler would I be if I couldn't provide comfort to our injured guest while meeting your every need?"

"I see." He took another sip of the tea. "Tell me all that you have learned about the man."

Again, he saw Sebastian's lips twitch. "As you wish, my Young Lord. Although I have not learned his name as of yet, I am confident that he comes from a remote land known as the Elemental Countries. It has been many years since I last set foot in those parts, but I believe that our guest is from the Land of Fire. Based on the array of weapons recovered from the various pouches on his body, he is likely a shinobi from within those lands."

Ciel frowned. "Shinobi?"

"Yes, my Lord. A specially trained warrior that is adept at hand to hand combat, as well as mastering the ability to mingle their physical and spiritual energies together in what might pass for magic here in England."

"Magic? That seems a bit unlikely."

"It is no more unlikely than making a pact with a demon, my Young Lord."

He looked away from the penetrating gaze that Sebastian leveled at him. "I'm tired. We will discuss this more later."

Sebastian helped him settle into his bed, taking special care to tuck his covers in around him. "Very well, my Lord."

Ciel watched him leave the room, and even though he had originally thought that sleep would escape him, he found his eyes refusing to stay open. A brief thought flickered through his mind that perhaps Sebastian had put something more than honey and lemon into his tea, but if there was one thing that he was sure of, it was that his butler would never do something against his wishes. So when sleep tugged once more at his senses, he gave into it, hopeful that he truly would enjoy a dreamless sleep.