A snowflake landed softly on (y/n)'s thin nose. Crossing her eyes, she stared at it for a moment, then blew it off.

Winter was finally settling in London; rooftops were bathed in fluffy white drapes and the air released with every breath was now visible as an opaque smoke. Purely-coloured white crystals fell from the sky endlessly, showering those beneath it.

"Young Master, may I ask where we are headed?" The words lazily escaped (y/n)'s pale lips as she tried to avoid getting any more snowflakes caught in her eyelashes.

Ciel sighed, suggesting that he wasn't looking forward to their destination. "Undertaker's. Sebastian, explain."

"Certainly, Master," acknowledged Sebastian. He turned to face (y/n) and met her (e/c) eyes. She burrowed her neck into the collar of her winter coat and looked away.

The demon explained, ignoring her reaction. "Mister Undertaker is an acquaintance of Master's. We are going to pay him a visit since he might have some information concerning the recent series of murders."

"So is he a policeman or something?" she asked confusedly.

"A moirtician, actually," corrected Sebastian.

(Y/n)'s nose wrinkled slightly. "Lovely."

The butler smirked. "Does being around life-deprived corpses bother you, (y/n)? Does pondering on their death wound you?"

She shrugged and made a face. "Not really. I just don't like the smell. Plus, they give me the willies. I'm not sure why."

Sebastian could almost taste her delicious soul right then. He stiffened, breaking all eye contact.

Suddenly, Ciel came to a stop. Before (y/n) could question anything more, she noticed a large sign over a door that read 'Undertaker'. The witch could already detect the thick stench of death that hung in it's atmosphere from outside. A skull over the entrance and a few nearby coffins completed the place's odd aura.

The Earl knocked on the door once firmly. The second time was even rougher. On the thrid try, he basically punched it, his high-class annoyance with people who didn't answer quickly enough kicking in.

Finally, there was a response. "Come in~" beckoned an odd voice.

The three didn't hesitate to do so; they quickly strolled in and scanned the place for any sign of life.

(Y/n) noticed that there was quite a large amount of empty coffins of all shapes and sizes lying around, awaiting their corpses. Some unusual tools were laid out on a nearby table, along with a few stray pots of paint. The witch gave a discrete shiver at the eerie feeling the walls and dark lighting set off.

No matter how long she observed the odd furniture and objects in the place, the so-called 'Undertaker' was no where to be found. Or so she thought.

Sebastian's thin gloved fingers swiftly positioned themselves on the edge of a shut coffin. With a sharp tug, the cover was removed, revealing an odd man inside. His hair was extremely long and gray and his clothing composed of nothing more than oversized black robes. Long bangs concealed his eyes and an odd hat was perched atop his head. The man cackled at his revelation and sat up, exiting his hideaway.

"Greetings, Earl Phantohive," the man performed an over-dramatic bow and giggled silently. "What brings you back here?"

"Undertaker," said Ciel, adjusting his posture to look taller. "Do you know anything about the recent series of murders?"

"Hmm," he mused teasingly. "Maybe, but maybe not. You know my price, Earl Phantomhive."

Ciel sighed. "Sebastian."

"Certainly, Sir."

The boy swiveled to exit the building, gesturing for (y/n) to follow. She cast him a questioning look, glanced at Sebastian, then did as told. They stood outside in silence for a few seconds.

"Young Master?" asked the witch.

"Yes?"

"Why did we need to leave? What exactly is Mr. Undertaker's 'price'?"

Ciel sighed again. "You'll hear in a minute."

'Hear it in a minute? What does he mea-' (Y/n)'s unsaid question was almost immediately answered by excessive laughter that shook the building to the point where the witch was concerned about it's stability.

The Young Master's face bore no expression- it was almost as if he had done this before many, many times before. They strolled back into the mortician's place. Once inside, they found Sebastian adjusting his gloves while the Undertaker's figure was sprawled on the ground. Loud chuckles and cackles escaped his lips as his hands tightly gripped his sides. Long story short, this whole scene increased (y/n)'s concern for his well-being.

"That was brilliant, butler," he uttered breathlessly, a large grin spread across his face. "You could become an amazing comedian, oh yes, you could..."

The witch met the demon's eyes and mouthed: 'What did you say?'. He simply brought a finger to his lips, then winked. She rolled her eyes and turned away.

"Alright Undertaker," began Ciel impatiently, eager to get this over with. "We've paid your price. Now give us some answers!"

Undertaker gave one last giggle and stood, waddling over to a cabinet. After opening it, he tossed a few odd things aside such as a hairbrush, a toothpick, and a pack of buttons in a search for something.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, extracting a large pile of papers. He made his way back to the three visitors and shoved it into Ciel's arms.

"These are some of my recent customers," he informed as the Earl took a peek at the contents. "Their deaths were like nothing I've ever dealt with before, you see."

"What do you mean?" questioned Ciel.

"They all died the same way, no doubt about that. But something bugs me..."

"What is it?"

"Well, I don't quite understand how they died, really."

"B-but how? You deal with the deceased all the time!"

Undertaker shrugged then took a long glance in (y/n)'s direction, almost as if analyzing her. He smiled as she shifted uncomfortably.

"Maybe your servant should have a look at them," said the silver-haired man.

"You mean (y/n)?" asked Ciel, following the odd man's stare. "Why?"

Undertaker cackled again. "Something tells me that she might be familliar with their death causes."

All eyes were on the girl as she blinked a few times in confusion. Familliar with their death causes? What on earth was he talking about? Was he implying that she might've been the killer?

"Well (y/n)," said the Young Master finally, shattering the thick silence. "Go on then."

The witch complied, following Undertaker through a door that led to the basement. Sebastian and his Master were close behind, though she could've sworn that they were a little farther back than usual. The air downstairs was murky and unpleasant; the stench of rotting corpses hung in the air so strongly that even humans were overwhelmed by it. She covered her nose with her sleeve and copied Undertaker's footsteps, who didn't seem bothered at all.

"Here we are," he announced as they arrived to a lineup of seven covered corpses that were seperated from the rest. "I haven't quite finished preparing them yet. You're lucky."

The mortician removed the drapes one by one, revealing the bodies hidden beneath. Oddly enough, there was no gore whatsoever- if anything, these people looked as if they were too perfect to have died. Aside from that, none of their physical traits were shared; their ages, heights, features, skin tones (etc.) all differed from one another. This meant that to solve this crime, they would have to dig deeper.

(Y/n) scanned each and every one of the corpses over and over again, never once noting anything that stood out besides their beauty. Until she sensed something.

The sheer strength of it almost made her fall over. She took a few steps away from the corpses, trembling slightly, until she bumped into someone. Sebastian.

"What's wrong?" he asked, some twisted form of concern lacing his words. "Did you see something?"

The witch's breaths were uneven and ragged. Her eyes were wide with fear- a fear she had forgotten long ago.

"I-It-s..." The words were getting caught in her throat, never fully weaving themselves into sentences.

By this time, even Ciel seemed worried. "What? What is it?"

(Y/n) took a deep breath, composing herself. She listened to Sebastian's barely audible breathing pattern and matched her own to it, then turned to face her Master.

"I know how th-they died," she said simply.

Everyone addressed her with expressions that read 'continue'.

One more inhale. "Dark Magic."

There was another witch in town.

Of that, (y/n) was certain.

She was also a Dark Witch, an uncommon one, an outcast. Then there was the familiarity of her Dark Magic- that troubled (y/n) the most. It was almost as if she'd known her in the past...

The girl shook those thoughts away. She had never met another witch before.

(Y/n) let out a groan at how puzzling the situation was. Her top half was sprawled across a desk in the Phantomhive manor. She had been granted a day off from regular chores since she was probably the only one capable of solving this mystery. That was nice on the Earl's part, but incredibly stressing. The witch hardly understood the killer's way of crime and yet Ciel still expected her to solve it in a short time period.

She flipped through the files Undertaker had lent them for what seemed like the hundredth time, noticing nothing new. Then, she went back to thinking until her brain hurt.

Hours passed and (y/n) had barely made any progress. She went through book after book and had no luck. She walked around the home in an attempt to give herself a new perspective on the situation. She visited crime scenes, libraries, homes of the deceased's relatives, and countless other areas without success.

The witch even spent some time analyzing random passersby to check if they were her kind. No luck there, either.

"Ugh," she moaned, smudging the ink on one of her notes with her face. "I'm missing something, but I don't know what..."

The door opened and she sensed a familiar presence. "Good evening, (y/n). I see you haven't allowed yourself to rest yet."

Her eyelids drooped, as if to prove his point. Not knowing what else to say, the girl let out a 'mmm' in response.

Sebastian made his way over to her desk and observed her carefully. "I can tell you've almost figured it out," he stated after a minute.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious," replied (y/n) sarcastically. Much to her shock, Sebastian didn't smirk or chuckle.

The witch shifted her gaze ever so slightly to meet his demonic-red eyes. They were blank, but in a dark corner of their sadistic state, she caught a glimpse of something that resembled actual concern.

(Y/n) pretended not to notice, feeling utter exhaustion creep up into her senses. That analysis had just taken most of the little energy that remained in her. She looked away from the demon and back to the huge mess in front of her.

Sebastian gently grabbed her chin with two fingers and wiped away the ink that stained the witch's face with a sweetness he himself didn't believe possible. All throughout this, his instinct was yelling at him to back away now, to exit the room, to avoid this desirable soul; to control himself. He ignored it.

"W-what are y-" began (y/n) softly.

"The ink stains your lovely features and I want to be rid of it," Sebastian stated flatly, yet sincerely. She widened her feline-like eyes ever so slightly but didn't reply. His fingers gently unlatched themselves from her chin.

The butler watched as she exhaled loudly in frustration and ran a hand through her tangled (h/c) hair. He could tell that she wasn't going anywhere now; she was too tired to think straight.

He wrapped his arms around her. She wasn't even in cat form.

"Rest," he whispered, more commandingly than affectionately, in a way.

Her breath hitched ever so slightly, but she stubbornly stared at the paperwork, refusing to give up. He sighed and picked her up bridal-style. His grip was gentle enough not to hurt her, but firm enough to keep her from wriggling free; something she was attempting at the moment.

"No..." she muttered, reaching out pathetically to the table. "Almost got it... Must finish..."

The rest of her words were incomprehensible as she stopped trying to free herself. She would've if she could, but she was so tired.

And his arms were so strong.

She burrowed herself into his chest and let exhaustion drag her eyes down.