The heavy droplets of rain poured onto stone, lightning crackling and thunder booming in the distance, and the ringing of metal clashing against metal could be heard on the secluded rooftop of Buckingham Palace. What was meant to be a simple reunion between friends had turned into a rivalry of deep hatred for each other's families and pasts. More or less Ciel's own hatred.

It was getting tiring, both their swords having dents and blemishes from how much they had been used, their bodies weighed down by the sheer amount of water that was soaking into the fabric of their clothing. The Earl of Phantomhive had switched to the defensive, moving sloppily as he tried his best to stall his position for as long as possible, before Sebastian could arrive to aid him in this heated battle— but the butler was nowhere to be found.

This was a matter of life or death over a rivalry, so much so that Ciel didn't care that his eyepatch had loosened and fell to the dampened ground, revealing his faintly glowing eyes beneath. He had already called out for Sebastian's aid a while ago, but that damned demon was taking a bit too long to arrive.

Ciel seemed to be on his own now.