In This Hell ( V i o l e t ) [Kuroshitsuji 2] {Completed}

Chapter V : An Empty Past

And if I had the guts to put this to your head...

But would anything matter if you're already dead?

But that was not the case.

I really should have realized I said to myself afterwards, when we were travelling back home and I was trying to deal with the wave of despondency that was pulling me down. The day was beautiful, with another sparkling blue sky, but I felt empty. Yet an additional let down from the elusive Gregory Violet.

I'd expected to see him the next day, at the final match between the Purple and Green Houses. However, there was absolutely no sight of him; strange, given the fact that he was supposed to be assisting at the game. I tried to think nothing of it; I truly did. But part of me was wondering if I should be blaming myself - if it was my fault that Violet had failed to show up. Could it be possible that he was... trying to avoid me, after the previous night? I knew I'd come on too strong. I suppose I was coming across as desperate. The fragile blossom of self-confidence that was beginning to bloom inside my chest had died.

I was definitely coming across as desperate.

Did I really clamour so much for a man's affections that I was willing to pursue someone as... as strange as Violet? Someone who would disappear so often, and at such inopportune times? Besides, where did he even go?

I decided to do a little research of my own.

He'd make a joke about a future career in Scotland Yard, but I was going to put my meddling personality to good use. A week after we'd returned home (what I deemed was an acceptable, and rather agonizing amount of time), I knocked quietly on the smooth, dark door of my father's study.

"Come in," he said gruffly. I pushed the door open and edged over the threshold. The office that my father spent most of his time in was a high ceilinged room on the second floor of our townhouse, with wooden panels gracing the walls and lengths of rose-coloured fabric drawn over the wide windows. The one thing I mainly disliked about the room, however, was the distasteful amount of stuffed, dead game hanging about. That was why I made a habit of not coming in there very often.

"Father?"

"Oh, hello, Gracie," my father replied, pushing the pile of papers in front of him down the other side of the desk. His greyish-brown moustache ruffled slightly as he blew a puff of air up through it. "Are you alright?"

"I was actually wondering if I could ask you a favour," I said, almost shyly, and glanced down into my lap.

"What is it you want?" He was back to reading the notes on the desk again, and I sighed. Not exactly the enthused response that I was hoping for.

"I'm looking for papers on someone." Made no sense to waste time on anyone. "Gregory Violet."

"Gregory Violet?" He turned back to me, with a sceptical expression on his face. "Christopher Violet's son, if I'm correct?"

I wouldn't know, that why I need the accursed papers. "I'm not sure. But he's wealthy, yes."

"What would you want to know about him for?" My father began to search in the drawer beside him, and pulled out a piece of paper and a fountain pen. "They're an odd bunch, those Violets. Don't make much of an effort when it comes to social gatherings. In fact, I'm unsure if I've ever even seen Christopher in this house, and we're in business together."

"Really?" I tilted my head to the side, blinking. "What business is that?"

I knew that father was one of the chairpersons of the Queen's Council- I'd grown up most of my life knowing it. Because if there was something that I, or Anton, or Joanne wanted, we did not go without. His power was near absolute. But surely, if Violet's father was on the Council also, I would have met him before?