The Harlequin
CrossAcademy22

A travelling circus was in London, and Elizabeth was excited. She had never been to one before, and tonight she would be.

In a simply designed bustle dress consisting of a constricting corset as well as layers and layers of petticoats, she walked through London's cobbled streets. Her curly chignon of blonde hair bounced against her shoulder as she moved along with a throng of people with the same destinations as hers. When she finally arrived at the circus ground's entrance, she let her ticket be inspected and entered the colossal striped tent. It must have seated at least two hundred people! She easily found an empty row of seats and quickly took one before anyone else could.

She took in everything she saw – there was a large performance ring in the middle of it all, and two very tall poles stood on either sides of the ring. A rope ran itself from one pole to the other. She vaguely wondered what they were for.

She was fascinated by every single one of the performances and did not realized how much time has passed but it was already the break between the acts. Her sweet tooth drove her outside, where a few rows of stands selling confectionaries were.

As she neared one of the stands, her eyes caught the sight of small boxes of chocolates, each topped with a pink dotted bow. She picked one up.

'How much does it cost, sir?'

'Ten pence.'

Elizabeth paid and thanked the man. On her way back inside, she unwrapped the box for a peek inside and that was when a flash of brightly coloured person bumped into her. The opened box flew from her hands and fell onto the ground. The chocolates were scattered everywhere.

'Forgive me, miss! I didn't see you!'

Elizabeth looked up to see a young man around her height with a brightly coloured mask. His costume was adorned with diamond patterns, and was as brightly coloured as his mask was. His mask was a bit odd in her opinion because it has only but one slit, making only his left eye visible. The only feature she could clearly see is his dark hair, not black, but not bright either – somewhere in the middle, perhaps. Even in the dim light of nearby gas lamps and stands, his mask glittered like the stars of the night sky. Was he one of the circus performers?

'That's alright, sir. I was careless.'

The man looked at the chocolates that were originally in her hands. 'Your chocolates are ruined.'

'It's fine. I'll just buy a new one.'

'The performance is about to begin. Please, allow me to buy a new one for you. Wait for me at your seat after the end of the performance.'

Before Elizabeth could utter another word, he left.

'Now, I present to you the Harlequin who will amaze us with his deadly tightrope walking!'

A single spotlight made its way up above, where a young man with a brightly coloured mask stood on a platform. His costume was adorned with diamond patterns, and was brightly coloured like his one-eyed mask.

Elizabeth gasped.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the man began to walk forward, balancing himself on the rope. One slip could mean death for him, and that was what made it exciting for the audience. The Harlequin, however, stepped on it confidently, and walked to the end, even with seeing everything with only his left eye. Everyone seemed to heave a sigh of relieve when the Harlequin finally made it across and a thunder of applause was heard.

The tent was almost empty, save for a few audiences in idle chatters or were on their way out. A slight cough was heard, bringing her attention to him.

'I didn't think you'd stay.' He sat down beside her, not too close and not too far.

'Why wouldn't I?'

'Here.' He handed her a box of chocolates similar to the one earlier.

'Thank you very much, sir. You really shouldn't have gone that far.'

'It's only chocolates and besides, it was my fault.'

She opened the wrappers and took one in her hand. She popped one in her mouth and enjoyed that blissful moment when it melted sweetly on her tongue. From his voice, she could make out that the Harlequin was just a young boy. Her age, maybe. From the slits too, she could now make out his eyes – well, only his one eye – it was as blue as the deep ocean, and she found herself lured into it.

They remind her of something. Of someone. She cleared her throat and looked to the ring down below, before speaking.

'I enjoyed your act.'

'Thank you.'

She offered him a piece of the chocolates, but he shook his head gently. Elizabeth couldn't tell if he was smiling or not. Although the mask was.

'Would you mind taking the mask off?'

'I'm afraid not.'

'Why?'

'You'd run away.'

She stifled a laugh. A sudden loss of warmth can be felt as the Harlequin stood. Moments of silence filled the space between them, but she could feel his eyes on her.

'There's lots of things need to be done at the back. I'll be seeing you 'round.'

Once more, before she could say anything, the Harlequin was gone.

Today she wore a light blue dress, and a matching headdress topped her head, held in place by a ribbon tied just underneath the shape of her jaw. It's scratchy, and she hated it.

Her mother had been completely against her wish of visiting the circus again, but a promise of finishing her Latin recital with her governess had her. Not to mention she was wandering in London without the escort of a chaperone. Elizabeth longed to see the Harlequin again. She wanted to know his name and so much more.

It might be insensible to be so friendly to a person she just met, but she was just that fond of him. There was something about that blue eye of his. It begged her to visit him again. She arrived at the circus, and didn't even mind having to watch the performances all over again.

It was soon the break again, and instead of going outside to the stands, she stayed. Like yesterday, the Harlequin's act would be after the break, and she doesn't want to miss it. The raised volume from the audiences caught her attention and she was surprised to see the Harlequin walking up to her, before finally taking a seat beside her. She blushed.

'Sir!'

'Evening, miss.'

'What are you doing here?'

'Shouldn't I be asking you that instead?'

She blushed harder. He suddenly gave her a box of chocolates, similar to yesterdays.

'Thank you. Well, I was just bored at home, so be quiet.'

'I take it you're not from 'round here, are you? From the way you dress and all.'

She gratefully opened the box and picked one up, before shaking her head gently.

'No, I am not.' She frowned. 'Is there anything wrong with that?'

He chuckled and shook his head. 'Nope. Just wondering why someone like you'd want to visit a circus twice is all. Without a chaperone, too.'

The blush that was just about to disappear from her cheeks found its way back to them.

'Like I said, I was bored. Being stuck in a manor house at night isn't exactly very fun.'

'A manor, eh? You're one of them nobles?'

She was about to pick another one up but the tone of voice of the Harlequin stopped her. He sounded as if he despised the nobles. It's not that uncommon or unheard of. Nobles these days had done various things to the working class men – awful things – that it's only normal for them to hate them back. She leaned in closer to him and whispered:

'You hate the nobles, do you not?'

He seemed to flinch at her sudden question, but then relaxed.

'Father and mother are not like that; they're philanthropists. They help the poor,' she said, as she finally pick another up and popped it into her mouth. She heard a scoff.

'They're all the same,' he spat. 'Philanthropists or not, they're all the same. Greedy, sickening, terrible in every aspect.'

She turned to him, her face all scrunched up. 'Excuse me?' she said, as if she hadn't heard him clear enough.

'You heard me. And yes, I do hate them. So much you wouldn't know.'

'May I ask why that is?'

'No,' he suddenly stood up. 'You should go. I've got to prepare myself too.'

He started to walk away, but she grabbed his arm. 'W-wait! Don't go!'

He didn't yank his arm away, but stood there. 'I'm really sorry, miss, but please let go.'

She let him go, not because of his order, but because of the staring eyes all around them. It was not appropriate for young ladies to grab the sleeves of a gentleman in public, any way. 'Fine. I will go too. And I will never show myself again.'

He stood there silently, his face fixed to the ground.

'Forgive me if I've caused some unfortunate memories to resurface themselves in your mind,' Elizabeth said almost painfully. 'Goodbye.'

With that, she walked past the Harlequin, and left him there alone in between the rows of seats, with the lingering scent of roses behind. It hurts. It hurts so much to hear such a thing from him, and it was... unexpected.

The lone blue eye watched through the single slit of the mask as she blended in and disappeared within the throng of people. He left the chocolate box there on the sit and made his way to the back of the main tent, ignoring the stares and whispers of those around him. His feet felt like they were chained by invisible shackles, and his mind weighed so heavily he could faint. He knows why he acted that way, but he couldn't help himself, and it was true that the girl had brought some memories that were best kept away in the dark corners of his mind to resurface. But he lost himself and went to hate her when he told himself not to. She doesn't deserve his hatred.

Slipping into a dark tent housing large crates of the circus troupe's belongings, he went to lean against one. His back slid down against it, and he let out a groan as he slumped to the ground. He felt the anger, weakness and sadness all mixed up inside him. It's frustrating. Grabbing at his hair, he frowned at the nothingness that could be seen through his right eye. Damn it. Damn it all.

If only he could hug her once more, feeling her warmth in his embrace like before. But she doesn't even recognize him. How can she? He's hidden behind this colourful mask, showing a fake smile to everyone and her. He wants to hear Elizabeth calls his name once more… his name that means the Heaven or Sky in French. The name that she adored so much. The name that she had so beautifully wrote in cursive in the letter she had sent him years ago. The name… well, it doesn't matter anymore. He can't show himself to her. Because to her, he's dead. The young heir to the Phantomhive family who was kidnapped and murdered. His body was never found.

But this is alright. She is living on, at least. She no longer mourns or puts bouquet of flowers to the empty grave – with the epitaph bearing his name – every year anymore. She had stopped doing that around a year or two ago, though she still puts a rose. He can no longer return to neither his house nor his life before.

Ciel Phantomhive doesn't exist.

He's dead.

And everyone is happy.