#eclipsetickles

“Now, to test our hypothesis out…” The white haired man teased, hovering his hands over Gen's sides, giving him a poke on either side to test the waters. Gen's breath hitched, but otherwise he remained expressionless. Now that wouldn't do.

“A lot of the most ticklish spots on the body tend to be our most vulnerable points, such as the neck, torso, underarms, feet, y'know, all the places you'd wanna protect.” Senku continued, taking no notice that his audience had lessened to just his right hand man.

“I'll be the first to admit that your theory oesn't-day apply to everyone, my dearest Senku. Some people just can't be tickled, myself included.” Gen admitted shamelessly as if it were a bragging right. Senku paused and stared at him blankly, raising an eyebrow.

“You're trying to tell me you're not ticklish anywhere? Fat chance.” He crossed his arms, half interested, half unconvinced. Gen shifted self-consciously at the sudden attention.

“It's true, I assure you.” he stood firm, causing Senku to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the claim.

“Sure, some people can attempt to “turn off” the reactions, but there's almost always at least one spot that feels ticklish. Basically, I don't believe you, not by one millimeter.” Senku shook his head fondly, shifting his gaze right back at Gen with almost dangerous seeming intensity.

“Tell you what, let's test this claim of yours, mentalist. For science.”

Gen went pale in the face, unsure of how to respond, knowing damn well he brought this ridiculous situation upon himself. Mistakes were made. The worst part was, he was no stranger to shutting up for his own benefit. Why hadn't he just done that this time?

“Well? Whaddya say?” Senku grinned, feeling as if he were about to catch the mentalist in a really funny lie.

Gen was stumped. He knew that if he were to say yes, he likely wouldn't be able to contain his reactions as soon as Senku started his experiment. On the other hand, if he were to say no, that would basically be admitting he lied for no good reason. Damn. What a bind he had gotten himself into.

“Fine. If you must.” Gen gave in, attempting to appear unbothered by the fact he was totally about to get found out. However, if he managed to summon the strength to remain expressionless, maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to fool the scientist. He proceeded to gingerly remove his overcoat, setting it beside him on the rock he was seated upon, then standing, finding the will to look Senku directly in the eyes with a faint smirk.

“Do your orst-way”

Senku, who ordinarily didn't look like a particularly scary or strong foe, was looking much more intimidating by the second as he slowly approached, as if to give Gen a few extra seconds to back out. Gen however, closed his eyes, standing still waiting for Senku to strike. Senku had to admit, he was impressed by Gen's resolve, even though he had already deduced without a doubt that Gen was one billion percent lying to him.

“Don't worry, Gen. You won't find me telling anyone. All that I ask in exchange is you allow me to analyze this interesting quirk of yours further.” The scientist leaned against a nearby tree, chucking quietly to himself at Gen's flustered reaction.

With a chuckle, Senku did it again, following it up with the rest of his fingers skittering up Gen's sides.

Damn… This isn't looking good. I'm already starting to crack… Gen thought, the corner of his lips curling into a small smile, snickering faintly.

“Heh. Now, what was that? I'm gonna have to replicate what I was doing to see if it happens again.” Senku, who definitely knew what he was doing, proceeded to repeat his actions, eliciting a much more audible giggle from Gen, who went red at the realization that his cover was blown.

Senku however, leered at him looking all too self-assured.

“Based on the data I've analyzed, I've come to my conclusion… You lied.” Senku cheerily announced as he began to wreak havoc on Gen's torso. Gen's entire body spasmed, sending him falling to the ground and landing flat on his ass. That didn't discourage Senku at all, who had dropped the farce of this being a scientific experiment, as he knelt down to continue tickling the mentalist all over.

Gen howled with laughter, feeling rather silly for ever thinking he could outsmart the most intelligent man in the Kingdom of Science.

“AHAHALRIGHT! YEHES I LIEHEHED! I'M SOHOHRRY!!” Gen squealed, attempting to curl up and avoid Senku's unusually dextrous fingers. Senku on the other hand was unfazed by this, rolling his eyes and targeting his ribs with a piano-like motion.

“And here I thought you were being honest with me. I'm pretty hurt, y'know that? Can't have liars in the Kingdom of Science, so I fear I might just have to tickle you to death.” The scientist tried his hardest to mask the entertainment in his voice, but it didn't seem to be working. He was grinning ear to ear, a sight that would fluster Gen if he had the courage to look up at his attacker.

“NOHOT NIHIHICE!” Gen cried out, knowing Senku was just taking his opportunity to mess with him at this point. Not that he minded entirely, as Senku didn't often get the chance to humble the smug, often unscrupulous mentalist. He just really wished it didn't tickle so damn much.

“Never claimed to be.” Senku shot back with a grin as he sat back and let his friend breathe. He couldn’t deny, the sight before him was nothing short of hilarious. Gen lay sprawled out on the ground, hair sticking up at funny angles, still shaking with soft uncharacteristic giggles. If the other residents of the village were to see him in this state, their jaws would hit the ground. Senku couldn't help but admit, he was grateful to be the one to see the usually guarded man with such a genuine smile.

Sadly, this didn't last long as Gen took a deep breath and calmed himself before sitting up and brushing the dirt off his clothes with the back of his hand.

“Heh… Sorry, I got you pretty good there. Then again, you did bring this entirely upon yourself. Why did you give yourself away there? You should have known I would have to test a claim like that, Mentalist.”

Gen seemingly recoiled when Senku pointed out a very valid point, unsure of how exactly he could respond.

“That's azy-cray! I-I didn't…” The mentalist stumbled over words in an attempt to explain his rather poor self-preservation skills, eventually sighing and slumping over in embarrassment, unable to clarify his logic.

“Well… I suppose these are agreeable terms. However, you seem to have ailed-fay to consider-”

Senku yelped as Gen launched himself forward with a scheming grin.

He's VERY aware of this weakness of his. Sometimes a little too aware.

Highly likely to end up in a giggly panic if a hand gets too close to any ticklish spot.

If his assumption is wrong and the other hadn't considered tickling him before, they sure have the idea now.

He may as well be a professional at accidentally exposing how ticklish he is. Womp womp.

He already has a very loud and boisterous laugh, so imagine when he's being tickled. He's the loudest man alive

"Bwahahah-! DUDE!! GYAHAHA!"

His worst spots include his tummy, sides, ribs, and feet but it's safe to assume that it's harder to find a place that ISN'T ticklish

Will squirm, flail and kick pathetically (and it looks hilarious)

He doesn't necessarily mind being tickled. All that he asks is that you make sure his glasses are safely set off to the side to avoid damaging them.

Out of all the allies, he's the most likely to start rambunctious tickle fights.

If he's feeling hyper (which is a common occurrence), he's bouncing around the room attempting to tickle everyone.

France tends to take it the best out of all of them while England and Russia battle for first place on who takes it the worst.

Growing up, America and Canada had many tickle fights

Though America won most of them, Canada had some tricks up his sleeve that he knew would win.

He still occasionally tickles America at random to this day.

Especially when he's invisible.

America is not above using tickles as a way to beat you in a video game.

If you accept an invite to play Smash Bros. with him, make sure you're out of reach because he WILL casually reach over and skitter some fingers in a weak spot.

Then proceed to win the game and brag about how good he is (perfect time to humble him).

Poor Japan is a common victim, though he's learning how to outsmart the American.

Prussia (Gilbert Beilschmidt)

Prussia is a menace, that much needs no real explanation.

That said, if there wasn't a way to take him down a peg or two, he would have caused a LOT more chaos than he already does.

Thankfully, there is a very reliable way, found by Germany when both of them were small.

Spider your fingers across the side/back of his neck and he'll jump and quiet down real quick.

There's a 75% chance he'll look at his attacker for a moment then book it faster than you've ever seen if threatened with more tickles.

Good opportunity for a chase.

He's not above dramatically calling out to France and Spain for help/backup.

This is a lethal trio by the way, and they're professionals at teasy tag team tickles, so if the three of them are targeting you, you better be fast.

The master of evading the tickles (he thinks so at least)

Unfortunately when he's flustered, he's clumsy and will trip over his own feet or accidentally out his hiding spot.

It's not uncommon for him to scheme a master plan to ambush his ler with tickles (which works less than you would expect considering he's a trained fighter)

Basically all roads lead to him getting wrecked.

Definitely a shy lee

His worst spots include his neck, ears, underarms, and behind the knees.

In his mind, being ticklish is not one of his more "awesome" qualities, so he'll attempt to avoid at any cost

If you use his own quirky traits and pestering against him, there's high odds he'll decide to tickle you to make you stop

After all, there's not enough room for 2 awesomely chaotic goobers. There can only be one.

If Gilbird is nearby, he may direct him to nuzzle his feathers into your neck.

Occasionally Gilbird gets confused and goes for Prussia's neck instead.

Cue a giggling Prussia rolling around on the ground, defeated by his own attack.

His most common target for tickles is his little brother Germany or Austria, though Italy definitely isn't safe from his awesome wrath.

Stanley sparked a cigarette beside him, raising a brow as his beloved leader sat lost in thought. With a fond chuckle, he knelt down beside the doctor as if he had read his mind, removing the cigarette from between his berry-colored lips and proceeded to whisper an idea in Xeno's ear. Xeno let out a hum, considering Stanley's words. Not a bad idea at all. A little unorthodox, sure, but in an interrogation, it just may work.

Turning his head to look at Stanley, Xeno's mouth curled into what could only be described as a devious grin.

“Yes, Stan. That should do quite nicely. A rather elegant solution if I do say so myself!” Xeno remarked, chuckling darkly to himself.

“Locate the spy.”

—

Meanwhile, in Xeno's workshop, Gen was investigating the sheer amount of weapons and ammo the colony had been able to produce so far, knowing that this was far from the last of it. Gen swallowed thickly. If he didn't know better, he would have thought the Americans had avoided petrification altogether with how advanced and destructive their creations were.

The sound of footsteps behind the mentalist made him freeze in place, hesitant to turn around and see the one who had caught him snooping. Real slick, Gen. This could be ad-bay.

“Come along now. You're needed by Dr. Xeno.” Stanley demanded quietly, placing a hand on Gen's shoulder, urging him to follow with authority. Without a word, Gen obeyed silently, just glad he wasn't shot down immediately where he stood.

With that, Stanley led the misplaced spy straight to his boss, Dr. Xeno, who smirked and stood from his desk to greet the mentalist before him.

“Ah, there you are. Thank you, Stanley.” Xeno approached slowly, staring Gen right in the eye, and though Gen looked cool as a cucumber on the outside, internally he squirmed at the intense amount of attention he was suddenly getting. Stanley took a seat in the corner of the room, lighting yet another cigarette, on guard in the off case the spy chose to attack all by himself. It was unlikely, sure, but he didn't want to let his guard down.

“Ahh, Dr. Xeno! Lovely weather we're having!” Gen cheerily chirped, wondering if the pleasantries were laid on a little too thick considering his current position. Luckily for him, Xeno seemed to all but ignore it, rather preferring to get straight to the point.

“So, Mr. Gen… I happen to have some more questions for you. You're willing to answer, aren't you?” Gen shifted in his spot, realizing what was going on, contemplating his options carefully. First and foremost, he could tell this evil scientist everything he knew, but that probably wouldn't be beneficial to anyone but the American colony. Not to mention, the last thing he would want to do is sell out all his friends and possibly see the Kingdom of Science fall as a result.

Then again, he could also say nothing at all and simply hope for the best. That may be his best option, as he knew that Dr. Xeno was getting wise to his deception and he didn't fancy risking digging himself into a deeper hole than he was already in if caught being deceitful.

Gen remained silent, subtly pressing his lips together as if the intense gaze from the scientist would act as a truth potion. Xeno clicked his tongue. Now, that just won't do.

“Now, I don't believe you were being completely honest the last time I questioned you. We'll try this again, and I do expect better answers this time.” Xeno circled Gen, who stood stiffly in place unsure of what was to come… That was until he felt the cold touch of a blunt metal claw on the back of his neck, trailing downwards, eliciting a shiver from the mentalist who tried his hardest to remain composed.

“Eek! That's cold!” He exclaimed, unaware that the temperature of the claws was going to be the least of his worries very soon.

“Tell me more about this Dr. Taiju. What does he look like?” The scientist loomed over the mentalist, who dutifully remained silent, much to Xeno's entertainment. He didn't expect to get a lot of genuine information out of the spy, but in the event that his experiment did reward him with a piece of genuine information, he would absolutely use that to his advantage.

With a look that read as eager about the mentalist's disobedience, he continued to prod to see what he would discover.

“Now, to test my hypothesis. Will the rather stubborn subject I have here…” added another claw, and another, wriggling his dextrous fingers so the claws skittered towards the side of Gen's neck. Gen immediately lost all composure, squeaking out and flinching away from the touch instinctively.

“...Squeal on his companions?” Xeno leaned in closer and smiled with a distinctive sneer that told Gen that this was no laughing matter… or maybe it was. Who's to say? Gen however, wasn't saying much as he covered his mouth with both hands, the ghost of a sheepish guilty grin hidden behind them. Why is it always the neck!? Of course something like this happens when I'm the hostage… Senku, you owe me one for this!

His internal monologue was cut short by the genius scientist in front of him who proceeded to use his other hand as well, bringing them to either side of his neck, skittering the metal claws on his fingers along it, watching expectantly as the mentalist tried to avoid the touches.

Never in his life had Gen expected something like metal to tickle so damn much! It didn't help that those metal claws were being controlled with the precision that could only belong to a genius scientist who was determined to see him break. Worse yet, if things kept up like this, he would crumble into a giggling mess in front of the enemy. How very embarrassing! His shoulders raised in an attempt to protect his poor neck, arms crossing in a weak defense against the offending claws.

“Come now, Mr. Gen. Who is Dr. Taiju?” The man half interrogated, half teased. Gen on the other hand couldn't help but snicker, not just from the ticklish sensation, but also from the mention of Dr. Taiju, knowing the sheer absurdity of the musclehead having anywhere near the scientific prowess of Senku. Xeno shook his head with fake exasperation, summoning his second in command to come closer.

“Stanley, his arms.” The scientist ordered and without another word, the sniper obeyed, effortlessly grabbing Gen by the wrists and holding both arms just over his head. Trying to swallow down the nerves and strangely enough, a bit of a flustered shy feeling as well, Gen prepared himself for what came next. If he were able to accurately predict where Xeno would target, it may be easier to suppress his laughter…

Once Gen was adequately held in place, Xeno wasted no time in hovering his claws closer and closer to Gen's underarms, wriggling them mid air just a few centimeters away from the target. The mentalist took a deep breath in preparation, only to choke out a yelp followed by a funny sounding chortle when the scientist went for his waist instead, completely tricking him with the feint attack.

If Stanley hadn't had Gen by the arms, he likely would have been on the ground at this point with how much it tickled. Just how much would he be able to get away with saying to make the two satisfied without exposing his friends?

“Gyahahah!! C'mon, cuhut it ohohout!!” He pleaded with a bright smile, squirming in Stanley's hold as Xeno changed his approach, using one hand to skitter across Gen's tummy and the other spidering it's way agonizingly slowly up to Gen's underarm, eliciting some nervous titters.

“Surely you're smart enough to figure out how to get out of this situation, Gen. You know what I want.” Xeno couldn't help but softly chuckle to himself. He couldn’t deny he was rather entertained by this strange little mentalist and just how horribly ticklish he was, as silly as it sounded. The stone world didn't provide very much lighthearted entertainment at all, so needless to say he was enjoying this.

Just as Gen was about to respond sarcastically, the ever-creeping claws found their target, and it was worse than Gen had ever imagined. Xeno's quick precise movements were just enough to make Gen fall apart. Somehow, it was like Xeno was examining every reaction he got, and adapting his approach as if to make Gen break.

“DR. TAIJUHUHU IHIHIS- QUIHIT IHIT!!! AHAHAH-” Gen began, cut off by the flood of laughter. If he were to give Xeno anything at this point, it would be impossible to understand. Xeno seemed to understand this, slowing down and allowing Gen to catch his breath.

“Well?” The scientist questioned, proceeding to poke between each rib gently.

“Eheheh… Dr. Taiju is exactly the person people ask too any-may questions about.” Stanley groaned in response to this, as if listening to Gen dodge the point was painful. With that, he adjusted his hold so he was in front of Gen, using one strong arm to loop behind Gen's back, hand resting on the vulnerable side which he wasted no time digging into; while his other hand held both wrists once again above his head. Xeno fondly shook his head at Stan's impatience, joining his partner in tickling the impudent mentalist to tears.

Just as Gen thought he would lose his mind, the onslaught ended, allowing him to take a large breath and a sigh of relief, albeit still shaking with residual giggles. His relief didn't last too long, as Stanley, who likely trusted that Gen could still stand, released his hold on him, sending him falling flat on his butt on the office floor with an ungraceful thud.

This was easily one of the funniest things that Xeno had ever seen since waking up from the stone, and he had to turn his back to Gen to avoid the younger one seeing the almost uncharacteristic entertained grin on his face.

Stanley, however, was less worried, snickering softly as he searched his pockets for a lighter.

“Alright Mr. Gen. It is clear to me that you are not willing to provide any information at this time. You are dismissed.” Xeno, who still had his back turned to the two, waved his hand, indicating he was finished tormenting the captive spy as he walked towards his desk.

Gen, who was still a little hazy, stared at the scientist, then at the sniper who looked back at him quizzically, then at the door as if to ask why he hadn't booked it out of the office yet. The mentalist immediately understood and followed suit, bowing his head and running off into the hallway in a fluster.

“He's a strange one.” Stanley remarked, taking in a long drag of one of his beloved handcrafted cigarettes. Xeno looked over his shoulder with a grin.

“Indeed. I can't deny, strange as he is, he's a rather entertaining guest of ours. Perhaps I should keep this fact in the back of my mind for future reference.”

Despite being involved with such shady work in Yokohama's criminal underworld, he had been invited by Dazai to participate in the Armed Detective Agency's Christmas party as Dazai figured Akutagawa could use the social time. If it were anyone else extending such a generous invitation, Akutagawa would have likely told them to kick rocks. Dazai however… He had no choice but to accept, albeit hesitantly. That acceptance was likely soon to be withdrawn though. 

Staring angrily at the small pile of pathetically wrapped gifts, Akutagawa scowled, a growl of frustration escaping his lips. Large gaps in the wrapping paper exposed parts of the gift boxes, and the tape was barely hanging on (and don't even get his started about the ribbons). Oh how badly he wanted to release Rashomon to tear it all to shreds. 

The angry musing was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. “Shit!” Akutagawa cursed, freezing where he sat. If he was quiet enough, surely whoever was there would leave, assuming that nobody was home. Any sane person at least. 

He would be correct in that assumption. Unfortunately, it was becoming clear that the guest was not at all of the sane variety, evident by the sound of the lock being picked at. It's definitely Dazai! No! Not now!

With gritted teeth, Akutagawa rushed to the entryway, barely avoiding the door which swung open with ease, revealing a proud looking Dazai on the other side. 

“Ah, Akutagawa! You were here! Why didn't you just answer? That was rather rude, don't you think?” The former mafioso chided with a smile, sneakily slipping his lockpick back into the pocket of his trenchcoat. 

"Rude? What?! The rude one was you, seeing as you decided to break in! What do you want?!” Akutagawa snarled, trying his very best to look intimidating enough to make Dazai want to leave. He knew it wouldn't quite work on someone so oblivious, choosing to also block the entrance to his house strategically. 

“Aaanyways, what are you up to here that you're trying to keep me from seeing, hmm?” The brown haired man teased, attempting to look past Akutagawa who yelled out in annoyance. Damn… of course he of all people would know immediately what was going on. 

“None of your business! Don't you have better things to do? Go home!” A bead of sweat rolled down Akutagawa's forehead, knowing full well his cover was slowly being blown and Dazai, persistent and annoying as ever, would see the pile of shame in the middle of the floor. 

“Well now, that's not very nice! I came all this way to see you, Akutagawa! Surely I should be able to… persuade you to move?” A chill ran down Akutagawa's spine at those words, taking notice of the wiggly fingers in front of him. No! If he does that…

“Come any closer and I WILL end you.” Akutagawa threatened, his tough guy facade beginning to crack at the threat of a tickle attack. 

“Oh really? What makes you think that scares me? I haven't even succeeded at ending me yet!” Dazai's humorous tone was accompanied by the dead serious eyes of a mafioso who's locked in on his target. In his panic knowing what's coming, Akutagawa reached out in an attempt to squeeze Dazai's side, only to be immediately thwarted by Dazai gracefully smacking his hand away and taking him by the wrist, raising it over his head and using his free hand to skitter from Akutagawa's waist to underarm and back again, causing Akutagawa to simply crumble to the ground.

“Oh, you shouldn't have done that.” Dazai smirked, following Akutagawa down to the floor to continue the onslaught with 2 hands now. How very undignified. Reduced to a laughing mess thanks to Dazai. 

“DAHAHZAI QUIT IHIHIT! I SWEAR-” Akutagawa yelled through unexpectedly bubbly laughter. If he had the nerve to actually hurt Dazai, he may have avoided this pathetic situation entirely. 

“Silly Akutagawa, you know I can't understand what you're saying when you're laughing that hard! Calm down a bit and try again.” He nonchalantly chided as if he wasn’t the literal cause of the issue, using one hand to spider against Akutagawa's neck and the other to wreak havoc on his now exposed tummy. Oh, that condescending piece of- 

“I SWEHEAR ON MYHY LIFE THAHAT I WIHILL K-KIHIHILL YOU” Akutagawa threatened, though it didn't sound very convincing when he was rolling around on the floor laughing, kicking his legs in an attempt to get Dazai away from him. A particularly loud squeal following this definitely didn't help him be any more intimidating. 

“Funny that you haven't even tried. I would expect the mighty Akutagawa to have struck me down by now!” With a deep inhale, Dazai proceeded to blow the biggest possible raspberry he could on Akutagawa's tummy. Akutagawa simply roared with laughter, cheeks a warm shade of pink, sticking out like a sore thumb on his usually pale complexion. 

Withdrawing completely before he ended up pushing his luck too far, Dazai admired the scene before him with a small, self-satisfied snicker. He stood and proceeded to walk a little further into Akutagawa's living room only to freeze once he laid eyes on the sight in front of him. 

“Huh… Someone's been busy. Is this what you were hiding all this time, Akutagawa?” Dazai asked casually with the face of a confused puppy, as if he were oblivious to the fact that Akutagawa was still shaking with small giggles as he caught his breath on the floor.

“You ahahass…. I'm stihihill learherning…” Akutagawa covered his face in an almost uncharacteristically sheepish way, attempting to hide the embarrassment and giggles. 

Kneeling down, Dazai inspected the shoddy wrapping paper with a serious face. Definitely far from perfect, but not a bad start for someone who had never done something like this before. The main problem was the gaps caused by the wrapping paper being cut too short, but that could easily be remedied with a bit of guidance.

“You know, I'm not too bad at this kind of thing. Did you want a bit of help this time?” Dazai offered gently, much to the shock of the floored mafioso, who popped up into a sitting position immediately upon processing that information. 

“I… might need it.” Akutagawa frowned, only to yelp upon being poked in the side by Dazai, who wore a cartoonish smile. 

“Come on now, it's no big deal! I'm just saying it might even be more fun if we both did it!” Upon hearing that, Akutagawa's frown gave way to a soft genuine smile as he nodded quietly, grateful for this rare moment of comfort rather than the chaos of crime and fights. 

.

“Thank you, Dazai.” The aforementioned man grinned ear to ear, already stationed on the carpet with wrapping paper in hand. 

.

“Okay, now which gift is mine? Is it that big one?” 

“Yes my lord. That said, might I request you remain in the carriage for our first stop? Surely you would rather I handle our more… unusual associate? After all, we are in a bit of a rush.” Sebastian rose from his seat and looked over to Ciel for approval of his request, who nodded in agreement. 

“Do as you please. Frankly I'm not sure I want to deal with that weirdo myself anyways.” Ciel shuddered when he remembered the last time he had tried to entertain the Undertaker, which had ultimately and spectacularly failed. Perhaps he just wasn't meant to be a comic.

“Understood, Sire. I shall make haste.” Without another word, Sebastian gracefully stepped from the carriage and with only mild hesitation entered the Undertaker's shop. 

As if he had been waiting, the man watched from the hand carved mahogany coffin just a few feet away with a chuckle. 

“Oh my, just you today, Butler? I had imagined the young Earl would accompany you.” Undertaker grinned, emerging from his hiding place, curiosity written on the visible parts of his face trying to figure out the reasoning for this occurrence. Sebastien brushed off his overcoat and graciously accepted the glass beaker full of tea that Undertaker had just poured him. 

“Greetings, Undertaker. The Young Master is a tad preoccupied today, so I've come in his place. I would like to know if you have any information on the whereabouts of Philip Northcott.” Straight to the point as ever, Sebastian produced a list of the leads that he and his master had on the wanted man thus far, which Undertaker took and reviewed silently, another grin forming as he stroked his chin thoughtfully. 

“Hmm… This does sound quite familiar. I'm afraid I can't quite say for sure. Say, I do think that some glorious laughter may just jog my memory. What do you say, butler?” Undertaker set the list down beside him, tapping one long black nail against a table. 

“Of course. What sort of comedy do you request today? Possibly another limerick? Dare I say I'm confident this one should get a good laugh out of you.” Sebastian offered confidently, but raised an eyebrow as Undertaker shook his head. 

“Well, how about we switch things around a bit this time? Why don't you try laughing for me, Butler?” Sebastian looked shocked, not expecting this turn of events at all. He shook off the surprise and proceeded to laugh, albeit rather stiff and awkwardly. 

“That's all you got? Rather pathetic if you ask me.” Undertaker was amused, but clearly not amused enough to divulge even a small amount of information. 

“Well surely one doesn't just laugh sincerely on the spot if asked.” Sebastian retorted, knowing that what Undertaker was telling him was undeniable. 

“Perhaps you're right. I may have a solution in that case, if you'll be so inclined.” Undertaker’s smile only grew, a small flash of green showing from under his thick bangs that made Sebastian a bit nervous. What could he have planned?

“A Phantomhive butler who can't retrieve the information his master desires isn't worth his salt. That said, anything within reason I am willing to attempt.” Sebastian agreed, opening his eyes only to realize that the Undertaker who was once right in front of him was nowhere to be seen. What on earth? Where could he have gone that quick?

Sebastian's thoughts were cut off by the feeling of nails scribbling along the back of his neck on the accessible skin just before the collar of his shirt, which made him nearly jump out of his skin. 

“Well now isn't that a surprise! Somebody's a little ticklish, hm?” Undertaker lit up with glee at the discovery, much to Sebastian's dismay. As much as he wanted to escape the funny feeling and return to his master empty handed, he knew it wasn't an option. He would have to endure this torturous feeling for now for the good of the investigation. 

“A-Ahem! Is this how you intend to make me laugh?” Sebastian challenged, trying his best to keep his cool demeanor despite the sensations getting worse and worse, especially as Undertaker had chosen to switch from his neck to his torso, slipping skilled fingers under his waistcoat. 

“Surely seems to be working.” Undertaker replied nonchalantly, scratching away at Sebastian's sides, hoping for a reaction that it seemed he would soon get. The flood gates were breaking and Sebastian began to shake as he held back any and all laughter. He had never imagined that he would be at all ticklish, as he had very limited experience with the feeling, and had never been in a situation where he didn't have the choice of simply disappearing immediately. It didn't feel bad necessarily, but he was very close to letting out the most undignified sounding laughter possible. 

The moment that Undertaker hit a particularly sensitive area, Sebastian buckled over, unable to hold it in anymore, giggling in a way that he didn't even know he could. How very embarrassing indeed. He would have to make a point to scold the Undertaker for this humiliating display later. Said Undertaker still hadn’t had enough clearly, as he strategically pinpointed all of Sebastian's worst spots, making the laughter increase tenfold. 

“Ahah-! Ahahalrighihit! Thahahts's enohough!” Sebastian gave in, uncharacteristically smiling from ear to ear in a surprisingly cute manner for a demon. Undertaker couldn't help but chuckle himself, giving him a few more pokes and releasing the butler, who only barely caught himself with a hand on a coffin. 

“Ehehe! That was hilarious! Reminds me of my days with Lord Vincent back at Weston.” Undertaker reminisced, immediately taken out of his thoughts by an unimpressed looking Sebastian who was still recovering from the onslaught. 

“Oh right. Suppose it's only fair I tell you what I know now. Philip was the chap we wanted to know about, correct? He's gone on the run for his crimes, and is currently hiding out by the docks of east London, hoping to take off on the next cargo ship that comes in.” 

Sebastian stood straight up, still huffing a little from the torturous lingering tickly feeling, and gave a skeptical look to Undertaker. 

“That's all you know? Suppose it can't be helped. In that case, my young master and I should be off immediately.” Taking a moment to compose himself, Sebastian spun on his heel and headed towards the exit. 

“Oh, and for your information… If you mention what happened here today to anyone, I'll be more than happy to give you a taste of your own medicine, and it will NOT be merciful.” Sebastian threatened ever cheerful, only to get an entertained scoff from the white haired man a few feet away from him now. 

“You don’t scare me, Butler. Come back any time! I would love to hear that hysterical laugh of yours again soon.” Undertaker laughed, waving goodbye as Sebastian glared and shut the door behind him, proceeding to hop right back into the carriage. 

“There you are! What took you so long? You know we have a time limit, Sebastian!” Ciel scolded, annoyance only softening when he noticed the state his butler was in. Messy hair, wrinkled clothes, and an uncharacteristic pink blush across his otherwise pale cheeks. 

“Hold on, what the devil happened? You're looking rough.” 

Sebastian simply smiled vaguely, shaking his head as if to dismiss his master's curiosity. 

“It's nothing my lord. The Undertaker was simply… a little harder to impress this time around. You needn't worry yourself with it. Now, we must hurry to the docks.” Sebastian proceeded to knock on the top of the carriage, spurring the driver into motion. He didn't mention another word about the particularly silly situation he had gotten himself into, leaving one very confused Ciel.