LONDON, 2010
He woke. Five-twenty-three, as usual. For seven minutes (or perhaps, if he had lain in, a mere six and a quarter), Lelouch vi Britannia stared at the plain, off-white ceiling. In those few moments of time his blue-near-violet eyes traced a crack in the plaster, noting as he always did that he ought to smear it over to make the room pristine. Naturally, that never happened- the hollow ceiling vein had become a part of his existence here, just as every other routine had; if it was gone, what would there be to occupy this moment of waking?
At five-thirty the alarm went. He let it ring out twice before reaching over with long spider-like fingers to press the thing into silence.
His seven minutes were up- the ridiculously thin slice of each twenty-four hour day that he permitted himself to be the man he had been born. But now, signalled in by a boring clock with a tone that never failed to make him feel physically sick, the mask came on and he became Lelouch Lamperouge, MI5 agent. A British Spy.
Within the next quarter hour he had made his bed and gone in to shower, and shave if it was necessary. In the ten minutes following he dressed for the day, pocketed his phone and moved down stairs in to the open kitchen. There was a television in there, which he turned on, awaiting the early morning news at six, as he poured himself a bowl of muesli, cut up an apple and made coffee. As the news theme rang in, and the headlines were spoken, he ate the apple slices, including the pips. The seeds, he knew, contained trace amounts of cyanide, and some part of his mind had tricked itself into believing that if he ate them every day, his body would build at least a minor immunity to the poison. Just in case.
It was for this same reason that he would take a handful of bitter almonds to snack on until lunch, as he did each and every day.
No one could deny that Lelouch was a man made by routine.
"Reporting from the scene, Camilla Ashford…"
Lelouch looked up to the screen, to see a young woman- an old school friend, by chance- reporting from the Russian Embassy. The recent suggestions stated that in order to create peace between China and Russia, that the Russian Prince was to marry the underage daughter of the Chinese President. This, amongst Russians and Chinamen, was hardly a topic of controversy, but here in Britain it was not done.
"You never used to be so serious, Pres," he thought aloud, "I guess there was no room for your optimistic outlook in a world like this….you and Nunnally had more in common than I could ever have imagined."
The spoken flow of words was cut short of further self-indulgence, as Nunnally's carer entered the kitchen, her green silk dress robe giving her an image of elegance that didn't quite befit her true nature. No, Lelouch had always thought that Shirley was far too organic to be elegant. Instead, she was kind, good-natured and naturally loving. There was no show. No effort.
"Good morning, Lulu." Her smile was soft as dawn.
"Good morning, Shirley. Did you sleep well?"
"Pretty much. Nunnally had a nightmare so I was up for that, but she was really tired and fell asleep right away." And perhaps his self-loathing at not having been there himself to hold his sister's hand showed, because she added: "Oh, it was nothing too bad. And she was fine once she knew you were home safe."
Lelouch gave a nod, crunching on his slowly soddening cereal, and chewing away his protective flares. Whatever he felt, it was in doing his job- in going away into the heat of danger as he did daily- that would ensure a better world for his little sister. In that future, she would be scared of nothing, and there would be no cause for nightmares.
"Will you be back late again, tonight?"
"I couldn't say," he admitted, and pushed his half-eaten bowl aside. "There's….some changes going on that might mean I will have to work longer hours. But if I can work from home then I will, and I'm more than capable of working fast and efficiently. It will be based upon the efforts of my colleagues, rather than mine."
It appeared that Shirley was interested, probably because there was so little that she was permitted to know regarding Lelouch's occupation. She knew who he worked for, what it could potentially entail, and what it meant for her own security. But aside from that, her knowledge was limited. "Well, just make sure you come back, okay? No running off to gamble on chess games."
Lelouch gave a huff of laughter and then drained the rest of his coffee. He didn't have to be in until eight, but given the probationary promotion, he intended to go in early, if only on the off-chance that it might mean he could come home in daylight. "Call me if you need me, alright? And could you pick up some more apples? I'm almost out."
And before Shirley could affirm or deny the instructions, or reprimand him for not promising her he wouldn't run off somewhere when he should be here, Lelouch was gone from the kitchen.