In a craze for Suzaku, I wrote this thing. Inspired by 'Masquerade' by Hitomi, Code Geass BGM. For those who also enjoy SuzuLulu.
This is a masquerade
We are in a masquerade
Facing each other behind masks.
In this masked ball
Candles the colour of devils and angels, of summer and winter, of god and beast, mingles and intertwines perfectly.
Portraits hang lifelessly along the hall, insulting themselves with wasted paints and careless brushes of radiance. The faces all wear the same tragic smile and hazelnut-like eyes.
Carpet of a magnificent gold, walls dip in ivory and curtains bathe in the crimson colour of blood, all are welcoming the princes and princesses of the night.
People of the aristocratic world, people of the royal family, people of the government, people that are meant to rule, circle each other and create a big whirlpool of morality.
Masks of exotic feathers and glimmering gems, of shining gold and platinum, fill the room with the bizarre feeling of nobility.
Dresses and suits clamp around the body tight and puff at the base, the restraining corsets that fool the eyes of men, the bow ties that snake around the dukes' necks, fascinate the foolish pathetic eyes of the commoners with a scent from gold being shattered on the floor, clattering at people's feet.
Music rings in the ears, sounding like the requiem for someone that was forgotten, the oath that he made before he fell.
Somewhere in this crowd of face powder and satin and diamonds, there is one gem that shines above all. Somewhere in this crowd of ridiculous laughter is a voice so strong and proud. Somewhere in this suffocating room of death is a bud blossoming in the night.
Somewhere in this crowd, you are.
In this ball, there are countless dukes and duchesses, princes and princesses, nobles of all kind looking for a naïve sheep to court. In this ball, there are countless hungry eyes hiding behind the shadow of feathers and decorations.
One by one, as blurry shadows of glossy souls sweep away on the floor, giggling and whistling desperately, there is a pair of green eyes. Eyes that shine like forever emeralds. Eyes that are well-hidden behind a secured mask.
When you extend your hand and smile, "May I ask for a dance?", when we walk to the floor and dance among the crowd, elegant like fluttering butterflies, there is a tinge of nostalgia in your eyes.
As the party dies down and we stand in the garden, my hands find their ways up to your mask and take it off.
I see a grand shade of royal jade.
When you put your hands around my face, waiting for permission, I hold your hands in mine, "Let the mask stay my dear, if we still wish for eternity."
You lower your hands and I see stars in your eyes, sparkling like green sapphires.
Battlefield
We are on the battlefield
Aiming our weapons at each other.
On the battlefield
The monitor screen flashes on and off, sending light that casts on my mask, beeping signals of my knights goes on and off, the chamber fills with oil and steel.
The Knightmares stand around like guard dogs, show off fangs and claws. Their heavy figures stomp on the ground and send dust flying in the air, the clashing sound of weapon rudely wakes the night.
The sky is a glorious theme of fandango, the mixture of the night and blood. Stars refuse to show up and the city is covered in an eye-sore of reflecting flashlights.
Plans of actions run like a swarm, taking all over the mind. Percentage of success dances in the eyes like buzzing bugs. Everyone's voice is like a wrongly-tuned choir that never stops.
In the army there are thousands of soldiers, but to one only that the world will change for. At base there are hundreds of Knightmares, but only one will come to an end according to fate. In the plan, there are millions of ways to deal with things, but only one path can be chosen.
Of all things, it must be you facing off with me tonight.
You come like every other times, fighting with us like any other times, your skills sharpened a little bit more after every encounter. You dash into the sky like a sparrow, dive down like a hawk, fight like a real soldier of which title doesn't suit you one bit. You dance so gracefully in the air, on the ground, sending the earth crumbling under your clash.
As you emerge from the back chamber, I see fire raging in those eyes of determination.
When we run away from the battlefield, image of your eyes burns into the depth of my cornea like a curse.
It is as if I took off your shield, but you couldn't tear off mine.
In the end, I am just running away from another masquerade.
Before the sun rises, you pull me close and whisper in my ears,
"Hey, if we were at a masquerade again, would you let me take off your mask?"
It sounds like the beg of death
"Let it stay, if we still wish for eternity."
"What if we cease to exist before eternity comes, Lelouch?"
"Then let it be that way. You are too dangerous of a man to make me let my guard down anyway."
"The words from the mastermind, what an honour!"
"I am being serious. And by the way, let me tell you what the Zero Requiem really is about…"
When I cease to exist, you will find a piece of paper in my room.
It is the invitation to our masquerade.