The Gentle World
By Himig
Summary: Everyone was quiet. Princess Euphemia and Zero had reappeared on stage after five minutes. As they approached the center stage, bringing good news for all, Zero was shot—dead.
Author's Note: Story's been sleeping in the computer. I revived it and now here it is. I know the latter part sucks :P
Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass.
Warning: Plenty of philosophies and reality so don't dream too much.
The Gentle World
Stage 1: The Death of Zero
"…It's been several months since Zero died from a mysterious gunshot. Millions of witnesses, from the audience and viewers, heard no gunshot. There was complete silence as Princess Eup—excuse me, Euphemia, former princess of Britannia, and Zero approached the center stage…"
"…Experts confirmed of no gunshots from investigation of the recorded tapes. Euphemia was cleared from suspicions for clear evidence that Zero was still alive seconds before the gunshot in their reappearance…"
"…Revolts that started since Zero's death continue violently all over Area 11. The Order of Black Knights have made little move since Zero's death. Have their leader's death stirred confusion in the Order? Would the Black Knights seek revenge, or continue to fight and to join these revolts…"
The Governor-General of Area 11 shut off the large plasma television. Her ill patience could not tolerate the news flashing by every channel. She pushed her back against the back of the seat followed by the crossing of her legs.
"Princess," her knight called, partly concern of the rage festering inside of her.
"They make it sound as if a hero died!" she growled. "He's a terrorist!" Her curled fist came in contact with the wall with a bang. "…and Euphie…Euphie, she…!"
How her sister could have done this? The princess was angry at her sister. This anger would fleet soon out of her genuine love for her, but she let it surface and bubble dangerously in her face. The warrior-princess doesn't know what to do with her sister anymore, but she will do something…somehow, definitely.
What angered her more was her brother's approval. Her brother knew she was in charge of this Area. Regardless of his intellect and political status, her decisions are what matters. Euphemia thought of simply getting through her nose and ask their brother's approval though. Prince Shcneizel hadn't said anything about the matter, but Cornelia felt like he wasn't going to rise too soon. He wasn't responsible after all. Cornelia was, Princess Cornelia.
The screen hanging above the television lit up. The beep sound alerted the princess and her knight of the call.
"Princess, there was suicidal bombing at Shinjuku!" the voice said with other beeping and ringing from the computers in the background.
Cornelia shot up from her seat. "What?"
"They aren't the Black Knights, Princess."
"More terrorists," she snarled. "Guilford!"
The princess made her way, followed by her loyal knight.
Her pale, newly-scratched, inexperienced hands throbbed and shook. She clenched on a handkerchief to ease the pain. It felt painful. She dug her hands close to her stomach and curled her chin to her knees. She sat on the corner of the abandoned, broken house in Shinjuku Ghetto.
A shadow appeared by the door. The light was blocked by the young man. He entered. Bits of his appearance were revealed through the light that sieved through the broken windows. He approached the pink-haired girl at the corner.
"Euphie," he called gently. On his hand was a hot cup of bitter tea, one that Euphemia didn't really like, but she needed it. Euphemia smelled the familiar scent, but she raised her head for the familiar voice.
"Suzaku," she said, smiling. Her hands were still buried in her red shirt. Euphemia's face glittered with her smile despite her dirty face. Her hair was tied in a single, high ponytail, but her curled bangs partly covered her forehead. Even though her clothes were no longer full of fashionable cloth, she still looked like a princess as ever.
Suzaku smiled back. It looked like she was fine. He approached her, knelt down and offered her carefully the hot cup. Suzaku watched her look bitterly at the drink. She blew it a couple of times and drunk it in three separate, heavy gulps. She was revolted, pulling out her tongue as she shivered from the bitter taste.
"Thank you, Suzaku," she said, handing him back the empty cup.
"Euphie, you should leave this to me…"
The former princess only returned his concerned look with a smile. Even though Suzaku was wearing green visors, she can still see through it to see his green eyes.
"No, the leader has to make the first move, or no one will follow."
This was an odd comment from Euphemia. She sensed this by Suzaku's reaction. "That doesn't sound like you…" He was alarmed by his own words, realizing what he said. "I-I mean, saying something…enigmatic like that!"
Euphemia giggled. "I know. I got it from someone…well, I think I did."
Suzaku stood up and pulled Euphemia up. Euphemia flinched upon contact on her scratched hands, but she moved her legs quick enough to cover it up. This wasn't good enough to fool Suzaku though.
"Euphie!" he said, alarmed. He took the initiative to pull her hands out. Even if she was still a princess, he would do the same. Suzaku's concern for Euphemia was simply on a different level.
"It's nothing serious!"
Suzaku checked again and again. She was right. Her hands were actually quite okay. It was bleeding on a few parts, but they were scratches. They were reddish too, but Euphemia rarely did any handwork, so her hands were still new at this. His concern didn't disappear though.
"You shouldn't overdo yourself," he told her.
Euphemia glared softly at the floor. "I'm not overdoing myself," she said quietly. Her head turned. "Yet, I'm already…" Euphemia's eyes narrowed determinedly, looking at Suzaku. "Suzaku, don't insult me! I have yet to reach my limit!"
Suzaku was taken aback, but not too long. He smiled, nodding. Euphemia's tough glare melted, smiling awkwardly.
"It doesn't suit me, does it?"
Suzaku shook his head, trying not to laugh. "No, no! It does."
Euphemia laughed. "You're not taking me seriously!"
"I am!" he defended, laughing.
"You're laughing!"
But both of them had laughed already and no one had a complaint about it. The only exception was perhaps the newcomer. His voice surprised them because his footsteps were so quiet.
"Princess, it's time."
The two were silenced, looking at the young, skinny boy. He wore a student's uniform, bearing the emblem of Ashford. Suzaku seemed to be displeased with the coming of the boy, not for the reason of being disturbed.
"I'm no longer a princess. Just call me 'Euphie'," Euphemia said to him with dripping patience. She wasn't at all annoyed by the boy like how Suzaku was quietly so. She left Suzaku's side, coming close to him. "Shouldn't you be in school?"
The boy's apathetic eyes were the same in the tone of his voice. "That isn't a problem. I told the president I had to leave early in advance."
"That isn't really what I mean…" Euphemia answered, trying to smile. She sometimes felt bad for this boy, as if he was used to this sort of thing. "You should be in school, studying and finding cute girls to date."
Suzaku was amused by Euphemia's statement, unable to hide his smile as he looked at her. He was probably more amused for the fact the boy couldn't answer. Euphemia spared him though with a nod. It was time to get going.
"You can go back to your school now," Euphemia said. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be in a place like this."
The former princess disappeared, leaving only two young men in the abandoned house. The young boy's violet eyes followed Euphemia until she left. Suzaku was glaring at him. Unable to pretend anymore, the boy acknowledged him with his own glare.
"Euphemia will need your help, Kururugi."
Suzaku didn't respond. He left, passing by without any words. He can feel those eyes following him as well as he followed Euphemia.
Suzaku's eyes were rimmed with red for a split second.
He didn't trust Rolo Haliburton at all.
No man can serve two masters, yet the small country known as Area 11 carry with it two banners, two names, and two people. One was the flag of the proud Holy Empire of Britannia, a ferocious dragon and a cunning serpent in constant scuffle to be superior, one that lives through the empire's code that have ceased stagnation. The other flag is the equally proud Japan whose strength and unity have brought its name as one of the greatest country known.
The island was known as Area 11 and Japan. In it are the Britannians and the Japanese.
A small country with two masters and a single figure who seek to create understanding through the growing hegemony of the races. Though equality is especially served for once-known Elevens, the hegemony still exists, whether a Japanese is rich or poor, the Japanese has its own system of who is below and who is above. And there is the system of the Britannians, the system the Japanese refuse to be absorbed in.
The hegemony only thickens in the thin ice. The debt on the smiles of the Japanese is overdue. The time will come when the price to be paid may bring new tears. Very few are exactly ready, no matter how indifferent they are to the situation. The wound Zero left – the man of miracles and justice – is still fresh.
If only Zero were still alive.
"You're just like Clovis."
She gasped at the abrupt subject about Clovis. She knew very well that her brother killed him. She had forgiven him in his heart, but the name created a whirl of confusion. Clovis? And she knew there was a gun on his hand, offered to her to shoot him.
"Everything is perfectly clear now," he continued. If it were perfectly clear, it certainly didn't show on Euphemia's face.
"Zero will die, then miraculously reborn. The people will love him for it. People are most susceptible to miracles, not logic, you see."
He nudged the gun forward. It slightly clicked, making its presence in the dark room known, telling her to take it around her fingers, to check if she doubted what it was. Then a thought would stir in her head, just like what he thought – then point it at him.
"Now…take it."
If those were true, if his ideas were true, it certainly didn't show on Euphemia's face.
"Huh?"
"There can only be one Messiah. When they see that you're a fake, the people will—"
"The Eleven's getting beaten up pretty badly…"
Lelouch Lamperouge looked at the said Eleven. He knew the man on his knees was an Eleven, though figures surrounded the person like towers. He stared at scene blankly, hearing haunting ushering from the Britannian crowd that refused to raise a finger and point at the brutal battering.
"How sad. I really enjoyed the Eleven's sweets. And they were awfully cheap, too…"
"He's so young, too. That's too bad…"
An electricity tickled Lelouch's nerves as each word whispered airily in his head and his eyes refusing to look away from the reality.
Weak, powerless, useless.
"A DEAD MAN HAS NO RIGHTS!"
He stared at the Eleven, hearing the haunting murmurs.
These Britannians…disgust him!
The man felt agony pierced in his eye, a knee dropping to the ground.
"Lelouch!"
At the instant she came close and knelt down in worry, he shoved her away.
"STOP IT!" he roared. "Don't you dare cast your pity on me!"
Her eyes followed him as he stood up in his own power, a gloved hand on his left eye. She remained sat down, somehow stunned.
"I don't need your charity!"
Euphemia stared at the face contorted of unbridled anger.
"What should we do?"
Lelouch Lamperouge looked at the subject of trivial matter. An Eleven.
"He should have just stayed quiet…"
"Yea, and now he's getting beaten up."
Murmurs from strangers blew through his mind as the scene played in front of his face, the reality.
"How sad."
"WHO PROVIDED YOU WITH THE CLOTHES YOU WEAR, THE ROOF YOU LIVED UNDER, OR THE FOOD YOU EAT?"
These Britannians…
"I will make it happen on my own! To that end, you will be my Pilate!"
The gloved hand left and a red glow sparked on the left eye.
"EUPHEMIA DE BRITANNIA!"
Prince Lelouch vi Britannia.
The murmurs spoke.
"He's doing very well considering his mother just died."
"And his sister was crippled and blind too."
"She was of no use in politics, anyway…"
"But his mother was just a commoner."
"Shh, we should keep quiet. He's already trying his best."
The murmurs laughed.
"I have relinquished that name," she quickly stated. Seeing that Lelouch was surprised, she gathered her strength. She stood up and remained strong and formal, her princess appearance genuine.
Euphemia didn't know what has been haunting Lelouch, but she couldn't question him right now. She needed him, and so does Japan.
Her resolve has to be strong, no matter how much it pains her to know of her ignorance of the seven years that Lelouch suffered.
"I expect the mainland will announce it shortly," she said. "but I have given up my right to succeed the throne."
He was stunned. His face was with confusion…and pain. It was difficult for him to understand, but there was something in his gut that tells him he has an idea, a strange intuition, that he feared would crush him.
"Why?" he asked, holding his breath. "Because you've accepted Zero into your heart?"
She lightened up to a smile. "I made you participate in my little endeavor, so surely…you expect something in return."
It showed that he have seen something. His eyelids stretched, revealing more to her how much he realized. Emotions not from his anger broke up, but an expert in the field, he stowed them away. He shrugged the mistake in his face by looking away, calmly replying.
"You gave it up so easily. Did you do it for me?" His voice dripped with a thought that raised an objection or doubt, something Zero would do.
Then she giggled.
"You're self-centered, as always," she commented. Her smile just broke out. She'd chide herself later for reminiscing now of all times. "I did it for Nunally."
Euphemia turned around, now recalling how she now stands here and the reason for her resolve. The floor was marble. Her eyes found them interesting as she told him of the thoughts in her heart.
"She told me that if she could be with her brother, that was all she needed."
On that faithful day, she could have welcomed them both back to the homeland. Schneizal would be glad, and so would Cornelia. There would be so many things to tell to each other and surely, those days spent would spare a time for a chess match between her brothers. Her heart fluttered excitedly, but Nunally…
"That's why?" he asked ridiculously.
But Nunally didn't need any of bits of the precious past. Surely she wanted to meet Schneizel, Cornelia, and she wanted to meet Euphemia again. But the times in the past weren't what she sought. She'd give those up, those sweet innocent times, for him.
"That's what made up my mind," she answered, turning to him again. It seems strange, strange enough to make the genius man frown in confusion.
"I asked myself what is really important in this world. Lelouch, I haven't given up anything that I really, truly treasured – ah, don't worry. I haven't told anyone about you…"
He broke to a smile.
"Hmph…haha! And Cornelia?"
"Well, it's not like we'll never see each other."
"You're such an idiot."
Euphemia's eyebrows dropped a fraction.
"A moron," he went on.
Slowly, her forehead creased, but she knew what he said was true. He has every right to. In shame, she brought her head down. What was she supposed to say now? She thought it was fine to be a bit open with feelings than logic. Euphemia knew logic was his language and her words about her heartfelt emotions were something like a funny joke.
"Well, I've never managed to beat you at study or at play, but…"
"Well, it's not exactly how I envisioned it, but I really would have gotten all I want."
Euphemia held his breath. This was a new direction she saw. Finally, he looked at her – with a gentle smile.
"When I think about it, you were Euphie long before you were Deputy Vicereine or the Third Princess."
He…was acknowledging her.
"If I'm just regular old Euphie," she said as calmly as she could. "will you help me?"
Euphemia offered a hand – one which he frowned about. Her heart continued to beat rapidly. She doubted herself, but there were many hopes on her. She has to believe. Moreover, she needs to believe in him.
The Special Administrative Zone must…
"You were my most worthy opponent."
She felt the gloved hand squeezed her hand.
"You win."
Then Euphemia didn't realize just how far she leapt that to see the new land on the other side surprised her like a vague silhouette in her dreams reintroducing himself.
"We'll work out a way to make this Special Administrative Zone of yours work," he said with a strong and stern voice, but Euphemia only felt warmth in her.
"And no," he added. "I won't be a subordinate."
"Of course not!" she answered, letting out a girly squeal. She held onto the hand hang in mid-air with both her hands and held it tightly and securely in a ball as if a fragile fairy of hope slept inside. "Thank you…thank you, Lelouch…thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you…thank…you, Lelouch. Thank you…"
Lelouch was caught surprised, though he expected nothing less of Euphemia, whose eyes glittered with sparkly tears. "Euphie, we can't have you announce something as important as this in tears," he said gently with a touch of humor.
"I'm sorry," she apologized with a chuckle, sniffing softly and drying immediately her tears.
"Here," he said, offering a rather girly handkerchief, a palm-size white cloth with rosy, pink borders.
She thanked him, accepting it, and keeping the handkerchief clutched tightly by her fingers. With a nod and a refined posture returning to the princess' composture, Lelouch followed her lead. He carried the mask that was strangely lighter and put it on his head once more. He thought the air inside the mask created breeze from the salty seas. The light outside beaconed them to come and a new day greeted them.
"Lelouch," Lelouch heard Euphemia whisper. She appeared brighter with a smile and saw the hand on her side raised towards him.
"Erm…won't they get a strange idea?" But even though he said that, he held onto that hand and they walked together to face the people.
Everyone was quiet. Princess Euphemia and Zero had reappeared on stage after five minutes. As they approached the center stage, bringing good news for all, Euphemia felt the hand heavier and suddenly out of grasp. The fairy of hope did not glow from inside their cupped hands as it vanished as if it was never there. The gap between the two hands widened and the handkerchief she clutched dropped like a leaf to the ground.
There was a thud from a bulk that dropped and a chorus of screams and gasps. Euphemia turned to her side, suddenly lost in the new land she stepped in.
Zero was shot – dead.