Disclaimer: Code Geass owned by Sunrise


The hiss of a door closing was followed by the sound of footsteps.

Lelouch Lamperouge walked the corridors of Ashford Academy's clubhouse in this late hour. He just bade his younger sister, Nunnally, good night, and was on his way to his own room. He, however, would not be going to bed right away; there was still work to be done.

Indeed, tomorrow was the day when the Black Knights - a terrorist group hailed as defenders of justice by the natives of Area 11 - would be springing General Kyoshiro Toudou from maximum security prison. Making it happen would be considered a miracle. Well, that was to be expected of Zero, right? A miracle worker rescuing a fellow miracle worker. Yes. To pull this rescue off wouls better establish the Black Knights into the hearts of the Elevens - no, the Japanese. All the conditions have been cleared. The plan can go without a hitch.

As long as that white knightmare didn't get in the way.

He ran a hand through his hair and frowned. This would be the last time the Lancelot - the knightmare frame that seemed to exist to thwart even his best-laid plans - would get in his way. He already managed to notice that there was a pattern to its movements. Tonight he would be able to identify it. Tomorrow he would finally win against its pilot. No one stayed undefeated against Lelouch vi Britannia!

The door to his room opened, and he was reminded of a second reason why he would not be able to go to bed. Or, more accurately, why he wouldn't be able to go to his bed - a large mozzarella-colored plush mascot, and the green-haired immortal witch hugging it were occupying the furniture in question.

He glared.

She stared.

Greetings having been exchanged thus, Lelouch walked to his desk to the computer where he would be working. Another viewing or two of the simulations of the Lancelot's movements and he would be able to predict them the next time they meet.

His work was interrupted by the feeling of being watched. Looking over his shoulder towards his bed, he saw C.C. still staring at him. He didn't know why, but he had the impression that she hadn't blinked once since he entered the room.

He stared back.

Why, though? So he could see if she would eventually blink? So he could know if he himself could stare without blinking in the same amount of time? No, he didn't have that much time in his hands. He needed to predict the Lancelot's movements perfectly tonight. That, he can't do while she was staring at him like this.

A minute passed.

Two.

He closed his eyes in annoyance. He couldn't take it anymore! He ground his teeth, took a deep breath, took all that was left of his willpower to not shout out his question-

"Lelouch."

She beat him to it.

He released the angry breath he had been holding and quickly regained his composure.

"What?"

C.C. tilted her head a little to the side. "Has anyone told you who you took after?"

Lelouch raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she replied as she adjusted her chin over Cheese-kun's head, "has anyone told you that you looked especially like one of your parents? Or a relative, maybe, when you were little?"

"No," and that was the truth. Having answered her question he returned to his work. Or, at least, he tried to.

"Really? And you never wondered yourself?"

He did not have time for this! "Go figure it out yourself. I'm busy." The witch was not so easily dissuaded.

"I did, and still am trying to." She moved her hands to the mascot's arms before continuing. "I mean, you clearly got your face's bone structure from your mother. Your eyes you got from your father. Your slender physique I can easily spot from the rest of your half-brothers. But..."

"But...?" He slapped himself mentally. He just had to fall for it. But one look at C.C.'s clearly perplexed face made him wonder what she was thinking.

"Your hair," she said after a long pause, so slowly as if she was not quite sure herself.

"What about it?"

"It's... wrong."

He raised an eyebrow at that. How could the hair a person was born with be "wrong"? He snorted at the thought.

"Really, now? And how, pray tell, could my hair be 'wrong'?" She got him curious. Lancelot could wait.

"It's straight," she answered, as if it explained everything.

"Your mother's hair was dark, but it fell in waves. Your father's hair is much like Nunnally's under that wig. Heck, even the rest of your siblings have his or her hair curling one way or another."

That was a thought. Odysseus had that spit curl. Schneizel's clearly had its waves. Clovis had his flowing similarly like Cornelia's...

"Euphy has straight hair," he replied, albeit more defensive than intended.

"Nope. Her bangs won't curl at the ends like that if she's a natural," replied the witch. "Besides, she has those two locks that curl like a spring near the ends."

"And this is important...why?" He really should get back to work.

She paused, expression blank, but with eyes clearly laughing.

At him.

"Oh, nothing. I just got bored of sitting here all day and I just had to ask. Good night, Lelouch," she replied, promptly lying on her side and turning away from him.

Lelouch frowned and returned to his work. His hands flew over his computer's keyboard, his eyes watched the Lancelot's movements closely, his thoughts elsewhere.

So what if I have straight hair? Mother's probably won't curl until it reached a certain length. Even if it did, I probably inherited it from her parents. Being commoners, CC couldn't have known about them or how they looked like. And that bit about the Emperor's hair falling in waves like Nunnally's? Heh. That had to be the silliest thing I ever...

He stopped, catching himself holding a lock of his hair, examining it.

"...Witch."

.


Author's note: I had this story started weeks before Guenevere and Carline were introduced, and, the story being set in the first season, completely disregarded their existence.

Date last edited: 2009/10/14