Prologue: The Girl with His Eyes
A man scrambled through the dark passage, his barefoot getting caught on the jagged grooves and edges poking out of the uneven cement of the tunnel floor. He was sent sprawling to the ground, hands and knees scrapping against the ground with an agonizing sting, when he tripped for what felt like the millionth gritted his teeth and pushed himself shakily up off the cold damp concrete.
He continued to run at an even pace, but was beginning to feel run down as he kept tripping and stumbling through the darkness. He groaned, picking himself back up out of a puddle of chilling water that he had fallen into. He tried to shake the water off after getting up; also trying to shake off the slight dizziness he was feeling.
His collection of cuts and bruises were gradually growing and exhaustion was finally starting to take its toll. He came to a much-needed stop and leaned against the inner wall of the tunnel, sliding down it until he reached the floor. He was breathing heavily and if he could see anything he was sure that he would've been able to see his breath.
His breathing eventually slowed, and at that point he was honestly considering giving up. He thought about how easy it would be to just give up; he had been struggling for far too long. He lulled his head to the side, his eyes half-lidded as he felt the need to rest taking over, and then he suddenly saw something. He jerked his head up at something that looked, to him, like freedom. He got up, put his weight heavily on the wall and inched closer to the glimpse of hope that he was seeing. He brought himself up to the light, it was just a crack in the wall, but it was the first sign of hope he'd seen. It wasn't exactly the light at the end of the tunnel he had been hoping for, merely a sliver of light peeking through, but it was worth something. He approached the crack fully, squinting as he tried to peer through it.
The piercing sunlight made his eyes burn from not being exposed to it for so long, and the only thing he could see through it was the blinding light. For the first time he felt something, something similar to a feeling of longing. He finally sighed and turned away, rubbing his eyes, but when he opened them again there was something that flashed through them. Conviction and newfound determination were the only emotions that showed in his eyes, the rest of his face blank and expressionless, as he had learned to wear it. His deep purple eyes narrowed with that newfound emotion, quickly coming to the decision that he couldn't give up, he had to keep going. He couldn't give up, not yet, not after he had struggled so much to get to that point. Not when he still had a reason to live, something to strive for.
It had been a little more than two hours since he had started down the seemingly never-ending passage. By then, they must have realized that he had escaped That was about the time that they would come get him, at least according to the twisting in his stomach and to what seemed to be an internal clock that he had developed after being used to being in the dark for so long.
From the faint splashing in the distance and the small voices he could hear, they must have already started the search. He wasn't surprised that they had already started searching the tunnel; he was actually impressed that they had begun searching the place already. He thought he had more time before he would have to speed up the pace. The head start he had would help, but they had flashlights and wouldn't be stumbling through the darkness not to mention their physicality was probably better than his. So he pressed his hand against the wall and began to speed up, trying to watch his feet the best he could as not to fall again. He lurched forward, when his foot hooked under something hard and rough, pushing himself harder against the wall to keep him upright and to suppress a whimper. He just had to ignore the throbbing in his foot and continue on.
He had to keep the hope that seeing the light had given him, keep it close to his heart, and then very soon he would be out and free, something he hadn't even dreamt of since he was ten. The first year of him being there he had been so hopeful… But he had learned not to hope and dream of something so impossible. He had learned the hard way that no one would come for him that no one cared about his existence; he was no one important after all. He was just a lost soul with no memory of his past, just a slave. Eventually he had realized that if he were to ever even come close to getting what he wanted, he would have to achieve it himself. He could only rely on himself to get out of the situation he was in. He had to work for that freedom that he hadn't had since he was nine. And he had worked for it and he had gotten it. Or almost gotten it, this was the closest he had ever gotten to that freedom he hadn't seen in since he was brought there at the age of nine. He didn't even know how long he'd been there. There was no way to count the days because it was always dark and there was no way of telling the date. No one ever told him. But for some reason that day he left had felt right, and special. It was his day to run and achieve that freedom; at least he hoped he'd be able to achieve it.
He shook his head, almost as if he was trying to shake his thoughts out of his mind; he had to focus on getting out and to stop just thinking about it. He restricted his thoughts to only those of moving forward and the faint sound of running water coming from ahead of him and the sounds of footsteps sounding closer than they were just moments before. He had known that there was water flowing in the tunnel, but there was nothing that had sounded close to something like a waterfall in the passage as that sound did.
He tried to pick up the pace, the sound of his heart thumping loud in his ears, the constant reminder that he was alive and that he had to keep going. He'd make it to that light at the end of the tunnel, he was sure of it. The image of that girl flickered through his thoughts. He smiled a little, without realizing it, and kept the picture in his mind. He had this strange fondness for the girl that he wasn't sure was a vague memory or just someone that only appeared in his dreams. In his heart he knew he had to get out and find her, he had to survive to be able to find out if she actually exists or not… He would continue to the best of his minuscule abilities.
He was brought out of his thoughts suddenly as he felt his foot not land on anything, just swinging in midair before he began to tumble over the edge. He let out a horrified squawk as he fell over the cliff-like edge of the cement path that went alongside the water flowing in through the tunnel. He clinched his eyes shut and waited for whatever he was about to impact, to hit him. He landed in water, the first thing he felt being the searing sting of the cold all over his body. He hadn't expected to land in the water, so he swallowed a lot of it and felt his shin hit hard against the bottom of the concrete tunnel. He let out a shout of pain, muffled by the water that flowed into his nose and continually down his throat. He began to quickly swing his arms and kick his legs frantically to pull himself to the surface of the water. He choked and coughed up the liquid, inhaling large gulps of air, catching his breath and realizing that he was struggling to keep above water with the surprisingly strong current of it.
The fight for breath continued as the water splattered in his face. He tried to keep himself up the best he could with his worn out limbs and injured leg, the water dunked him back under once again. He had held his breath that time, and pushed off the bottom of tunnel with one leg as best as he could. He could blearily see beams of light from behind him when he arrived above the water, realizing that they had caught up to him. So he complied with the current and dove back under, trying his best to swim along with the flow and away from the lights, hoping they wouldn't notice him. He'd rather drown than get caught and have to go back there…
He kept swimming as long as he could before pushing to the surface once again, his soaked black hair sticking to his face as he took in as much air as possible before putting his energy into swimming again. He plunged back into the water once again; when he noticed the lights reflecting off the top of the water a little too close for comfort. He swam as hard as he could with his low energy, until he ran into a hard wall, scratching his fingers and palms along it before using the steadiness to bring him up from underneath the water.
He felt a moment of panic; the tunnel couldn't just end. He would have nowhere to run and he would be captured again and forced back. Fear gripped his body as he desperately searched for something that would help him, and then he suddenly realized the strong pull on the bottom half of his legs. He was hopeful, so he took a deep breath before going back under to get a look at what it was. His eyes burned, as he looked around in the water. He soon realized that the water flowed through a smaller hole, definitely something he wouldn't be able to swim through. He used the wall to rise back up once again and looked around as soon as the burning and blurriness faded away. He didn't want to be caught and dragged back only to be severely punished for trying to run away. He shuddered, partially from the mental image that the thought brought on and from the frigidness of the water. He hadn't really noticed how bone chilling the water was because of the adrenaline rush he had gotten from fearing for his life, but now it was coming at him at full body freezing force.
Now that his eyes were more adjusted, he noticed that the path alongside the flow of water had started again, or it had never ended and he had just conveniently fallen into the water instead of onto the path. Then he saw that there was a ladder against the wall, and just the slightest bit of light shining down from it. He could actually see semi-decently in the tunnel because of it. He swam eagerly over to the edge of the path and scrambled out of the water, wincing at the pain from his hands and from his leg. He swayed as he got up, steadying himself on the nearest solid object. He shivered when he felt the full force of the frosty air hit the entirety of his sopping wet body.
He stepped lightly towards the ladder, having to watch his feet since they were almost numb. He was trembling violently, and dreading that he would have to remove his hands that were wrapped around himself for warmth, to ascend the ladder. He rubbed his hands up and down his arms one last time before bringing his quivering fingers up to grasp one of he icy metal bars that led up the wall.
He was slow-moving at first, climbing the ladder shakily, and feeling like the column of bars were never going to go on forever. He was nearing the top when he felt something wrap around his ankle and pull. He slammed back against the rigid path, his head hanging just above the water. He felt pain shoot up his spine, and he bit his lip to keep himself from making any noise. They loved it when he made noises and he was not about to give them the satisfaction of hearing him in agony. He cursed under his breath, and leaned up on his forearms to glare at them. He couldn't believe he didn't hear them coming in the echoing sewer. How could he have missed them? There was three men, all of them sneering down at him. He bit back a scathing remark and waited for what they were going to do.
The first thing they did was kicking him roughly in the side. He clenched his jaw, keeping quiet and holding his side in pain.
"Thought you could get away from us, huh Lelouch?" the man who kicked him chuckled menacingly and kicked him again in the stomach with the full power of his leg.
Lelouch opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out but a sharp intake of breath. He wheezed and writhed on the ground in misery. He clutched at his necklace underneath his ripped and dirty, old shirt. He could feel the outline of the letter "L" through the cloth, his only remembrance of his past and the only thing keeping him grounded. He was pretty sure he would've gone insane or completely numb of emotion a long time ago if it wasn't for that necklace.
He smirked, looking at them with a spiteful stare and saying, "Oh, I didn't just 'think' it, I did it. I will do it." With that, he stopped the obnoxious men mid-laughter when he swung his uninjured leg, causing one of the men to fall and hit his head on the hard, stone floor. He didn't care if the man was conscious or not, he up quickly, shoving the man's body into the water. He got up focusing on the other two, ignoring the splash of the man from behind him. One of the men glowered at him, and got out a knife. The other had a suspicious sly grin on their face as they moved closer. Lelouch grimace, truly realizing what he had gotten himself into by picking a fight with those men.
He stood in the best looking fighting stance as he braced himself for the men to attack. Then the guy lunged at him, stabbing the dagger into his shoulder. He couldn't hold in the screech of pain when he felt the knife fully in his shoulder. He stumbled back a little and held onto the handle of the knife and yanked. He yelped, but immediately held the weapon out defensively in front of him, realizing belatedly that they were closer than they were before.
The men both grabbed at him at once, one getting a large gash in the hand and letting out a scream, as Lelouch swung the knife wildly. The other successfully seized his arm in his grasp and tried to hold him down as he struggled like a trapped animal. In a small burst of panic, he shoved the knife into the man's eye, swiftly pulling the blood soaked weapon back and staring as the man's grip loosened, his body slinking dead, and empty to the ground. After he got out of his reverie, he saw there was an opening and he darted for it, climbing the ladder as fast as he could with the hilt of the knife stuffed in his mouth.
He pushed off the lid at the top and got halfway out when he felt someone pulling on his leg like before. He winced when his injured shin banged against the bars of the ladder as he tried to wiggle and shake his leg out of the man's death hold. He kicked his legs more, finally feeling his foot collide with something he assumed was the man's face. He scrambled out, panting and quivering. He got to his feet and, at the last minute, noticed an oncoming car honking at him. He cursed, jumped out of the way and heard a blood-curdling scream coming from the sewer. He silently thanked the reckless driver and sprinted, clasping the knife tightly in his hand.
He ran as far as he could before he started to get light-headed. He decided he was far enough away that it called for rest. He limped into an alley, sliding down against one of the walls next to a dumpster. It was early morning now; he guessed that he had been on the run all night. He had the barest of smiles as he saw the slightest bit of sunlight and took a deep breath of the freshly cold air. Freedom.
He rubbed his arms a little with the chill of the morning and felt his hand run over the bump underneath his skin. He frowned and looked down at it, wondering if that the bump in his arm was something they could use to track him He touched the lump with the pads of his fingers, it felt square and hard. He sighed, coming to the decision that it was worth the risk and picked the knife off its resting place on the ground beside him. He took off his shirt, shoving part of it into his mouth and readying the blade. He dug the tip into his arm next to the bump with a muffled scream. The blood oozed out at a steady pace, Lelouch not relenting at the discouraging sight of it. He then angled the sharp tool, cutting more flesh as he did it, to dig the tip under the object. Then, ever so carefully, he pulled the knife and thing out. He groaned at the feeling of the slow process, feeling the tip of scrape against the underside of his layer of skin. When he finally got it all out, he took the shirt out of his mouth and dried the object of his blood. A tracking device, huh? He suspected as much. He was going to throw it against the ground when he got a better idea. He could throw them off his trail completely, or at least for a little while.
After some time of rummaging through the local dumpsters, he finally found a ratty old blanket that he swiftly draped it around his shoulders. That way, it the nasty thing covered all of his cuts and bruises and didn't show obvious signs of him being in a fight of some sort. If they showed that would scare people away.
He enfolded the blanket closer to himself, looking down at a probably recent, newspaper. He glanced at the date, trying to figure out just how long he might've been in there. February 17th, 2021. That explained why it was cold, but it didn't really help him remember when his birthday was. He tallied up the years in his head, coming to the conclusion that he was born in the year 2000 or 1999 and that he was about twenty-one years old. And he had also realized he had been there for twelve years. He had spend twelve years rotting in that place and it felt like whatever potential sort of life he could have had was taken right out of his hands by those bastards.
He grated his teeth together, trying to calm his bottomless disgust for the people that had done this to him. He heaved a sigh and walked out towards the outside of the alley, just at the edge leading out onto the sidewalk and to the street. He needed to focus on what he was going to do next. He felt fairly bad about what he was going to do, but it would keep them distracted long enough for him to get out of the city.
A grin crossed his face as he saw his opportunity, waiting patiently just outside the alley, snuggled up in his filthy blanket, that was probably just a towel. His awaiting opportunity was gradually approaching. The woman walked at an even pace down the sidewalk, looking as if she was taking a small break from a jog. Her red hair bounced with every step and her large chocolate Labrador trotted along beside her. When she reached where Lelouch was at, he put on his sweetest smile and asked, "May I pet your dog, ma'am?"
When the woman looked at him, her innocent seeming face turned sort of angry and annoyed. Her eyes turned into slits as she glared and brought her wrist up to check her watch hastily. She finally turned her head back towards him with a growl, "Fine, but hurry up. I don't have all day, y'know."
And suddenly, he didn't feel as bad about doing what he was going to do to the woman. He was actually feeling more sorry for the dog. He rubbed the dog all over, acting friendly, and scratching underneath the animal's chin. He acted like he was looking at the dog's tags while he slipped the chip in between the clasps of the collar. When he was sure it was secure, he stopped and smiled the best he could at the girl once again with a, "Thank you".
The redhead muttered, "Whatever" and sauntered off, grumbling some other unintelligible things as she went into the distance. With that, step one was complete. Now, all he needed was a form of transportation, money, and to make sure his wounds didn't get infected and probably some stitches if possible. Then once he was sure that they would stop coming after him, he would come back to fulfill his promise. But before he could even began to do any of that he would need to make sure he had food, rest and healing. He couldn't risk going to the hospital, so he would have to resort to stealing. Somewhere inside of him his pride hurt knowing he would have to lower himself to stealing, but he couldn't let that get in the way. His pride meant very little to him at that point and he couldn't let it mean more than it should.
He sighed and decided that that would be it for the day until nightfall. He found a dumpster to sit behind in a nearby alley, keeping him away from the view of the buzz of the busy street. He got as comfortable as he could with itchy dried blood on his arms, open wounds and having to sit up in a mucky, cold alleyway. But it didn't take long for the complete exhaustion and loss of blood to consume him in utter darkness and sending him into a dreamless sleep, something he hadn't had for quite a while.
The pads of a girl's fingers slid over the "N" charm hanging on the end of the necklace that was dangling from around her smooth neck. She stared back at herself in the mirror, her eyes revealing many different emotions in her violet hued eyes. She had a look of discontent on her face that could be taken as unhappiness, but to everyone that knew the girl; it was the natural she wore before parties or on the day of her brother's death. It especially wasn't surprising to people considering that the day held both of the unpleasantries.
He small pink lips, covered in a light, shiny gloss, were shaped into a tiny frown on her delicate face. Her lavender eyes, oh so similar to that of her deceased brother's, her mind would always supply when she gazed at them staring back at her, showed such distress. They were filled with a deep sadness and despair; something very uncommon for the girl and it made her eyes less light and happy than their norm. The cheerful gleam in her eyes she had was gone wholly, almost as if it never existed.
She examined herself, glancing up and down at her expensive appearing dress. The dress was simple for the most part, yet so elegant and "lady-like". It had gold trimming and pretty lace adorning the dress. It looked almost too beautiful to be on her. She sighed, reaching up to pull the pin out of her bun. She let the bun fall apart, her long wavy hair being unleashed and flowing down past her shoulders and stopping just past her tailbone. She ran her hands through her hair deftly, getting out the little tangles in the long mess of beige. She sighed once again, but more heavily. Lelouch always loved her hair, she thought. With that thought she had unconsciously rested her hand on the necklace. The necklace that she had gotten on that Christmas from Lelouch before everything happened. Before everything fell to pieces. He had gotten a necklace just like it, with his initial as well. It was something special that they shared. Many told her to stop wearing it, because of the grief it would bring her, but if she did that it would feel like she was forgetting about him. She couldn't do that to him.
She sniffled, holding back the tears. She needed to not mess up her slight amount of makeup. She needed to look strong, especially on a day like that day. Like she wasn't still mourning her brother's death.
"My lady… Princess Nunnally, it's time," the guard told her, finally catching her attention through her thick cloud of thoughts. He had been sitting in a low bow for some time, trying to not to raise his voice and be rude to get her to notice. He understood why she was acting like she was, and he had no right to be disrespectful.
"I'm sorry, Jeremiah. Thank you," Nunnally gave him a grateful smile, wiped her eyes and gestured for him to rise. She had lost track of time and she was happy that there was something to keep her distracted, albeit it was a party. She nodded to the guard, signaling that she was ready to go. She began to walk out, the man falling into step behind her with ease.
She shuffled to the ballroom, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the gala and flamboyance that was a royal party. She talked her way through the crowd, greeting people she hardly remembered. She strolled up to stand at the front of the party, next to her sister Euphemia. They exchanged smiles, but what looked pleasant and sweet to onlookers, was obviously faked and strained to the older princess. Worry creased the lilac eyes of Euphemia as she looked at her younger half-sister. The pain in her sister's eyes was visible, and it was saddening. Slowly, rosy haired woman reached her hand out to grasp the others. It was an honest and comforting gesture. She moved their hands, keeping them squeezed together, to hide them behind her dress. She was afraid that Nunally would reject her at first, but she followed willingly. She beamed when the younger squeezed her hand back, showing that she really accepted the comfort.
Nunnally kept a carefully constructed smile on her face as she looked upon the people in the ballroom, but she could feel the smile falter as her mind began to wonder. Why today? Of all the days to have a party it had to be the day of her brother's death anniversary. It was the only day when she wished to do nothing but shut herself in her room and mourn for her brother. It was almost like her family was testing her with the party to see if the strong princess appearance would break.
She could feel warm breath whisk against her ear as she heard her sister's soft voice whisper, "It's alright Nunnally."
Without realizing it, Nunnally had let a tear slip down her face, and her sister had noticed. She wiped her tear as subtly and quickly as she could. She could cry all she wanted when she arrived to her room later in the night, but not then. Not in front of all of those people. She didn't want them to think her weak and feeble hearted; she had to be strong like her mother was. She couldn't look like she was still struggling over her family's deaths even after twelve years.
She smiled at her sister, trying to make it appear sincere and walked away, slipping her hand away from the other and disappearing into the sea of people. With her confidence somewhat back, Nunnally spend the rest of the night mingling with the people of the court, trying to avoid letting her thoughts stray back to her brother and how much she missed him. And, eventually, she would go back to her room and let her tears finally flow.
Constructive Criticism is welcome.