"Name?" the immigration officer asked.

"Sarah Stanford."

"Race?"

"Britanian."

"Age?"

"Seventeen."

"Can I see some identification?"

I handed him my passport. "Does that work?"

"Perfectly." He continued to fill out my immigration form

I allowed my gaze to wander around the sparsely filled room, picking out my father and mother a few paces away. They were going through the same process.

"What is your reason for immigrating to Area 11?"

"My family and I only wish to help our homeland in re-populating the area." At least, that's the reason we're supposed to use.

"I understand your parents have a bit of track record?" he commented blandly.

I didn't react. "They wish to right their wrongs."

He glanced at me, re-adjusting his glasses. "Well, that should do it." He stamped my papers, handing them and my passport back to me. "Welcome to Area 11."

I nodded in thanks, passing through. Welcome to what's left of Japan.

My family and I, we're 'home landers'. Born in Britannia, the Homeland. The Britannian Empire started in Britain in the time of the Roman Empire, but they lost it when Napoleon won the Battle of Trafalgar and occupied London. In 1807, Queen Elizabeth III was chased to Edinburgh, where a popular revolutionary militias arrested her and forced her to abdicate and end the monarchy, an event known as The Shame of Edinburgh. However, The Duke of Britannia (in America) Ricardo Von Britannia and his friend and subordinate Knight of One, Sir Richard Hector, brought Elizabeth III and her followers to the new world and established a capital on the east coast of the new continent. So now, the homeland is known to be the Americas.

We are ruled by an absolute monarchy, lead by the 98th Emperor so far. Though, I've never liked the monarchy. My family has always been middle class, so we get by just fine, but we've watched what they've done to the people they've conquered and how they've spat on other nations and, quite frankly, we don't approve. This lead to my father's involvement in a Resistance movement that ended up a big flop and lead to our immigration to Area 11 in repentance. That is, if they'd let him in.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you pass." These calm, collected words sealed my fate. I'd be on my own here in Japan. Area 11. Whatever the hell they wanted to call it. I was to be nothing more than a hostage to the Empire.

"Why not!?" my father exclaimed. He was a medium sized man of lean build, with graying-black hair and brown eyes. A pair of round-framed glasses adorned his handsome face, which was currently screwed up in anger. "I've paid my dues to Britannia! I am loyal! I swear!"

"The government has deemed otherwise, Mr. Stanford. Please, return to the homeland with your wife at once."

"What about my daughter!? She's passed through already!"

"She will remain here on the Viceroy's orders. She will be boarded in a small apartment and attend Ashford Academy. A large sum has already been subtracted from your account and placed into a personal one for her. Additional funds can be requested and deposited on your own time. She will be cared for."

"That's a load of bull shit!"

"Henry..." my mother whimpered. She was a shorter, more heavy-set woman, with short, graying, curly red-brown hair and a gentle face. Her brown eyes were glassy, filled with tears. "Please..."

"I'm not going to leave my daughter in their hands Linda! I won't!"

The immigration officer pressed a button under his desk. "I'm afraid that you must leave the premises Mr. Stanford. Your wife as well."

Four Britannian soldiers appeared from adjacent doorways, surrounding my parents. Two additional soldiers appeared on either side of me. I was being held hostage.

"Sarah!" my father called. "Hang in there, alright!? We'll get you back! I promise!"

"I love you," my mother mouthed.

I could only watch, terrified, as they were dragged off and out of the Immigration Area.

"Now, Ms. Stanford. If you'd come with me," The immigration officer who had just dismissed my parents turned and beckoned me forward. I was still frozen in shock and fear, only moving when one of the soldiers nudged me forward with the butt of his gun. Obediently I followed the man outside and into an official-looking vehicle.

"Eleven!" the official snapped, handing the soldier a piece of paper. "Take her to that address and see that she is settled in."

"Yes sir," the muffled reply came. The rear door sprung open and I was guided to it.

"Have a safe trip," was all I heard as I slid mechanically into the car and the door snapped shut.

"What's your name?" my driver suddenly asked.

I snapped out of my daze, looking up. "Sarah Stanford. Yours?"

"Suzaku Kururugi."

"Japanese right?"

I watched him tense in the rear view mirror. "Most Britannians call me an Eleven."

I sighed, crossing my arms. "You're Japanese, not an Eleven. You have a right to your own culture."

"Are you sure you're Britannian?"

"Born and raised. Doesn't mean I've been brainwashed like the rest of the population."

Suzaku chuckled, the sound muted by his helmet. "Might want to be careful where you bring that up."

"Yeah. I know," I replied forlornly.

We fell into an uncomfortable silence for a time. I was brooding, he probably didn't know what to say.

To break the silence, he asked, "Why are you here? In Area 11?"

"I'm in Japan because my father got caught aiding a Resistance movement back in the homeland. This was part of his punishment."

"Where are your parents then?"

"The government apparently changed its mind. He and my mother were sent back to Britannia."

"They're holding you hostage?"

"Basically. Trying to keep my dad in line."

Silence, then, "So you're on your own then?"

"Yes."

"I see..."

Silence again. I broke it this time. "Why did you become an Honorary Britannian Mr. Kururugi?" I inquired.

"I want to change how Britannia works, make it better without the bloodshed. And please, call me Suzaku."

"I see. But don't people look down on you Suzaku?"

"Yes. But it's worth it in the end if I can achieve my goals." The vehicle came to a stop.

"Well then, I wish you luck."

"Thank you, Ms. Stanford." He turned off the ignition, opening his door.

I opened my own, sliding out. "Please. Just call me Sarah. No need for formalities."

He nodded. Too bad I couldn't see his face.

"This is the address they gave me. Your apartment is on the fourth floor, room 404." He turned to me. "Would you like me to escort you up there?"

"I-If it wouldn't be too much trouble," I stammered. I just didn't want to be left alone.

He nodded, grabbing one of my bags and proceeding up the steps ahead of me. I grabbed the other and followed suit.

We walked across the lobby in silence, stopping only to acquire my key and wait for the elevator. We entered the metal block and Suzaku pressed a button labeled with the number 4. With an audible clank, the elevator started upwards. The movement was accompanied by the usual, tinny elevator music, which had me chuckling. The soldier looked at me, his helmet betraying no emotion.

"Sorry. It's just that no matter where you go, the elevator music is always the same. For some reason, it just struck me as funny," I explained.

He nodded briefly, before turning back to the now opening doors. We moved out and down the left corridor, stopping in front of a black door labeled 404 in silver paint.

"Here you are Ms. Stanford."

"Sarah," I corrected.

He chuckled quietly. "Sarah."

"Thank you for accompanying me Suzaku."

"It was my pleasure."

I offered him my hand, which he took almost hesitantly. But his grip was strong, and then he was gone, down the hallway and out of sight.

I didn't expect to ever meet him again.

Later that night, after I had meandered back out on my own to visit the bank and do some necessity shopping, I took a look at the pamphlet for Ashford Academy. It had a beautiful campus and facilities, but it looked a little bit extravagant for my tastes.

"A rich school for rich kids," I muttered. Most of the listed faculty seemed to have connections in the high courts, which usually meant that the students were from very influential families as well...not like my own.

With a sigh, I put aside the pamphlet and looked at the uniform order form. After seeing pictures of the girl's uniforms, I ordered a boy's uniform. They'd have hissy-fits, but I really didn't care. You would never catch me in a skirt that short.

After placing the form in my mail box in the lobby, I returned to my room and finished unpacking. My long brown hair kept falling in my face as I bent over, so I tied it back into a pony tail with practiced ease, making a mental note to get more hair ties as I rummaged through my things.

It was after 11 when I finished, sticking my bags in the closet. There was a lot of things that I would have to do between now and the time classes start, but I was too sleepy to care. So, as I collapsed on my bed, I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming about home and better times gone by.