Authour's Note: This idea has been in my head since near the beginning of summer so now I thought I'd write it down. Believe it or not it has become one of my headcanons. It didn't turn out exactly like I thought or as well as I hoped, but I don't hate it. I still like it. I hope you like it too.

One-shot. Includes Lelouch mainly but also has some Suzaku and Nunnally. Set before the series began. Set sometime during the war, or perhaps in the aftermath of the war between Japan and Britannia. (Doesn't really matter. I believe both would be possible though I don't know military so you decide)

A bit of gore and violence warning though by my standards it's not too bad. But those are my standards... There's a little bit of swearing too. I rated it T.

Disclaimer: I of course do not own or am affiliated with Code Geass or its producers in any way. This work is purely fan based.


One foot in front of the other. His shoes scuffed the ground as he trudged along. Lelouch had his eyes fixed on the path beneath his feet. He could tell people didn't often tread on this earth. Nature still had its teeth sunk into it. Creepers slunk from the thick layer of foliage to either side. Weeds had sprouted, and branches from bushes and trees blocked their way at frequent intervals.

Shifting his gaze upward, Lelouch looked for the sun peeking though the branches high above. Sunlight streamed through the canopy, scattering shadows and casting a mottled pattern on his face and everything around him. It was fairly early in the day. About eleven o'clock based on the position of the sun. They had been traveling for two hours already, searching for a sign of civilization in the relatively uninhabited section of land they were travelling through. They needed supplies and food. The pack weighing on the former prince's back was too light for comfort.

Again, his gaze shifted. He now looked directly in front of himself. Suzaku carried his little sister piggyback. The two boys took turns carrying the crippled girl, each giving the other a turn to rest. Though being the less fit of the two, it was more often for Lelouch's benefit rather than the other way around. However that wasn't something he would admit to.

"Hey. What's that?" Suzaku pointed ahead of the trio with one arm, securing Nunnally with the other. Through the thick foliage he could make out shapes.

Lelouch squinted his eyes, peering to where his friend pointed, trying to discern what it was he was seeing through the trees as the forest ended.

"Huh?" Nunnally perked up. "What is it? What are you looking at?" The blind girl clenched Suzaku's shoulder a little tighter.

"It's," the raven-haired boy began. His eyes filled with wonder and relief. "It looks like it's a building. We probably found a little village." The happiness bled into his voice.

"Alright!" Suzaku pumped a fist into the air. "About time too."

They hurried excitedly down the remainder of the path. A village meant people once lived there. It was most likely abandoned but there were probably still supplies left behind as the inhabitants fled or had been wiped out by soldiers. It meant food, shelter, water, rest, and all sorts of supplies could be ripe for the taking. Because that's what they did. They were scavengers now, vultures living off what others left behind. Though at times they caught animals, found fruit, found water and found materials to make tools out of in the wilderness and along the countryside.

Now side by side, they reached the edge of the forest. They could see that it was indeed a little village. There were a cluster of buildings that extended down into a valley. Suzaku was about to charge through the last of the undergrowth into the clearing but Lelouch suddenly placed a hand on his friend's chest, forcing the other boy back.

"Idiot. You never rush into a village. How many times have I told you? There could be thugs, frightened people just waiting for the Britannians, soldiers, anything. You could get us all killed," the more sensible of the two scolded in a hushed tone. Lelouch looked sternly at the brown-haired boy.

"Oh, sorry. I guess I got a little carried away," the Japanese boy whispered back. He placed Nunnally on the ground gently beside him and they all hunkered down in the foliage, Lelouch and Suzaku peering out between the leaves.

The boys couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean no one was there. "Nunnally, don't move. We'll be right back," Suzaku told the little girl.

"Try making the signal like I showed you if something happens. And if that doesn't work just shout for us. We'll come running," Lelouch quietly said, trying to sound encouraging. "Just like we always do. Okay?"

Nunnally nodded her head. They had done this many times before.

The two boys moved away, each creeping stealthily in opposite directions to get better vantage points of the village. Lelouch crawled a ways when he almost literally ran across it. A corpse. It was a man, a bullet in his back, facedown. He was almost completely covered by the thick foliage he had crumpled into when he fell. Simple clothes adorned his still form, the clothes of a simple villager. He hadn't been dead that long. A couple days maybe at Lelouch's best guess. There would be no frightened villagers prepared to fight to the death for their home against the Britannians. The Britannians were too efficient. There would be no soldiers. They wouldn't double back to a place they had already wiped out. It was unlikely there were any refugees like them, but possible. It was the same with thugs, looters, and all manner of others left to wander the hillsides. Overall the news was positive. They would still be careful but the coast should most likely be clear.

He changed direction, skirting past Nunnally, and found Suzaku. The brown-haired boy was still trying to spot any dangers from a distance. "The coast should be clear. I found a body back there. A villager, only a day or two old."

"Gotcha. And now it's my turn." Suzaku exited the safe haven of the forest, cautiously inching towards the buildings, on high alert. This was their procedure. Send Suzaku to scour the area for any danger after they made sure there were no immediate threats as far as they could tell. He went because he was faster, more likely to be able to run away if he did find something. Lelouch sometimes went. He was clever which made up for what he was lacking but Lelouch gave Suzaku a list of things to look for, and precautions to take as he scouted the area. With the combination of Lelouch's instructions and Suzaku's athleticism, the Japanese boy was certainly preferable.

After vanishing among the buildings, the boy came running back into view a little while later, waving his arms. "All clear!" he shouted to them. Lelouch picked up his sister and piggybacked her to where Suzaku stood. Suzaku led the way, obviously searching for a particular building. "Found this one little house. It's nice. No...uh...well it's not half bad I guess. A little run down."

Lelouch knew Suzaku was probably going to say corpses but they had an agreement not to let Nunnally know, to protect her. And besides, they bothered the other boy. It was obvious he didn't like looking at or even thinking about them.

Something caught Lelouch's eye. There was a river running through the valley, and on the other side was what seemed to be another little village, or an extension of this one. It was hidden by another outcropping of trees, preventing him from noticing it before.

"Hm? What's that?"

"Oh, I saw that too. It's just another little village. Before you say anything, I couldn't really get over there. The river is in the way, and there was no sign that anyone was there."

Lelouch huffed. "Fine. You're probably right. I'll check it out though."

"How are you going to get over there?"

"I'm sure I'll find a way."

The Japanese boy shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Suzaku led them to a little house. Like he said, it was a little run down, nothing special.

"Not bad huh?"

"I guess." Lelouch set Nunnally down on a chair.

"What does it look like?" Nunnally cut in.

"Well," Suzaku began.

Lelouch interrupted."I'm going to head over there. I'll look for supplies there if you look for them over here. We can split the work load.

"Sure. Fine. Bye and good luck." Suzaku smiled a little at him before reverting his attention to Nunnally.

"Be careful," Nunnally said.

Lelouch smiled kindly at his little sister. He knew she couldn't see it but she would be able to hear it in his voice. "I'm always careful. Don't worry."

"So anyways Nunnally, it's got these cute little windows. I think you would like them. And even though no one is here it's all clean like it was meant just for us and..."

Suzaku's chatter faded as Lelouch left the house. He hiked up his pack and set off to the outcropping of trees. If he was lucky one might be fallen and he could get across the river using it. It wasn't that wide and it ran right through the forest.

As he neared the river he saw it wasn't overly deep. Deep enough to swim in but not much more. The current wasn't particularly fast. The waters were almost completely still. Though while it was swimmable, he would still prefer not to get wet. Lelouch walked farther up the embankment and just as he predicted there was a fallen tree he managed to use to help him get over the flowing water.

As he crawled across the trunk of the tree, the former prince's thoughts strayed to the burbling water flowing past in gentle currents below. They might be able to boil it if they could find something to start a fire. The little group of refugees had lost their old gear, but if they could find something the water would be potable. Lelouch had to admit the prospect was tantalizing. His thirsty throat pleaded with him to soothe its angry flesh which felt as dry and rough as sandpaper. He hadn't drank anything since yesterday and that was just a little sip of water to soothe his aching throat. Though the boy was dehydrated, he denied the enticing invitations of the burbling river. He was only ten but he was clever. Always had been. He loved books, had read lots and he paid attention to all the information given to him too. The knowledge that there could be toxins in the water lent him discipline enough to resist the temptation. Gingerly, he slid off the tapering trunk onto the ground below, his shoes impacting the stones with a crunch.

With the first obstacle behind him, he carefully entered the town, going through all the precautions meticulously as he made his way through the buildings.

Now that he was here he thought he knew approximately where they were based on a map he'd seen. He could guess from the landscape and by keeping track of where they had been. There was a road coming into this side of town. He guessed it probably led back to the more populated areas. That was where the kids from this town would probably go to school. They were not quite as in the middle of nowhere as he had originally thought. Still pretty out there but not so bad. What he thought was a small village was a much more developed town than he had guessed. It had just been hidden by the trees. And they had just been wiped out.

Bodies littered the ground sporadically. They weren't pleasant to look at but they hadn't really started stinking that bad yet and in a war...it's commonplace. He had seen more corpses than he cared to. This was nothing compared to the times they walked through mounds of the rotting bodies. Everyone was killed. Men and women, the old and young alike. He tried not to think about it. It bothered him a little though not nearly as much as Suzaku. It stole his innocence...but that went out the window what seemed like a long time ago. All he could do now was protect Nunnally from the horrors of the world as best he could. The horrors of the country called Britannia.

Anyways, there were still supplies everywhere that they could use, bodies or not, and he would still check the whole place out. He entered a store and that's when he saw it. A few fire starters. Water! Normally he wouldn't stop to pick up supplies when he was checking for safety. He didn't want to stay in the same place for too long. It made him vulnerable. But no one was here, and besides there were lots of supplies. If he got them here he could save time. Lelouch was exhausted. His legs were sore, he was fatigued, he was dehydrated and hadn't eaten anything in...in a couple days he realized. The mere thought of having to come back when what he needed was right in front of him made his aching muscles scream.

He knelt down, removing his pack and began filling it with the most essential supplies at the ready. He focused on stuffing them into his bag and when a fair portion was full he stood and slung the pack on once again, exiting the small building and veering off to the side. The store was near the edge, not so far from the trees, and he followed a dirt path in the space between two buildings. Suddenly a strap broke on the weathered pack but he merely sighed, stopping to remove it again and see if the bag could be fixed. His violet eyes fixed on the frayed ends of the torn strap in front of him. If he could find a needle and some thread...

"What do ya think you're doin' there kiddo?"

Lelouch froze. Someone was right behind him. His blood ran cold and he gulped nervously. He could try to run but...the person was right there. His chances would be slim.

"Hey. You deaf or somethin'?" The voice belonged to a man. It was deep and harsh, grating against his ears.

He slowly stood straight, acutely aware of his vulnerable spine, and raised his open hands, showing he was no threat. Lelouch opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the man.

"Turn 'round kid."

Lelouch complied. The exiled prince noted he was average height and weight. Japanese. He had stringy brown hair and cold, dark eyes. While not particularly large, he seemed fit enough, and he towered over the ten year old. From his attire Lelouch easily concluded the man was a thug, a ruffian, a looter, a scavenger, and who knew what else. Nothing about him said friend. But the thing Lelouch noticed most was what he held in his hand. The man was holding a knife. The steel blade glinted in the light.

The ruffian's eyes widened and he laughed. There was a cold, mocking edge to it. "Oh ho. What do we got here? A Brit! I thought I saw some kid in the store but lookie what I've got me. A stinkin' Brit!" He laughed again, harder this time.

"Look sir. I mean you no harm. I purpose a deal. You seem like a reasonable fellow. If you just let me go I'll-"

"He even talks all fancy like!" Mocking laughter again. "And look here." He gestured at the young Britannian's chest with his knife. "Fancy little clothes. Looks like you're a pampered little runt. Or were!" He laughed yet again. "You little piece of shit! You a noble's son or somethin'?"

Lelouch looked up, horrified at the man. He shook his head. "I'm no one. Really. I swear. So if you could just let me leave we don't need to get into any trouble. Everyone wins." He had slowly taken a step back, hoping to perhaps flee the scene.

"You think I trust a Brit's word? You little fuck. No one's gonna be goin' anywhere. You hear? It's not gonna end well for the likes o' you."

Lelouch was panicked and terrified. He stood staring at the man with wide, unblinking eyes. Sweat dripped down his pack, his heartbeat pounding, loud and clear in his ears like a drum. It was much too fast. This man would not be reasoned with. What should he do? He looked around but he had nothing to use in his defense. His options were limited. He could comply with what the man said, which he bet was die, or he could run for it. Lelouch chose the latter option.

He spun in the other direction and bolted, as rapidly as he could, adrenaline pushing him faster than he had ever run before.

A shout called out after him. "Little bastard!"

His heart raced, his feet pounded on the ground, his mind reached out for every slim advantage he had. He turned a sharp corner. He was more agile. The man was still on his tail. He ran around a building, and ran through the open door of a house, ducking under a table in the way. He was smaller. He heard the man crash into the furniture right behind him and swear but he recovered quickly. He was still right on his tail. It had seemed like a strange thing to run into a house when someone was chasing you but Lelouch had another advantage. He was more clever. There was an open window. He dove through, out onto the bushes before springing up and continuing. The man was too big to fit through.

Lelouch thought he lost him, but he kept running, even though his lungs burned. They were on fire. His breath heaved in and out, straining to provide his body with enough oxygen. His panic and fear kept him from flagging as he dashed headlong for the forest.

He was passing one of the buildings along the edge. The boy dared to hope he could make it when the thug came around a corner, managing to catch up and tackle him with the weight of what felt like a freight train.

They scuffled on the ground. Lelouch flailed and managed to hit him several times. In the face with an elbow. In the gut with a knee. He thrashed and kicked, but to no avail. The man's superior size, weight, and strength won out and as a result he found himself pinned on his stomach in the dirt. The side of his face was roughly pressed into the ground.

"Let me go!" Lelouch spat vehemently. He struggled against him.

"Stop your damned strugglin' Brit. You're not gettin' away."

The boy managed to raise his head a little. "So are you just going to kill me then? That's it?! What's the point?" he demanded, his voice poisonous.

His head was slammed back down and he felt the cold edge of steel on his throat as a the man's insidious voice warned, "Said stop strugglin'."

He did, now laying on the ground, limp.

"I was going to let you go before I saw your fucking Brit face. The point is you're one of them. I'm gonna make you pay," the ruffian growled. He felt a vicious kick in the side and groaned as the sharp pain spread across his side. A rough hand yanked his hair, pulling him up onto his feet. The knife still dug into the sensitive skin of his throat; a bead of crimson dripped down. The man was right behind him, his mouth next to his ear, hot breath on his neck and making the small hairs there rise. "The things I'm gonna do to you," the man snarled. "You'll be begging for death when I'm done."

"But I'm not one of them! I'm like you! They took everything from me! I hate Britannia! I didn't do anything!"

"Lyin', stinkin' Brit! You'll go crawlin' back. You're one of em. You're all the same. Just look around, that's what you'll do. I'm doin' the world favour gettin' rid of the likes of you."

"Racist pig!"

The knife left his neck as Lelouch was roughly spun around and he felt a hand tighten on his throat as he was pushed back. His head slammed into the wall of the building the thug had run past, now directly behind him. He was looking right into the eyes of the Japanese man.

"What you say?!"

Lelouch tried to kick him between the legs, but his foot was crushed under the man's. He pulled weakly on the man's arm, but he was stronger and bigger than himself by far. The hand pressed against his windpipe, making it difficult to breathe. Slowly, the man trailed the edge of the knife along the curve of his cheek, not drawing blood but threatening to. He couldn't move, couldn't escape. He felt so powerless. He couldn't hide the terror which was now evident in his wide amethyst eyes. His heart thumped, his mind raced. So this is it? It's all going to end here? I don't want to die! Nunnally!

The man pressed harder on his windpipe, cutting off his breathing completely. The exiled Britannian prince started pulling more desperately on the hand and black spots danced before his eyes. He thought he might pass out when finally the thug let go entirely. He stumbled forward from the sudden lack of pressure, air flowing into his oxygen-starved lungs. He gasped and looked up at the man, still blocking his escape, looming over him. Lelouch felt very small.

"Not yet," said the man with a vicious grin. "What should I do to you? Should I..." A fist hit his face. The pain was instant, mind numbing. He made as if to strike again, causing Lelouch to wince, but stopped short. "No. Too easy." He moved the tip of the knife up to his face, the point lightly touching the corner of his eye. "I could always cut out yer eyes." His grin widened. "No." The knife turned away from his face and Lelouch saw an opportunity.

The pale exposed skin of his wrist peeked out from his sleeve, right in front of him. Sensitive flesh. He snatched the arm before the man could react and sunk his teeth into the exposed skin, as hard as he could, the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. The man howled in pain and dropped the knife which fell to the ground with a clunk.

Lelouch let go and darted away, slipping right by the Japanese man, but he didn't get far. He took a couple steps but the man had managed to push him forward roughly. He lost balance from the forceful push and fell forward, sliding slightly once he hit the ground. A grunt escaped his lips at the impact. He scrambled forward but the man grasped his ankle, dragging him back, reeling him in to his doom. Desperate, he dug his fingers into the ground but there was nothing to hold onto. Abandoning the pointless effort, Lelouch instead managed to flip himself around onto his back and kicked, hard. The grip loosened. With a last effort he lunged back, adrenaline rushing through his veins. His hand hit something. It was long, cold and hard. A hilt. As he wrapped his fingers around it he realized it was the knife.

The man lunged, going for the throat. Everything seemed like it was in slow motion. The sound of his heart, the man reaching forward with a snarl. Lelouch brought the knife in front of himself, forming a barrier between the two, but even as the thug noticed inertia refused to allow the man to divert his course. The knife slid into the man's abdomen, stabbing into vulnerable flesh, as fragile as parchment.

Crimson bloomed on the ruffian's shirt, spreading outward, an unfurling flower. He looked down to where the knife, still in the boy's hand, stuck out. Pain clouded dark eyes. The man crumpled to the side and onto his back as he weakened, what little strength he had left annulled by shock for the moment. Lelouch pulled back the knife as he rose to his feet. Now he loomed over the man. He was giddy with relief. He felt powerful. "Who is going to die now? Huh?"

The man snarled, "You fuckin' Brit." He clutched his wound with one hand, reaching out grasp the boy's pant leg with the other.

His giddy grin fell from his face as he glared downwards at the man's hand.

"Let go," he commanded. Lelouch shook his foot, struggling to break free, but the hand only pulled harder in response. "Just let go and die already!" Kneeling down, he tried to remove the hand but the man's vice-like grip resisted his efforts.

"You stinkin', fuckin' Brit. Aren't you even gonna finish me off? Too scared?" he taunted.

With eyebrows knit together in rage, he gripped the knife still in his hand tighter.

"You're a weakling is what you are. Can't even kill me right."

"Tch." His jaw clenched and he hissed, "shut up and let go."

"What was that? You're a useless piece of trash at the mercy of yer country. Ya don't even have the guts to kill me," the thug mocked.

"Shut. Up," he spat, the words demanding to be obeyed. How dare he. This dullard knew nothing. The tension in him was rising farther; violet eyes burned into the weakening man intensely.

"I bet yer parents just threw you away. That's why you're out here. And now ya can't even do what needs to be done."

The anger in Lelouch snapped, throwing him into a blind rage as he shouted, "Just die!"

Gripping it with two hands, he raised the blade into the air. It was slick with blood. He plunged it into his chest, where he knew his heart was approximately, but he missed. His blow glanced of a rib, sliding the wrong way, off by just a few centimetres. The man's shirt was quickly being soaked with blood. The ruffian's brow furrowed with pain.

"Make yer momma proud," he grated out weakly, a mocking smile on his face. "You're all the same, you Brits." A cough. Blood trickled out the corner of his mouth. "You're one of them."

"I'm not one of them! I said, DIE!" He plunged the knife into the man's chest again.

"Weakl-" Another stab.

"Shut up! JUST DIE!" Stab. Light left the man's eyes and his hand holding the hem of the boy's pants fell back. Lelouch didn't notice. He stabbed again. He was not a weakling. Stab. He lived. He won. He stabbed. He would not be the victim. He stabbed again. A toothy grin spread across his face. It was made demonic by the blood from biting the man's wrist, still staining his mouth. He stabbed again. He would not be a tool. Again he plunged the knife. He had power! Again. He was in control. Again. For mother! Again. For Nunnally! Again.

He kept plunging the knife into the corpse until his breath came ragged and his arms started quivering from exhaustion, adrenaline and bloodlust no longer driving him on. His vision blurred out of focus and he concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out. Slowly, his breath returned to a regular rhythm. His frantic heartbeat slowed and grew quieter until he could no longer hear it. He was still alive. Alive!

As Lelouch's breath came easier his mind became clearer and everything snapped into focus, his brain finally registering the magnitude of what had happened. He saw what he had done. His hands and knife were slick with sticky blood. Gaping wounds stared up at him. Lifeless eyes still fixed on him in death, accusing him. He recoiled, jerking back, and ran into the wall, but he hardly noticed the impact. The sight was no better from here. He saw the knife still in his hand and he threw it, not wanting the instrument of his violent act anywhere remotely near him. What had he done? He stood shakily, eyes still glued to the horrific sight. The inner turmoil was overwhelming and overpowering so on instinct he fled the scene, not looking back.

He ran for the forest, not really heading anywhere. He just wanted to get away. That's all he knew. Crashing through the undergrowth, his feet thundered on the ground, digging into dirt. As he reached the other side his foot hit a rock and he flew forward, almost falling into the river, now in front of him.

Landing on hands in knees, he found his own face staring back at him. It was his reflection in the surprisingly still water of the river. His black hair was in a state of wild disarray. He could see where the Japanese man had hit him. It was beginning to bruise and swell. His eyes were wide and he had specks of blood splattered across his face. Lelouch didn't recognize himself. There was something feral about the boy looking back at him. Something dark looked out of the deep depths in his violet eyes. He had never seen this before, and it frightened him. This was his first real glimpse at this thing, this...demon.

He sat upright, cringing from the sight of his own face.

Next he saw his hands. They were stained red, shaking as he turned them over, examining them. These were not his hands. They were cut and scratched. Wounds new and old marked them from surviving out here. The most prominent were from his desperate fight for his life just moments before. And the most striking element was the blood, slowly drying on his shaking hands. These were the hands of a killer, not the soft, smooth and clean hands of a prince.

He looked down at himself and his breath caught in his throat. Over the time spent at the Kururugi shrine and after the war started the clothes had slowly started to wear down, and now they were smeared with dirt more often than not. But even then they still retained their bright white colour. Now the once fine clothes were ruined. The silk shirt was stained red where the man's blood had splattered on it. His white pants too. There was a hole in them where his scraped knee was exposed. He hardly recognized his own clothes.

He tore at the buttons, ripping the shirt off and dunking it in the water as he began scrubbing vigorously. The blood leached from his hands and clothes, swirling into the dark water, but the stain still remained. No matter how hard he scrubbed the stain wouldn't come out. The stain on his clothes, his hands, his heart, his soul.

Murderer, a voice in his mind whispered. But it was in self defense. He didn't have a choice. Then why were you smiling? Why could you feel laughter rising in your throat? Why didn't you stop when he died? You enjoyed it. You're a killer. Murderer, the voice whispered again. It was his own voice, his own thoughts. He was looking in the face of a monster, a murderer, a demon. And it was him.

It was true. He had felt a perverse sense of satisfaction and sick sense of glee as he held the fate of another human being in his hands. He would no longer be pushed around, used like a tool. He was in control. And he craved that control, that power. He had let out his frustration and anger at the world on the man too. He had liked it. Murderer. You're just like them. Like father like son. No! He scrubbed harder, but the once pristine white shirt would never be clean. Just like him.

A crow landed on a nearby branch. It had come to join the feast on the corpses in the village. It cawed, the raspy voice seeming to call out to him in the dead silence of their surroundings. Lelouch swore it sounded like mocking laughter. He scrubbed harder. He could feel the anguish growing inside him, consuming him, until it took over.

He began to cry, tears streaming down his face. He was just so tired, hungry, thirsty and he felt so drained. He was so tired of running, so tired of sleeping on the hard ground; he was so tired of his stomach being empty; he was so tired of pretending everything was fine; he was so tired of being brave. He was ten years old and he was already weary of the world, angry and bitter. He felt so weak, and it let his anguish take hold, cutting a deeper and deeper wound into his heart. It was self defense, but he still felt so guilty. He was a killer.

Images of the body flashed before his eyes. The memories were seared into him. The accusing eyes, the knife, the warm blood soaking his hands, splattering onto him with each vicious strike. The tears stopped, but now he felt nauseous, like he would be sick. He stopped scrubbing. It was useless anyways. Lelouch began to retch and cough but there was nothing in his stomach. He hadn't eaten anything in a few days, instead giving his small portion to Nunnally.

The retching slowly stopped. The guilt and horror of his own actions still weighed on him but he came back to more pressing matters. There were things he had to deal with and things he could fix. He couldn't continue to wallow in self pity. He still needed to get supplies, still needed to check out the rest of the village. And he needed to hide that anything ever happened here. There was no way he was going to let Nunnally or Suzaku know what happened here today. They would be worried. They would think he was a monster. The thought of his own sister screaming "demon" at him was one he couldn't bear. It was too much. No one would ever have to know.

Lelouch would go back for the pack where he had left it. Easy. He would check out the rest of the town for danger. Easy. He would just keep the others away from this part of town so they wouldn't see the body. Easy. He would come up with excuses for his injuries. Easy. But what about the clothes? He couldn't fix them. They were ruined. He would have to attempt to find new ones. There had to be some kids that lived here.

He set off and did each of those things. He concluded the rest of the town was safe, he found his pack and filled it completely with any supplies and food he could find. What about the clothes? He went into building after building but couldn't find any clothes. Well not kid's clothes. Actually he did, but they all belonged to boys either much older or younger or they belonged to girls.

Why couldn't he find any? It seemed strange, and then he entered the bedroom of a boy. He was about his age. Similar height, similar weight. There was one problem. There was a hole through the wall from a grenade. And guess what it destroyed? The dresser. He wouldn't find any clothes there. But how did he know the kid was the correct age and height and weight? His room was mostly destroyed, including the clothes. He knew because he found the body, downstairs with his mother's.

The boy was wearing a traditional Japanese school uniform. It was a dull grey, undamaged, and miraculously clean. He was about to steal the clothing of a dead child, right off his corpse.

Luckily he hadn't been dead long. A day approximately. Lelouch had learned to judge time of death from books and now experience. He'd learned from the state of the bodies, and the stink.

The mother sat upright, eyes still open and jaw torn off from a bullet, partially destroyed tongue freely lolling out of the gaping hole. She wore a simple white dress and her brown hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, gathered to the side. Her unseeing blue eyes were still open, dead and lifeless. Blood had dribbled down her front.

The same blue eyes as the mother's stared up at him from the boy. His brain was splattered on the wall from the shot he had taken to the head but Lelouch was lucky. The boy's body had fallen so his head rested on his mother's shoulder, sparing the clothes of any blood or gore.

Lelouch brought a blanket from upstairs. He wrapped the head to prevent the gore from smearing on the fabric as he removed the uniform. He heaved the body up and laid it flat on its back before beginning to remove each of the garments. He just needed the grey shirt and long black shorts. When he was finished he removed the piece of cloth, instead using it to cover the length of the body. And before he left, he closed the corpses' eyes. It wasn't usually something he would do but in the circumstance it seemed the least he could. And besides, the glazed over eyes seemed to accuse "killer" whenever he looked at them.

He headed back to the river where he washed the clothes with some soap he had found earlier on in the shop. Then he undressed and put the dead boy's clothes on, hiding his old bloodstained ones in the foliage so they wouldn't been seen. The exiled prince washed his face and arms of blood and dunked his head in the water to match his clothes. He did the same with his shoes before he headed back to where Nunnally and Suzaku were stilled holed up.

"Brother?" Nunnally's voice called out. "Is that you?"

"Oh, hello Nunnally," Lelouch greeted. "I have returned."

"That's good. We were getting worried."

"What took you so long? You've been out for hours," Suzaku piped up.

"Oh nothing really. Just checking things out. I got a little side tracked." Lelouch shrugged, trying to seem casual.

"You got new clothes? And you're all wet..." The brown-haired boy scrutinized him with emerald eyes. "You're soaked."

"Yeah. I ripped a hole in my old ones and besides they were getting pretty beaten up. I found these so I switched. And when I was coming back I accidentally fell into the water so..."

Nunnally and Suzaku laughed a little at the thought. "Nice one," Suzaku said, grinning.

"Big brother is clumsy." Nunnally smiled.

Lelouch rubbed the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly. "Maybe a little sometimes."

Suddenly Suzaku frowned and pointed at him. "Wait. What happened to your face?" He looked down. "And your knee?"

"Well I fell into the water when I was crossing over the river. I was climbing over a fallen tree. I was using it as a sort of bridge and slipped from up top and fell down. There was a rock right below so..."

"Are you okay?" Nunnally asked, concerned.

"I'm perfectly fine Nunnally. Nothing to worry about. Just a few scrapes."

She looked relieved.

Satisfied with his explanations, they moved onto other matters. "So what did you get?"

He showed Suzaku and told Nunnally.

"Alright! We got bread, candles..." Suzaku rhymed off a list of things but Lelouch wasn't really paying much attention.

It was as if the image of the dead man and the image of the mother an child's eyes were seared into his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about them. Though he knew no one would ever know, he felt as if the other two noticed something from every look they gave him. It felt like they knew what he did, but he knew logically they didn't. There was no way. It would be his little secret. One of his deepest, darkest, most foul ones. And that was the sad part. It was the one of a few. There were certain things Nunnally didn't need to know. There were certain things Suzaku didn't need to know. No one ever needed to know about them. They would be locked away for good. He just wondered when he had become such a liar. When this dark thing he saw staring back at him from his own eyes had appeared, this demon. He didn't know. Maybe it had always been there. Maybe it was recent. But there was one thing he did know. There was no getting rid of it, no turning back. Nothing would be the same as it was back then. Before the war, before lies and secrets, before his mother was murdered, before this thing inside him started to rear its ugly head. Nothing would be the same ever again.

A familiar voice suddenly pulled the Britannian out of his reverie. "Here," Suzaku said holding out a piece of bread."Eat this."

"I'm okay." He shook his head, attempting to politely decline. "I'm not hungry."

The other boy frowned at him through curly brown bangs. He hushed his voice, so Nunnally wouldn't hear. "Don't be stupid. I ate last time now it's your turn. Besides, there's enough for all of us. You must be starving."

"Well I'm not." In truth he still felt queasy. He wasn't entirely sure he would be able to stomach the food, no matter how much his body needed the nourishment.

"You need to eat," he insisted more firmly.

"Save it. I'll eat it later. I told you I'm not that hungry."

Suzaku gave him a strange look, but put the bread away. Though he was with those two, he felt very alone, separate, and like he didn't belong in that moment. He wasn't the type to talk to others about his feelings and besides he didn't think they would understand. Little did he know the emerald eyes of a killer were looking right back at him. The eyes of a father killer, like he would someday become.

"I think I'm just going to sleep for a bit. I'm tired."

"Okay," Suzaku said, his eyes following his friend as he exited the room.

"Sweet dreams big brother," Nunnally called after him.

Lelouch found the small bedroom and tried to sleep. He couldn't. He didn't even sleep well that night either. Perhaps for an hour, no more. It was difficult to sleep when you remember your horrific glee at killing someone. It was difficult to sleep with demons dancing in your head.


Author's Note: Let me explain why I think this happened. It was war so they were bound to run into many troubles. We hardly saw any of them. Also, in the first episode Lelouch kills a number of people with his Geass. He hardly bats an eyelash at it. He is pleased. I know he has seen countless corpses and has seen the war pretty darn up close and personal but I feel like if that was his first time killing someone himself he would be more affected. So it makes sense to me that it was not his first kill. I decided to write about it and here we are.

So what do you think? Did you like it? Did you dislike it? Tell me why. I like reviews. Well I really hope you enjoyed it. I had some fun writing it. Yes...I know... It's my poor darling going through hell, and becoming a demon but I did enjoy it. Maybe I'm sadistic but I want to scoop him up and tell him everything will be fine too though. Even though nothing will ever entirely be fine again.

And a side note...the clothes. Maybe I'm just weird but I noticed at the end of the time they were doing...well things like the stuff in this fic and after the war he wore what looked like a school uniform. But before at the Kururugi Shrine and that one scene walking through the area covered in bodies he wore the white clothes from when he was a prince. I thought I'd add him getting the new ones here. It seemed fitting.