Sometimes, I wonder if I was born under a bad star, It had been one of the more comment thoughts that flitted through Lelouch's head as he sat silently through history class, not interested in his teacher's glossed and shiny version of Britannia's so-called glorious history. A history, he reminded himself, he was actively trying to change. But turning back the clock on a major empire's reign was easier said than done. Especially if said empire birthed, raised and exiled you all in one fell swoop.
(Or so it felt, the halcyon years of his childhood meshing seamlessly into the blood-darkened days of his adolescence to the young man he had become now, jaded and bitter at the age of seventeen.)
Still, Lelouch thought nonchalantly as he walked to his next class, he had taken this series of responsibilities upon himself. The death of his mother, the cruelties of his father, the happiness of his sister: these threads lay in his open hands, waiting to be twisted and torn at his discretion. These, coupled with the pressures of attending school and fitting in with his peers while maintaining his role as Zero, savior of the Japanese (not Eleven!) people, would be enough to break a lesser man. But Lelouch was no 'lesser man', and in a perverse way, he had his father to thank for that.
And Nunnally, of course, to keep him gentle and fair when needed, he thought as he passed by his sister in the hallway, Sayoko at her side as usual. After their mother's death, all little Nunnally had ever wished for was a nicer, safer world where there would be peace. Every time he saw her, it was a reminder of the promise he had made to recreate the world just so.
Promises like that are hard to keep when the world is baying for your blood.
After school, Lelouch Lamperouge does the following: checks out a couple books from the academy's library before it closes for a paper, drops off a student council report at Milly's house, goes home to have dinner with Nunnally and Sayoko, then leaves for a study date with some other students from his literature class. He leaves the house not with his school satchel but with a large briefcase, and a green-haired girl at his side. They slip out into the darkness, until their bodies are encased by the shadows, protecting their every move.
This is his every night since he vowed to make the world an ideal place for Nunnally; this is the reality of the symbol of hope for Japan, Zero. Tonight, a half dozen Japanese civilians who had been taken prisoner by Cornelia are set to be transferred to a prison ward outside the city. They are about to be paid a visit by the Black Knights themselves. It will be a battle of Knightmare Frames, a clash of steel opposing steel. People will die, people will be saved, and no one will say thank you to Lelouch, because this is what he does, not what is asked of him.
This is what he does, not what is asked of him. He is a knight of necessity, although the world, his family, his life does not necessarily want him any longer. He perpetually smells of blood and smoke, of spirits better left excised in the night.
But tonight, with the aid of a witch and a life stolen from death, he will set the will of Japan aflame once more. He will send a shiver down the collective spine of Britannia's royal regime. He shouts orders, gives directions, watches the uniform-clad Black Knights scurry around efficiently at his biding.
At Zero's command, the fleet of soldiers disappear into the night sky.