Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass. It belongs to Clamp and Sunrise. The idea of a smoker!Suzaku comes from Serena the Hikari of Love's SuzaLulu fanfiction called Disconnected Modem. I highly recommend that fanfiction, it's worth a read :D
"Suzaku! Suzaku are you alright? Get up! Damn it, they're getting away..."
He felt Kallen prop his body up against her shoulder. She was scowling, bitter with the result of their appointment. Although they had won the duel, they had failed to reach their objective of capturing the two Holy Assassins.
Kallen began to swear productively under her breath. If Suzaku hadn't known better, he could've sworn that there were bitter tears threatening to leak from within the corner of her eyes. He was too dizzy to tell. Damn…
The images were fuzzy in his mind. Numbing pain made him want to vomit; his world was spinning out of control because of whatever that kid had done. He wanted to fall over and just let the ringing in his head stop. Damn, he couldn't remember a time when he had felt this bad for years. The sheer impossibility of it registered in his mind, repeating over and over again that it was just a fluke, nothing major.
Just what had that V.V. done to him a few moments ago? There had been a red tinge to that kid's eyes, and suddenly Suzaku felt himself stuck to the wall. He hadn't seen such a strange ability from anyone but C.C. Perhaps C.C. and V.V. were the same type of people? They did share the annoying habit of going by their initials after all…
Time must've passed by, because Suzaku felt the waves of dizziness lift, as he stood up, not even wincing at the large gash on his side (courtesy of V.V.) and then glaring down at his feet, turning to the nearest person he could see. His wounds were tended to. Obviously Kallen had tended to them.
They were still at the docks. The bodies of their fallen comrades were lined by the boat that Zero had gotten for them. In the original plan, Suzaku and Kallen would've taken the boat and their hostages straight to Zero. Now, the boat seemed like a trip right into the confirmation of their failure.
The memories came rushing back. The duel, the fight, the capture, the explosions, the getaway, the stench of failure…
They had never failed a mission from Zero before.
Damn it. This wasn't supposed to happen. Damn it. How could he claim to have the power to liberate Japan when he was too weak to get his hands on two measly Britannian Assassins?!
Kallen was sitting by the foot of the dock, body submerged in water. Her head rushed up from beneath the surface of the black sea, as she rolled back her head and gave a bitter laugh.
"Some Black Knights we are, huh?" Kallen chuckled darkly at herself.
He sank to his knees, torn between beating himself up for his mistake or just going off into a rampage and killing someone. The frustration was a snake uncoiling from around his body, threatening to strangle anyone who got close.
"Where are they?" Suzaku muttered in a low voice, getting up to his feet. "We're going after them…"
He was about to fall down but, stubbornly, he kept his legs upright.
"Suzaku…," Kallen said warily, "They're gone."
No… No they couldn't be gone. He couldn't just fail… If Zero knew, if Toudou knew… damn it, if…
Her voice spoke of nothing but utter defeat and complete conviction to get her hands on Gino the next time she saw him. "We'll find them again. For now we need to bury our comrades, and treat your wound. I already called Zero. He's coming to get us."
"No!" Suzaku shouted, "I can find them! I can complete the mission! I'm fine, don't let Zero come and pick us up like, like children. We're his aces! We're going to help him change the world, we can't be held back by these two—"
"Suzaku."
That voice. Suzaku tensed—afraid to move. He knew that voice. He knew what it meant. He turned around.
There was Zero, standing right behind them. In the distance was a truck to transport them to the next location. Still as a mountain, Zero merely watched them (or at least, it felt like he was watching them. You could never tell with that mask of his), his long black cape flowing behind him like a piece of the night sky. He looked every bit like the hero of comic books, one who came to save the people from the tyranny of evil villains and villainesses.
For shame, Suzaku couldn't bring himself to look up at Zero, at the man he revered for so many years, at the symbol of his revenge. He couldn't.
Instead, he fell to his knees, and then he whispered a small "I'm sorry."
Walk On In
6 –Rest-
"What's going on here?"
The question rang through the room, an echo which would remain unanswered, though asked a hundred times over. It was a run-down apartment, unusual for V.V. who Gino knew favoured classy hotel rooms and clubs where no children (the irony never failed to amuse him) were allowed to venture. Gino hadn't paid too much attention to what area of the city it was in, concentrating more on the driving and his worry for Rolo and Prince Lelouch. He knew that it wasn't in the Shinjuku ghetto, and that it was near the outskirts of the Tokyo Settlement. The apartment reeked of something smelly—Gino didn't even want to know what it was.
Orbs reflected back at him eerily. The room, enshrouded in shadow and ripped curtains, topped with its half-eaten furniture and dusty floors suggested that no one lived in it until now. Well, from the lack of dust in the living room and kitchen, Gino could presume that perhaps V.V. had been lodging here for a time but hadn't seen it important to clean the place up. This either meant that V.V. didn't mean to stay here for long or that he was doing this on purpose.
Lying on the sofa, Rolo breathed heavily, wounds tended to by Gino. He thanked god that they were nothing serious or life-threatening. The boy would only need some rest and then Gino would tell him to find Prince Lelouch and stay with him. Gino would deal with V.V. on his own. There was no need to get Rolo any more involved in this assassin's life. It was cursed.
In the darkened creepy run-down apartment, V.V. sat poised on the couch, those orbs reflecting back at Gino.
And then Gino was reminded, once more, of that flash of red he had seen just little over an hour ago, and that reflected a bullet…
Again, Gino asked his question.
V.V. pretended not to hear him. Looking up at his nails instead, as if they were more interesting, he said casually, "Are you sure you want to know the whole story, Weinberg?"
"Well, of course I do—"
"Maybe I'm not being clear enough…," V.V. shrugged to himself, a careless smirk in place. He pinned Gino with a steely gaze, "… I meant, do you want to hear everything? Not just the explanation for my powers, but everything—how I know Zero, what my connection to him is, what he wants… and, how he is related to your… precious little prince."
If there had been a cup in his hand, it would've shattered in a typical cliché shock. But all Gino could do was let his jaw drop at the shock of knowing that V.V. knew about Prince Lelouch. The prince was in danger. He had to kill anyone else who knew about the royal siblings being alive now or—
"Calm down, little knight," V.V. laughed haughtily, letting his elbows drape against the couch arm like a cat. "I won't lay a finger on your prince. I'm just giving you knowledge. Don't you want to know who the real enemy is? Who doesn't have your prince's best interests at heart?"
Gino stilled. There was something off about this situation… something V.V. wasn't telling him. He narrowed his eyes at the child (was he a child? Sometimes, Gino felt like V.V. was very much like an ageless creature. Sometimes, he was like an overgrown baby.), frowning.
"Why are you telling me this now? What's in it for you?"
Again, those eyes seemed to flash again, but this time, from something close to elation, as if V.V. was high (was he?), the child moved forward, opening his lips to whisper, "Because… I'm tired of this endless charade and I need your help to end it once and for all."
There was a pause. Nothing moved. No one breathed.
And V.V. smiled, the lack of lighting in the room making all of the twists in his face look awfully sinister, this child who talked like an adult.
"So," he began quite presumptuously, "do you want to hear the story?"
For some entirely stupid reason that Lelouch couldn't possibly know, Suzaku did not move from this spot, sprawled unruly, over Lelouch. His eyes, slurred in a way the ex-prince definitely didn't like, seemed to be looking past him to the ceiling, like a newborn babe. Either Suzaku hadn't heard what Lelouch had said at all (which Lelouch doubted) or the biker didn't want to move.
Either way, it annoyed him greatly, especially with the hysteria threatening to spill from his throat from sheer screaming common sense which dictated that the wound at Suzaku's side needed to be looked at—now.
"Suzaku," Lelouch glared at him with fiery orbs, issuing the order as a refined and vicious king in a low snarl, "I will never let you sleep in my bed again unless you do as you're told. Now get your lazy arse up to the mattress so that I can get a look at your wound or you'll be condemned to lumping on a soggy couch for the rest of your stay here!"
Now, Suzaku may had not understood him before in his present state, but he was certainly obeying like a nice little puppy—er, houseguest—once Lelouch made it absolutely clear that he would tolerate no tomfoolery. Faster than Lelouch could blink, Suzaku had stumbled to his feet and crawled up sloppily to the bed, sitting up as straight as he possibly could (which wasn't much, not while he was acting like a tipsy drunkard).
The (attempted) innocent look on Suzaku's face made Lelouch's stomach queasy in a way he couldn't explain, and then he straightened himself up and with all of the refined dignity he had left inside him, stood over Suzaku like a pushy doctor. The calculating persona of Lelouch slipped on easily as it did when he had been attacked by Mao early today, and he immediately put his hand on Suzaku's chest, looking for the wound.
Suzaku giggled.
Lelouch paused, about to lift up Suzaku's shirt in his inspection, and raised a clearly irritated eyebrow at his 'patient.'
Noticing the odd look he was being given, Suzaku hastily explained (in a very hard to decipher mumble), "…it feels funny."
Another damned giggle emerged from Suzaku's lips. Growling, and trying to glare away his own rising scarlet blush, Lelouch tugged at Suzaku's shirt, his pale hands meeting Suzaku's tanned and very toned torso.
His eyes widened in slight surprise at the well-shaped upper body that the Japanese boy hid beneath all of his gangly and unsightly leather jackets. It was clear that Suzaku worked out… and it definitely showed. Lelouch couldn't describe it, how solid his fingers felt against the build of Suzaku's torso and the flat of his stomach. He found himself letting the tips of his hands linger for longer than necessary over the ripples of Suzaku's muscled chest, before he scowled inwardly at himself for dawdling while there were more important matters to attend to than this, and proceeded to continue looking for the blood he had felt earlier.
Once more, Suzaku let out a choked giggle and then a light sigh.
"Your hands feel cold," Suzaku said bluntly, though Lelouch would overlook his idiotic remarks for now, given his state of mind.
Still, it made him go pink once more. He glared at Suzaku, fighting the urge to pinch his skin for payback, even if he was an injured person.
Though Suzaku's chest was really did have a nice glow to it against the moonlight coming from the window, making him look more solid and ethereal yet—whoa, stop! What the hell was Lelouch doing, sneaking glances back towards Suzaku's damn chest?! Every man obviously had the same build, though probably not as nicely tanned as Suzaku's or as well-sculpted yet—not again! This was it! He was not going to think about Suzaku's very alluring—not alluring!—chest!
…He just wasn't used to seeing exposed skin given his tight upbringing.
(An eleven-year old Lelouch Lamperouge sat down looking through a picture book, when he came across a picture with a woman wearing a tank top and khakis, while the man across from her was merely shirtless because he was about to go swimming at the beach.
Cue the entrance of Sayoko-san the super protective parent blocker!
"Lelouch-sama! What are you reading?!" she screeched, snatching the picture book away from the poor boy in an instant, "Just look at the amount of skin that they're showing! They published this as a children's book?! What heresy! I'll go burn it right away!"
"But Sayoko-san! I need it to do a book report—"
"Read this instead."
A book titled 'Molly the Rabbit' was handed to him instead. There were cute little animals in it. Hardly a book for an eleven-year old.
At least this explained Sayoko-san's dislike of C.C.'s clothing.)
Anyways, Lelouch stopped his current train of thought, as he came upon a bundle of bandages at Suzaku's side, wrapped expertly with obvious care. Someone (or maybe it was Suzaku himself) had already seen to the wound.
Already, Lelouch felt slightly foolish, standing over Suzaku, lifting up the biker's shirt, and staring blankly at the wound that didn't need to be treated, because it already was.
The blood… Lelouch had sworn that he had felt some blood somewhere…
The side of Suzaku's leather jacket touched against Lelouch's hand and he felt the dark dampness of gushing red. Immediately, Lelouch pulled the jacket off of Suzaku, inspecting the thick blood stains that were clearly there.
Blood, still slightly fresh, worn from the jacket onto Lelouch's pale fingertips, shone as clear as day in the moonlit room. He couldn't tell, but it was slightly obvious that the blood was a remainder from the moment Suzaku had gained his injury, having yet to be washed out.
Even so, the sight of it filled Lelouch with a shuddering revulsion which seemed to overtake Lelouch like a swooping phantom. He didn't think that he had ever felt so enraged since the incident, or so disturbingly… distraught. He felt everything go still, and then, Lelouch did nothing but glower darkly at the biker sitting on his bed.
"…What is this?" Lelouch scowled at his patient, who was now humming a Japanese children's song 'Kagome, Kagome' to himself.
Instantly a carefree smile, a sloppy and blurred one which didn't seem to fit into this situation, flashed across Suzaku's face, "Oh it's nothing. I just got nearly stabbed, well, stabbed, but it was no big deal because I'll get them eventually—"
"…What?! You got stabbed?! What the hell were you—"
"Kallen patched me up just fine, Lu!" Suzaku gave out that sickening giggle once more, "Totally minor, ya know? I'll be fine… I was just feeling pissed off so I had a few drinks and then I wanted to see you so I climbed through the window and—"
"Wait, wait, you had a few drinks?! (That bastard that dared to call himself a father lifted up another glass. He leaned over Lelouch and Nunnally's cowering forms, a breath of wretched alcohol-tinged breath clouding over them. If hell was a place, Lelouch was certain it smelled like this—fear and alcohol.) Right after you nearly got killed?! And you didn't even—"
"Actually, more like twenty or something but—"
"Oh that just makes me feel even better, you had twenty drinks. Just great. Now, uh, when were you planning on coming back to the house, Suzaku, huh? When you passed out?! Here I am worrying my butt off over you, when you were busy drinking it up at a bar of all places and now—"
There was a red tinge to Suzaku's face that Lelouch hadn't taken notice to before, his dulled eyes, glazed over by the influence of drink, seemed to dimmer at once at Lelouch's fired words. His aura darkened and returned to its former state of mind that it had been just after the duel—defeated, angry and vengeful. Soon the biker was tottering to his feet, placing a hand on Lelouch's shoulder, saying, "Lelouch I—"
"Don't touch me!" Lelouch backed away immediately, "It's one thing for you to smoke in this house but drinking until you're dead doesn't—"
"I failed alright?! I couldn't do one simple mission! I fucking failed and now, I don't think I can even die to redeem myself! I'm a fucking failure!" Suzaku roared at him, holding Lelouch firmly by both shoulders.
(Surprisingly enough, downstairs, Sayoko-san and Jeremiah-kun were busy watching a tutorial about how to hunt down a stalker using a machine gun, downloaded from the internet, and, thus, didn't hear the sudden outburst coming from Lelouch's room. C.C., however, lifted up her eyebrows, and muttered, 'Huh, he's home' and then continued to flip through another magazine.)
All was quiet. The heavy breathing from exhaling from Suzaku's chest, and Lelouch's own quiet ones, filled the silence desperately like an overwhelming drug. Suzaku's face, livid and illuminated by the pale light, was wild, deranged, the face of a man who had never known failure, getting his first taste of it.
And Lelouch looked as indifferent to it all as when Mao had tried to shoot him a bullet. The scar on Lelouch's cheek tingled under the pressure.
They merely stared at each other—the violet, calm and calculating gaze against the wild and lost, yet helpless, green.
Thoughts raced. In Lelouch's mind, they were processing shock and horror, yet instances of memory would accompany them. In Suzaku's, only despair and a ripping terror known as self-hatred. They were at a crossroads, unable to speak.
It was Lelouch, who clicked together the new pieces of the puzzle into his head, and he narrowed his eyes at his opponent.
"So…," after what seemed like eons, Lelouch spoke out coldly, "just because you failed once, you're going to give up what's precious to you?"
Wild eyes seemed to brighten in tinges of harsh emotions when he spoke.
Yet Lelouch continued on, as if he hadn't noticed.
"You may have failed once, Suzaku, but that does not make you a failure. Failures are those who refuse to stand when they are first faced with defeat. Those who play to win are those who learn from their past defeats, and use that knowledge to crush their future foes. No matter what the obstacles, they see to their chosen paths to the very end, and they never give up. And you, Suzaku Kururugi, are not a failure."
He stepped forward, and Suzaku (this wild and fiery lost child that Lelouch had never suspected the carefree Suzaku to have within him) actually heightened his breath, about to back away. And then Lelouch lifted up his arms…
…And he gently put them over Suzaku's shoulders, in a featherlike embrace, his lips gracing over Suzaku's ear while he finally let his hardened mask melt away (though Suzaku couldn't see it) into a gentle and kind expression.
A startled gasp made its way from Suzaku's throat, and then tanned arms moved their way up to engulf the pale Britannian in a warm embrace. They stood like that, holding each other, for a very long time, as if afraid to break the chilling silence and the warmth of arms around one another. The very hold and assurance of another body to be pressed against was like an anchor to a safe haven, something intimate that neither had indulged in for more than a lifetime.
Lelouch didn't even know why he was doing this. It was just… now of all times… he felt that he had to follow through with his impulsive decisions. Whenever he saw helpless eyes, he just couldn't help it. Something within him melted inside at the sight of such fragility. Something within him reached out before Lelouch had time to think of it.
Like now.
Suzaku was still, returning the embrace carefully, as if he were afraid it might break. Slowly, he asked in a slurred voice, one that slightly bothered Lelouch, "… why?"
The ex-prince blinked, waiting for the biker to elaborate. When the biker did not, it did not take long for the Britannian to figure out what Suzaku meant, and even Lelouch didn't quite know how to answer it. How was he to explain that he had felt so indignant when Suzaku had insulted himself? How was he to explain that he had always subconsciously (whether he wanted to admit it or not) admired Suzaku for his bright nature and smiles? How he was he to explain that he actually… liked that part of the idiot?
He couldn't.
So, he settled for something vaguer—more honest. It was something that he had never really admitted of himself.
"…Because you're stronger than this," Lelouch whispered to him, pausing before going on, "strong enough to resist succumbing to the weakness of drugs or alcohol."
(Lelouch closed his eyes, holding Nunnally's hand tightly just as that man was about to throw his fists towards them. When he looked up, it was his mother who stood over them, her back bleeding. A shattered bottle of Britannia's finest wine lay smashed all over the ground.)
"If there is anyone who could be called a failure…," Lelouch's kind and calm voice lowered to a dying sigh.
(He crept over to the frail body, crushed by the trees and roots, unable to contain any tears. "…Nunnally…?" came the frightened whisper, "Nunnally… Nunnally! Please… please don't die!")
"It's me," Lelouch finished quietly, his voice barely a whisper, "and I know this best."
Unnoticed to Lelouch, Suzaku allowed his arms to tighten around Lelouch's waist, pulling the thin boy closer to him. They were quiet again—silence seemed to habitually follow the pair whenever they spent time together—but this time, this quietness had a calming gesture to it.
But it wasn't long before the silence was disrupted.
"Le…Lelouch…?" Suzaku's voice, sounding surprisingly fatigued and worn-out, crept into the Britannian's ears.
"Hm?" He absentmindedly let his attention return.
"I… I feel dizzy…"
Lelouch froze, "Dizzy? Dizzy how? Do you have a fever? Is it the alcohol?"
"Just… I want to fall over…"
"Get back on the bed, Suzaku. I'll go get Sayoko-san, we'll phone a doctor. You must be ill—"
"No!" Suzaku tightened his arms around him, refusing to release his hold, "I don't trust doctors! Toudou always told me to avoid them! I can't let… can't let…"
To Lelouch's growing panic, Suzaku fell over on to the mattress, part of his feet strewing off the side of it like dangling leaves off of a stem.
Oh shit, thought Lelouch.
Instantly, he was by Suzaku's side, pulling up the biker's legs so that they lay completely on the mattress, and then began his colossal search for a first aid kit. He feared that the wounds might've reopened, or worse. And if Suzaku didn't want to get any professional medical help, then Lelouch would just have to take care of him by himself.
Lelouch began to run to and fro without any sense of where to go, his head on a panic-mode autopilot.
Blankets—where were the damn blankets? Tripping over a few carelessly strewn clothes on the floor, dropped from his earlier shock, Lelouch hissed out in something akin to a fit as his fingers scraped over the edge of his drawers. Never mind the extremely inconvenient scrapes and bruises Lelouch seemed to be accumulating in his hurried attempts to gather the needed supplies to tend to one annoying (and delirious) Japanese biker's wounds, he needed to find the first aid kit and more blankets, a spare change of clothes for the sweating body on his bed, maybe some water to cool that fever…
Tumbling forward, Lelouch found his face meeting its best friend—the floor—once more. His foot had gotten twisted in the confines of another fallen shirt that Lelouch had not noticed in his hurried movements. It took all of the resolve within Lelouch not to groan in aggravation at himself for being so foolishly clumsy, before remembering the task at hand, and forcing himself back up again. His hand reached up for an ice pack, and a first aid kit shoved on top of his drawer. His overzealous guardians, Sayoko and Jeremiah, always insisted on having such precautionary measures in every room. Lelouch had never been so grateful for these measures since the 'incident' had occurred so many years ago.
Behind him, on the bed, lay Suzaku Kururugi, his tousled curls and sweating face making him look more vulnerable by the second. Seeing the biker this way, made the pit of Lelouch's stomach twist uncomfortably because this just seemed so… wrong. Suzaku was a strong, bright and just… a happy person, to Lelouch. How could he look so fragile and... and so weak looking in just a few hours? That dazed look on the Japanese boy's face, it just didn't belong there. The sight of Suzaku's pained face made Lelouch's heart ache in a way that he had never experienced before…
It hurt—and Lelouch was equally frustrated not knowing the reason why.
He swore out loud to himself, striding across the room in a few giant steps, letting the blankets in his hand flutter aloud like a pair of enormous wings, covering the shivering biker's body in a snug cocoon. Suzaku, curling up subconsciously against the added warmth of the new layers of bed sheets, muttered words incoherently under his breath. Lelouch's heart skipped a beat upon hearing the rushed whispers. Without being aware of it, Lelouch leaned forward, violet eyes peering intensely at the Japanese biker on the bed, as if he might burn up and disappear.
Loud hacking coughs made Lelouch jump down to his knees, hands pressed against Suzaku's forehead, instantly, checking for any heightened fevers.
Just as suddenly, the coughs died down, and Suzaku mumbled softly against Lelouch's hand. The biker (more like some overgrown dog) turned against the pillows, looking quite small and silly (adorable) against the layers of soft blankets.
"Suzaku…," Lelouch let the name hiss out of his mouth in bated wind, but in reality, his shoulders sloped downwards and he relaxed, watching the biker breathe in calmer breaths. His eyes softened, a tired smile slipping across thin lips. He shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself, kneeling against the bed and letting a stray hand brush (almost) affectionately over the Japanese biker's messy auburn locks.
To Lelouch's soft surprise, they were very soft and soothing to touch. He let his fingers comb through the caramel curls a few times more until he didn't even have to think about it to do so. As natural as telling his heart to keeping beating in his chest, his brain just let go.
He sighed softly, his head against the soft mattress and close to Suzaku's slumbering body.
"You're an idiot, you know that…? You promised that you wouldn't get hurt. You've had me going through more mood changes than I usually do in a month…" Lelouch said quietly to a reply of gentle snores. He waited, though he knew that Suzaku was too drunken and exhausted in a land of dreams to answer. Then he let himself smile against the mattress, listening only to the rhythm of his fingers combing through Suzaku's soft locks, a lulling and nourishing lullaby.
He let himself keep talking quietly, as if the sleeping biker could answer him back.
"…You could have told me you had a minor injury and had already patched it up… then I wouldn't have panicked so much," he continued quietly, his lecture sounding out only to the walls and corners of his bedroom. "And to think that you even had the nerve to get drunk before coming…," He paused, and smiled softly again, "…before coming back. No wonder you collapsed and climbed in through the window. Mind you," he added in a more affectionate, though patronizing, tone, "when you wake up, I am not letting you off with an apology. You owe me, Suzaku Kururugi, do you hear?"
Soft snores and breathing answered him. He continued to stroke Suzaku's curly locks of hair, revelling in the soothing gesture.
"…I wonder why you do that…?" Lelouch said quietly.
More quiet snores.
"Why do you hate yourself, Suzaku Kururugi?"
The pot on the stove was beginning to heat up. Steam rose from the edges of the lid, threatening to spill the contents of the metal container all over the counter and the oven. Beside it, by the rear, the rice cooker had just finished cooking. A red light on the dial told anyone who passed that the rice was ready to eat. The counter itself was a mess, powder and bits of dough all over a cutting board. Rice ball clumps were set on a large pan, soon to be steamed for hungry customers the next day.
But Ohgi was not concerned with that at the moment. No, presently, he was more occupied with worried thoughts about a certain loyal customer and friend (despite Ohgi's ties to the Black Knights) who had phoned in a hurry this evening. Lelouch Lamperouge had never called before. Ohgi had been surprised when he had picked up the phone. But the surprise had quickly washed away when Ohgi realized just how… reckless and frantic the young student had sounded. It had been alarming, considering Lelouch's usual blasé demeanour. Yes, he had known the young boy to be kind to other Japanese and respect them, but he never expected Lelouch Lamperouge to have such a… a caring side to him.
However, that wasn't the problem.
The problem was Suzaku. Why in the world had Lelouch been looking for Suzaku? From the tone of Lelouch's voice there was no doubt in Ohgi's head that he was truly worried about Kururugi. The degree of emotion that Ohgi heard was authentic; there was no way that Lelouch could've dramatized the phone call. So that left two more questions: How was Lelouch connected to Suzaku, and what kind of relationship did they have?
More importantly… how much did Lelouch know about Suzaku and the Black Knights?
Ohgi frowned to himself uneasily, leaning against the kitchen wall. Conflicted between his fondness over Lelouch and Zero's orders to terminate any suspicious Britannians who even received an inkling of information about eh Black Knights, Ohgi wondered what course of action he should set out to do. Lelouch was a very kind student (despite how much the boy tried to hide it) and Ohgi didn't believe in involving civilians in a political conflict, no matter what the reason. At the same time, he couldn't afford to let any leaking of their plans get to the authorities. If Suzaku was careless around Lelouch and let something slip then it'd be all over. There was also Suzaku himself to consider. Ohgi had not seen Suzaku so… enthralled and truly happy in a long time.
Did he want to ruin that?
Then, Ohgi flushed, he remembered the lingering of the phone call. How Lelouch had yelped and Ohgi had asked him what was wrong. There had been no answer… and then Ohgi had heard Suzaku speaking.
("…Suzaku?" Ohgi had heard Lelouch say after the boy had yelped. "Wait. What are you doing here? I locked the door, you…"
There was a pause and then Ohgi head Lelouch say, "You didn't come in to my bedroom through the window, did you?"
Needless to say that Ohgi had hung up, blushing productively from all the implications, as soon as he heard Suzaku answer with a slurred "yes.")
It was obvious that the two had some kind of romantic relationship of some kind, an issue that Ohgi would definitely talk to Suzaku about much later in private.
Something about the birds and the bees, safe intercourse, the whole shebang, Ohgi blushed, seeing as Suzaku had no other parental figures to tell him of such things.
He didn't want Zero to know about Lelouch Lamperouge, and he was sure that Suzaku didn't either. The boy didn't deserve to be caught up in a rebellion. It wasn't right. They would have to protect their own identities and Lelouch at the same time. Lelouch wasn't a tool to be used; he had become Ohgi's friend, someone who had introduced him to the love of his life, Viletta. So at the very least, Ohgi would keep quiet and watch out for them both.
He just hoped that Zero wouldn't find out.
There was no telling how Zero would act once he learned about Lelouch.
"No… Don't do it… leave him alone!"
The harsh moan from beneath the covers startled Lelouch out of his meditative state, making him turn his attention to the thrashing biker in front of him. Scratch Suzaku's state earlier when he had climbed through Lelouch's bedroom window, this was ten times worse, and Lelouch had no idea what was going on.
"Stop it… Stop shooting him or I'll kill you!" Suzaku yelled out, lifting his neck, eyes scrunched up shut, adrift in a nightmarish world that he was dreaming to life.
Instantly, Lelouch let his hands slide to the sides of Suzaku's face and then to Suzaku's arms. It took some difficulty, seeing as the Japanese biker was being extremely uncooperative in his deep slumber, thrashing against the heavy protection of the warm blankets and unseen monsters, but Lelouch's fingers managed to find Suzaku's. In a few seconds, Lelouch had his hands intertwined over Suzaku's, rubbing a thumb back and forth against the palm of Suzaku's hand to calm him and to chase away whatever monsters lurked in his sleep.
Immediately, Suzaku's movements became less rash. But still, he seemed to shrink back against the fluffy mountain of pillows, like a mere child, and mumbling into the air, making Lelouch's heart flutter in anxious pain.
"…No…," Suzaku whispered so quietly that Lelouch had thought he might've imagined it, "please… please don't…"
"Stop," He tightened his grip around Suzaku's palm, even though it was impossible for Suzaku to respond to him now. "Stop it, Suzaku. It's over. You're alright now. You're here. It's going to be ok," He said as sternly as he possibly could, before he felt his throat go dry and then he had to swallow before speaking to Suzaku again, continuing, "So don't… don't beg from them. It's going to be alright."
His grip, though growing sweaty, tightened even more against the feel of Suzaku's palm.
Seeing Suzaku like this, was killing him.
At last, Suzaku was still. The sleep talking had subsided for now, but Lelouch kept himself wary and awake lest it return once more. The ex-prince stayed kneeling by the bed, holding on to his houseguest's hand, and watching said-houseguest return to peaceful and steady slumber once more.
It was slightly ironic, an exiled prince doing such a thing for a commoner.
Then again, Lelouch had stopped caring about such things and royal statuses since the incident. He was also used to doing this, more times than ever necessary in a young teenager's life. Providing comfort and health care, holding someone's hand when they were ill in bed and never letting go… they were the sort of things Lelouch always used to do for his mother, when she was alive in Britannia, and his sister, whenever she had a relapse of serious flu or surgery.
Maybe that was why it came so naturally to him. He had performed the same routine by himself for his beloved family members (refusing other's help) countless times.
But he'd never done this for anyone else before.
Before he could think further about it, the sound of rustling sheets alerted Lelouch to a certain Japanese biker's warm eyes staring into his for the past half-hour.
"…You're awake," Lelouch said simply, feeling quite self-conscious, now that he had a fully aware audience watching him.
Suzaku beamed at him, making Lelouch want to avert his eyes. But he didn't. After a few seconds, Suzaku (still exhausted) mumbled, "… Feeling much better thanks to you."
An eye roll and a scoff answered him back, "You weren't even ill, Suzaku. You went out for too many drinks at the bar after your little 'appointment' and then passed out in my bedroom on top of me. I hardly lifted a finger to help you."
Lelouch released his hold on Suzaku's palm, but found that Suzaku's hands refused to let him go. He looked up inquiringly at him.
"No," Suzaku protested vehemently, pulling Lelouch's hands closer to him, "you helped me a lot. Things didn't go so well today at the 'appointment' and I… I was irresponsible and decided drink away my troubles after talking to my boss… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you…," Suzaku trailed off, his eyes glazing over into a far-off and bitter look.
It startled Lelouch, how much Suzaku could transform from the happy Suzaku he knew and greeted every day, to this bitter stranger, one who he only saw rare glimpses of…
The one he was staring at presently.
He stood up, though it was hard to, seeing as Suzaku's grip on his hand was now the one that refused to loosen, ready to go to the living room and claim the couch.
"Where are you going?" Suzaku asked, slightly alarmed.
"Downstairs to sleep. You're going to have a bad hangover in the morning, and I have to change your bandages then as well. We both need our rest. I think you could use the bed tonight, Suzaku," Lelouch said aloofly.
"No, stay with me tonight. I don't… I don't want to be…"
I don't want to be alone—at least not tonight.
Suzaku didn't need to speak any further. Lelouch understood exactly what Suzaku was trying to tell him.
It didn't take long. He slipped into his night clothes (after convincing Suzaku that he wasn't going to go anywhere and the biker reluctantly let go of his hand) and then crawled under the heavy layers of covers beside the biker, whose eyes were being lulled back to sweet slumber.
As usual, Suzaku's arms tried to snake their way around Lelouch's waist. He frowned, but this time (and only this time, because Suzaku was being so delirious) allowed it, letting the biker breathe in the scent of Lelouch's shampoo. The whiff of alcohol, still apparent in the smell of Suzaku's breath, made Lelouch wrinkle his nose and he shifted a little bit away from the biker, in quiet contemplation.
The blankets rustled again, and Lelouch felt something wet against his cheek, like water. Suspiciously and with worry, he craned his head to look over at Suzaku, but the biker had turned his face at such an angle that Lelouch couldn't the expression on his face.
He scowled. If ever he wanted to know what that moronic biker was thinking, after all that had happened today, it was now.
"…Suzaku?"
It was quiet. The shuffling noises he heard stopped. Suzaku didn't answer back. Maybe he was already asleep again.
Despite himself, Lelouch didn't know what to feel. Today he had been thrown into an encounter with a crazy stalker and just barely managed to get away. Then Suzaku had come through the window, collapsed on top of him, muttering about blood, thus making Lelouch talk of hospitals and learning of Suzaku's avoidance of them. After yelling at Suzaku to get on the bed and let Lelouch take care of him, he had discovered that Suzaku's wound was already treated and that Suzaku was just drunk, not seriously hurt.
Of course, there was also Suzaku's nightmare.
Honestly… there was so much that Lelouch didn't know about Suzaku. Was his gang life that dangerous? Did his status as an 'Eleven' in Area 11 affect things at all? Was his life in peril today? Why the hell didn't Suzaku call or anything? Didn't he realize that Lelouch would—not worry—but... but be... be what?
"Lelouch…?" Suzaku said softly, his chin resting on Lelouch's head.
Lelouch's thoughts went into a standstill. It didn't take long for the ex-prince to compose himself and answer, "What is it?"
"…I'm glad you're here," replied the biker very softly.
He blinked against Suzaku's chest, wondering why the biker had said such a thing or why such warmth surged inside of him upon hearing them. Was it related to the 'appointment' which Lelouch strongly suspected was a dangerous brawl of some kind that Suzaku must have lost (why else would he have gotten himself dead drunk?).
Quietly, Lelouch shook his head, only to look up at the dormant ceiling lights above him. He thought about the panic that he had experienced today, all of his trials and his past. He thought of what could've been horrific enough to make Suzaku scream in his sleep, and revert back to total vulnerability in front of him. He wondered how many ghosts Suzaku carried with him, and if they were as haunting as Lelouch's ghosts. He wondered how Suzaku could seem so cheerful around Lelouch, when in reality; this man was a hardened Japanese biker fighting an enemy too vast to be overpowered by one man alone, armed with weapons that were as old as resentment itself…
He buried his head against Suzaku's chest, not caring anymore about personal appearance. He had shown Suzaku a lot more of his indignant side than was necessary, adding one more to the list would do him no harm. Then Lelouch allowed his body to surrender to the creeping sleep coming upon him, and whispered back.
"…I'm glad you're ok, Suzaku."
And that was the entire truth of it all.
It was perfectly acceptable to just lay like this with him. Lelouch could get mad at the idiot tomorrow. For now, he could just let this moment be.
Beside him, he did not see the brightened, and yet bittersweet, smile on the biker's face, against tear filled eyes.
The club was bristling with vagrants and juveniles of all kinds, sultry looking women and gamblers as well. Bulky, built-up gangsters flocked around the pool tables, jeering over the latest victories and losses while downing a couple of beers or two. Their canine and feral grins flashed in the damp lighting, reflected by the oak trimmed walls and heavy shadows by the counter. Several groups of ladies huddled around rich-looking Britannians, who wasted no time flaunting their noble status and riches. High pitched giggles automatically erupted every couple of minutes at every word he said, even if it wasn't particularly amusing. They were attracted to power.
By the bar however, sat the untouchables. The lone figures that seemed permanently stationed by on their stools, lost in the wry colours of the glass came to this place to forget all self. The broken hearted, the jobless, the homeless, the bankrupt, the poor, the addicts and more—they all sought solace within the simple action of drinking the subtle substance to their hearts content. Among reality, they were the lowest of the low, the desperate seeking happiness from an illusion which brought no results—yet among indulgence, they were happily drowning in their fantasies, their plights and their sorrows.
This was exactly what Suzaku Kururugi came here to do—drown in alcohol.
Surreal, as if he were walking in a bad dream, Suzaku stormed through the doors of the club, his temper giving off showers of flaring fury and then took a place by the scarcely populated bar stools. The barkeeper, a faceless (to Suzaku) Japanese man stared him up and down before sighing from what was most likely pity. Suzaku didn't have a chance to seethe at the barkeeper to give him a drink. Instantly, the barkeeper slid Suzaku a large bottle of (now banned and very rare) Japanese sake.
When Suzaku raised an eyebrow at him, demanding where the barkeeper had gotten such a rare Japanese treasure, the barkeeper merely shrugged and muttered something about Suzaku looking like he needed it.
Hell knew that he did.
The memories flooded back to him. How Zero had the audacity to clap Suzaku on the shoulder and then tell him that it was actually ok that he and Kallen had not managed to achieve their mission goal! He had not been angry, or upset—merely disappointed. He told Suzaku to get some rest, to prepare for the Lancelot mission and then just… left! Zero had just left without punishing Suzaku or Kallen for their failures and somehow—that disappointment and casual brush-off of what was supposed to be an important task—was worse than any punishment.
Suzaku just wanted to die right there from shame. All of his life, he had failed. He failed at stopping his father from surrendering Japan to Britannia. He failed to help protect his father-figure Toudou and the other Holy Swords. He had now failed, before they had even begun Zero's rebellion, as a Black Knight.
Would he never get revenge or exact justice? Hell, he wanted a god to smite him with a thunderbolt right about now…
He downed his glass of sake immediately, angry eyes dimming under the influence of alcohol and self-depreciation. He hated himself. He wanted to redeem himself, his country… otherwise… otherwise he'd never prove his father wrong, he'd never avenge Toudou, he'd never amount to anything and he would always…
… be a failure.
(Genbu Kururugi stood, intimidating as ever, against the windows layered with blinds in a closed off office. Before him, a burly and defiant looking boy of stood in front of him, waiting.
The piece of paper, marked with insulting swishes of black ink, stared the Japanese Prime Minister in the face, taunting him. Slowly, the boy watched with growing apprehension as a frown formed on the man's gaunt face.
He waited for the words that he knew would come, no matter what. They always did.
"Only a few Bs and average statistics to show for your efforts at school, Suzaku? How unsightly of a future leader of Japan. Leave me, and go meditate on your failures. I have no time to speak with scum."
Hurt and bitterly frustrated, the boy stormed out of the office, hoping to never set foot there again.)
Suzaku snorted, remembering this strand of memory quite well. He downed more alcohol, hoping to wash away the memories. Despite it all, they kept coming back.
(Sharp pain across his face, a disheartening slap filled the air. The gasps and shock of his teachers did not escape him as he left the floor sting him as he fell. The boy crumpled against the dojo ground, daring not to cry. His father hated it when he cried.
And speaking of his father, Genbu Kururugi was hovering over him, holding the wooden sword that he had used to smack his son across the face with. His father's eyes were hard, unforgiving. It was like he was stone.
The jeers that came next were intended to hurt him while he was down, adding insult to injury very literally.
"I have left you alone in your lessons for only three weeks, and this is the progress that you have made? I am ashamed to call this failure my son. I demand to see some improvements in your training by the next week, or there will be consequences, boy."
The boy stood against the ground, though his eyes were sparking with rage, he did not dare to get up.)
Failure, huh? The name suited him. He wondered if someone would engrave it on his tombstone when he went and jumped off a cliff… How could he fail so easily? He was Zero's best… he had dedicated his life to this cause and yet—
"That's right. You're a failure."
Suzaku turned around. To his surprise, the club had disappeared, and he was floating above a deep dark ocean. Before him, stood Zero, who was facing him impassively, a mocking voice as he spoke to Suzaku. He was a dark figure against the reddened sky, which stretched out into forever, and seemed blotted out from the inexistent sun.
The very memory he had walked into... had changed into a twisted reality.
Eyes wide, Suzaku backed away, the words from his precious leader a very painful blow to his very being, "… No… No…"
"What's wrong, Suzaku? Didn't you want to hear me say it? I know you did. You're a glutton for punishment whenever you fail. I don't see why you're being such a hypocrite," Zero said, his mocking voice was poison to Suzaku's ears, like scorpions piercing their venom into his senses.
"It's no use lecturing him. The boy will merely diminish any chances he has of improving at anything. He fails at everything you try to teach him. It won't change now," another voice joined in the ridicule, a very familiar face.
He stumbled backwards, radiating hatred and loathing towards the newcomer, "Father."
Genbu wrinkled his nose at him, "If it isn't my son… the boy who tried to kill me with a knife before his teacher interfered."
Anger surged through him once more, "I should've succeeded in killing you! Maybe then Japan would still be an independent nation! Maybe then we'd still be fighting for our freedom, but on fairer terms internationally! Your death would probably have been for the best!"
Instead of looking insulted, his father actually had the audacity to look darkly amused, "And yet you failed at that task as well."
Suzaku had no words to rebuttal that statement, feeling the words weigh him down, making him feel heavier, sinking closer to the dark ocean…
"Yes, I agree…," another man appeared to make the oppressing duo into a group of three, surrounding Suzaku from all sides, "you even failed to save your precious mentor. I thought that I meant more to you than that, Suzaku."
"Toudou… No… I tried, I really did, but they—"
"Of course you tried," Zero lashed out at him, "But in the end, you failed!"
"That's all you've even done," Genbu snarled, from Suzaku's right, the words making Suzaku fall down another foot.
"All you've ever accomplished," Toudou added from behind.
Suzaku dangled in the air, so dangerously close to the ocean, his heart screaming and bleeding from the attacks against him. The three of his oppressors circled around him, their cruel laughter hanging in the air, like knifes in his back, in his heart, in his eyes, in his very fingers… He was screaming and no one could hear, he was trying to deny it all, that very word he detested all of his life, how he let everyone down and now—
"Stop it."
Looking up warily, his mouth dropped. Suzaku felt as if the whole world had just ended, as he saw the pale Britannian student standing between him and his three oppressors. A sudden plea built up in his heart, begging for this outcome to erase itself entirely.
"No… Lelouch, what are you doing here?" Suzaku yelled at him, "Get away! You'll get hurt, you'll be thrown into the sea to drown just like me, you'll—"
You'll be tainted, if you associate with me.
The strong burning violet gaze did not leave him, as Lelouch reached out to him, hand outstretched in a steady glower, "Stop this. Stop listening to them. Stop lowering your standards to match theirs."
What was this? Didn't Lelouch know what danger he was in? If Zero, Toudou or his father got to the boy then all would be lost… He'd lose Lelouch and he wouldn't be able to bare it if Lelouch got hurt because he had gotten involved in his past.
"You don't know anything! Just leave me alone! I'm fine, alone!"
"Hypocrite," Lelouch used the same word choice as Zero, "isn't that what I told you? You seemed so intent on being a part of my life, that you don't even see that it works both ways. I already am involved in this—more than you know."
The biker, dangling in the air just inches above the ocean, could barely suppress a gasp as Lelouch's fingers curled up around his, and the Britannian stood defiantly between him and the others, a smirk across his face.
"You insolent boy, we will destroy you!" Someone—Was it Zero? Was it his father or Genbu?—proclaimed aggressively towards the unfazed and indifferent Lelouch, who kept his position beside Suzaku.
"Lelouch!" Suzaku cried out, trying desperately to get the pale Britannian to turn towards him and realize what danger he was in, Suzaku's heart beating erratically in his chest, "Lelouch, move, they'll kill you!"
But Lelouch didn't move, and it only escalated Suzaku's panic. Why wasn't Lelouch moving? Why didn't Lelouch abandon him and run away? Why didn't Lelouch leave him alone? If Lelouch got hurt because him, he would never forgive himself, never recover because—
"Suzaku," Lelouch looked at him, his eyes so calm and glittering with an emotion that made Suzaku's chest swoon in overflowing emotion, "you are not a failure."
What kind of nonsense was Lelouch spouting out now—in the middle of a life threatening situation?
"What are you talking about? You can't possibly know that!" Suzaku shouted at him, angry that Lelouch was still standing there with him, angry at his uselessness, "I'll probably fail you too, Lelouch! You should just leave me while you still can!"
But this Lelouch was still passive, he smiled at Suzaku and it was infuriating him (Run, Lelouch! Suzaku's senses screamed). There were shadows behind Lelouch. Zero, Genbu and Toudou stepped closer, each holding a gun, raising them towards Lelouch and Suzaku. Now, more than ever, Suzaku's senses screamed at Lelouch to leave, run, go, before it was too late!
"There's one thing that you won't fail at, Suzaku," Lelouch continued on placidly, as the guns were raised, and the triggers were being pulled.
Suzaku's eyes widened, as the shots rang out, and then a pale body moved in front of him. He screamed as he envisioned that pale body leaked out with blood, running down his chest like ribbons.
The boy smiled up at him, blood trickling down his pinked lips, falling into the ocean, "You won't fail in protecting me."
The Japanese biker watched in horror as the boy was engulfed by the black ocean, swallowed whole, pale white enveloped by the black of the overstretching sea. And then Suzaku let out a bloodcurdling scream, which would shake the planets in the entire galaxy.
"LELOUCH!"
He woke up immediately, buried in a mound of blankets, and sweating beyond control from the rush of adrenaline and fear which circulated around his body. His heart was a beating African drum, continuing its accelerating thumping mercilessly, while his palms shook like quivering chords of a struck harp. For several minutes, he couldn't breath—or he wasn't aware that he was breathing, rather heavily. His mind raced, half-filled with reality and half-filled with the dream.
This was the last time Suzaku would get himself drunk. Obviously it gave the dreamless biker horrifying nightmares that he'd rather not deal with. Reaching for the sleeping Lelouch's hand to comfort himself with the Britannian student's presence, Suzaku's fingers met with unoccupied space and abandoned blankets.
Lelouch was gone.
Pain flooded Suzaku's body at the thought of Lelouch missing, especially after that nightmare. The biker checked the floor, in case he had accidentally kicked Lelouch out of the bed again. The floor was spotless, not a hint of Lelouch was there. Some dried bloodstains, from Suzaku's jacket, still marked the wooden floors. But other than that, there was no evidence that Lelouch was there.
Unable to control himself, thoughts of panic seized him. What if Lelouch had really gotten attacked or he was hurt? What if last night (Suzaku didn't really remember much at the moment, but he was sure the details would return to him soon enough) had just been a fleeting dream and Lelouch hadn't been home at all but had actually been kidnapped by a crazy stalker?! (Suzaku had no idea how close that scenario was to what Lelouch had gone through yesterday…)
Scrambling to his feet, Suzaku felt his sock-clad feet slip slightly on the floor before he dashed at full strength out of the bedroom and toppled down the stairs, eyes wide as he heaved out, "Sayoko-san, Lelouch is missing! I can't find him and…," Suzaku trailed off, realizing what an embarrassment he had made of himself as Lelouch and Sayoko stood casually in front of the kitchen stove, looking at him bewildered.
C.C., for her part, snorted into her morning slice of pizza (with pineapple and green pepper—a nice combination for breakfast and a break from all the pepperoni) and merely waved lazily at the biker with a smirk. Beside her, Nunnally was waiting patiently for breakfast, busy doing a puzzle by feeling the puzzle shapes and pieces. Jeremiah was still snoring upstairs in his room, as he had gotten a day off from work.
The smell of sizzling eggs met Suzaku's nose, and then he found that he was actually very hungry (and still embarrassed) indeed.
Hovering over a pan of what looked like pancakes; Lelouch glanced up at Suzaku curiously, and slight bemusement, "Congratulations Suzaku, looks like you've found me. We can now lower the alarm and enjoy some well deserved breakfast."
Colour flooded Suzaku's face, as he scowled at him, "Don't say that. I was really worried about you. I thought that you were hurt or…"
Lelouch's expression towards Suzaku softened; it did not go unnoticed by a very perceptive Sayoko and smirking C.C.
"Aw… did Kururugi have a nightmare? Was Zuzu scared that he lost his little Lulu?" C.C. taunted him in a monotonous voice.
Suzaku felt himself pale visibly, and he couldn't bare to look at Lelouch, wanting to disappear at this very moment.
Nunnally turned up her head, "Oh my! Did you really have a bad dream, Suzaku-san?"
"Oh shut up, C.C.," Suzaku scowled at her, and to Nunnally he muttered, "I slept fine, Nunnally, thank you."
"Maybe it wasn't a nightmare…," C.C.'s eyes flashed mischievously, "but some kind of erotic wet dream involving—"
Something whizzed past Suzaku's neck, narrowly missing skin by a few micrometers. Even Suzaku hadn't noticed the very stealthy and sudden attack, and his eyes widened when he saw that the 'something' was actually a kitchen knife stuck in the wall.
Concerned, Nunnally asked, "What was that?"
Suzaku turned his gaze towards an innocent (and victorious-looking) Sayoko-san who said happily, "Oops. My hand must've slipped."
"Slipped?! You think that I'd believe that a fully trained ninja such as yourself, sensei, is capable of accidentally—"
"Oh hush, Zuzu," Sayoko happily adopted the infernal nickname that C.C. had made up with ease, flipping her diced tomatoes into the omelette she was making, "It's all in good fun."
"Good fun?! Just look at your wall—"
"Stop being so cranky this morning, Suzaku," Lelouch intervened smoothly, "That's my department, not yours. Now sit down already and wait for us to finish making breakfast. You're being immature."
To that statement, Suzaku almost pouted, but then C.C.'s comment of "You'd think he'd be used to having weapons thrown at him by now… living in this house" made him want to turn around and strangle the infuriating woman. However, Lelouch's reproachful gaze made Suzaku think twice about the would-be-satisfying action, and he took a seat by the table.
As Suzaku tried to adjust his paranoid self to a calmer state (still wary from his nightmare), he slowly became aware that this was the first time he had ever sat down to eat with the entire Lamperouge household. Normally Suzaku rushed out of the house as soon as he awoke and changed into his normal attire, took off on his motorcycle and went to the tea shop to eat. When he got home from Black Knights meetings it would normally be quite late. He was used to eating with his fellow Black Knights, or alone.
That realization brought forth a self-conscious apprehension of himself, like a boyfriend about to meet his girlfriend's parents for the first time.
All of the times that he had made a bad impression in front of Sayoko and Jeremiah suddenly came rushing forth at him. He frowned, wondering why he was feeling so concerned about their opinions. It wasn't as if he was always welcome in this house anyways, save from the Lamperouge siblings themselves. Why should he feel so bothered if Sayoko and Jeremiah were less than approving of his presence?
"Oh, Suzaku-san," Nunnally bubbled, once she heard him push in his chair opposite her for a seat, "I'm so glad that you're finally going to join us for a meal. You'll love Onii-sama's cooking and Sayoko-san's as well! Jeremiah-kun always gives me the last pancake, even though he savours them. It's a shame that C.C. isn't fond of nothing else but pizza…"
C.C. smiled at the blind girl gently (which surprised Suzaku, as he never thought of that witch as anything but gentle) and said, "If you grew up eating pizza, you'd be hooked on it too. But I'm sure that Lelouch's meals are delicious if you say so."
"Of course they are! When I become a world famous singer, Onii-sama will not only be my manservant, but my personal chef!" Nunnally cackled very cutely, pressing a blue and white puzzle piece against her lips in coy playfulness.
"Whatever you say, Ms. Lamperouge," C.C. responded back.
Watching this exchange, and the familiarity that C.C. had with Nunnally and the rest of the Lamperouge household, Suzaku somehow felt a bit… strange. He always felt strange whenever he observed the casual interactions that C.C. managed to pull off with the various members of the Lamperouge household. Usually, Suzaku thought it to be suspicion, for he never did and never would trust any of the witch's intentions for staying here with Lelouch. He was also habitually paranoid, so it wouldn't have surprised him.
No… this feeling was something else. It was ugly and it twisted at his stomach whenever anyone smiled at C.C., and then turned to him and scowled.
"Step aside, Kururugi. Breakfast is served," Sayoko said to him tightly, pretending that he wasn't there as she swooped over him and placed a plate of tomato and red pepper omelettes in the center of the table setting, and a bowl of steaming hot white rice.
Making sure to sneer back at Sayoko, Suzaku turned his attention to the rice, taken back, "You serve rice, in a Britannian household?"
"Well, why wouldn't we? Eggs taste great with rice," Nunnally chirped, putting her half-finished puzzle to the side for later. "Plus, Sayoko-san said that rice is part of the Japanese diet."
"But this is an Area," Suzaku replied back vehemently.
"Does it make a difference, what I cook?" Sayoko asked him coolly.
Suzaku retorted in an equally icy gaze, "Is it a crime to be so curious in the choice of cuisine?"
"Did you know that curiosity killed the cat?"
"They did say satisfaction brought it back."
Sparks were literally flying—but C.C. and Nunnally merely ignored it, engrossed in conversation.
"Oh shut up, both of you," Lelouch stepped between them, holding a tray of fresh blueberry pancakes and a jug of maple syrup.
(C.C., meanwhile, had finished her third slice of pizza, going for a third. It was amazing that she hadn't gained a single pound in weight.)
He glared at Suzaku and Sayoko with sharp conviction, and proceeded to place the heavy tray and jug next to the other dishes on the table, "Can you really blame us for cooking rice, Suzaku? Honestly, you eat it every day at Ohgi's tea shop, why does it make a difference here? Don't you think it's logical, if Sayoko-san has been my caretaker for over eight years, that being Japanese, she would raise us with Japanese dishes? Despite our Britannian heritage, we do know how to appreciate other culture's cuisines, thank you very much."
Under Lelouch's disapproving eyes, Suzaku felt himself deflate a little.
"Besides," Lelouch changed his tone into a lighter one, "I like rice."
The Britannian boy (who, Suzaku noticed, was wearing a very silly looking Cheese-kun apron) gave Suzaku a conspiring smirk, to which Suzaku only had to shake his head, unable to get rid of the willing grin from his face.
"What's this? Are you starting without me? Gah!" Jeremiah bellowed from the top of the stairs, having just woken up and now racing down towards the heavenly smell from the kitchen.
"Hurry up, Jeremiah-san, or all the eggs will be gone!"
That was how Suzaku's first meal with the Lamperouge Household turned out.
It hadn't been a strenuous affair as he had thought it would be. In fact, Suzaku found that he was enjoying eating breakfast together with them, rather than dreading it. Sayoko-san and Jeremiah-kun didn't fail at their endeavours to bother him, and yet Suzaku enjoyed the challenges they presented to him. He realized that he was grinning more often than he normally let himself, either at their zealous antics or Nunnally's adorable little jokes addressed towards them. Even C.C. didn't serve as much of a bother, for she seemed to be entertained by just watching the family affair play itself out, an amused glint in those golden depths every once and a while, and a monotonous comment to go with it.
The food was heavenly. Suzaku had always shunned foreign food, being a rather prideful eater. Not wanting to be rude or chided for his lack of taste again, Suzaku had decided to try some of Lelouch's pancakes. He loved them. They were nice and sweet, yet not too sweet, with the juicy flavour of blueberries in between each bite. Sayoko-san and Jeremiah-kun made a point of trying to steal every pancake that Suzaku eyed, and it soon turned into a small fork war between the three of them, with C.C. commentating every few minutes. Off to the side, Lelouch and Nunnally teased each other softly. Every once and a while Nunnally flicked some of her syrup at Lelouch's face, making him blanch. The expression on his face made Suzaku want to laugh. Then Lelouch would give him a pointed glare.
This meal should've been odd to Suzaku—a mixture of Britannian and Japanese tastes and the availability of chopsticks and forks at once. And it was, at first. But slowly and surely, with the light atmosphere that this house seemed to have on him, Suzaku found himself settling down quite comfortably, as if he had always lived there.
Across from him, Lelouch swallowed the remains of the food on his plate (Suzaku noticed that he favoured fruit and a small portion of rice and eggs rather than anything sugary like pancakes), and got up to put away the dishes.
"Let me help you with that, Lelouch-sama," Jeremiah stepped out of his seat and held the pile of plates in Lelouch's stead.
"Thank you, Jeremiah-kun."
Sayoko-san got up as well, settling into Sunday morning routine easily. C.C. got up and escorted Nunnally to the sitting room, chatting about Nunnally's puzzle pieces and her latest origami creation. Feeling a bit useless, Suzaku sat uncomfortably in his chair before he also sat up and prepared to leave for the next Black Knights meeting with feelings of utmost dread.
He mentally berated himself. It wouldn't do to get so comfortable and attached to this homely atmosphere. He still had his duty to Zero.
"I guess I better get going then," Suzaku said, more to himself than to anyone else.
Lelouch looked up at him, eyeing him with what looked like suspicion, "Going where?"
Suzaku was confused. "To the tea shop. I have to meet up with everyone else today—"
"No, you're not. You're staying here today. Tell your boss, or whatever you call him, that you need to take a day to rest," the Britannian boy brushed him off sternly, picking up more empty plates and utensils from the table.
"Rest? But I can't just—" Suzaku shook his head and frowned, voice steadily rising, "Why?"
Hard violet eyes held him in place.
"Because you need it."
Anger filled him—perhaps from the dream he had just had, perhaps from the audacity this Britannian had for telling him what to do, perhaps because the very notion of 'staying home' as if it were an option was so ridiculous—and Suzaku growled, "What are you talking about? I'm not staying here today, I have another important appointment tomorrow and I have to discuss it with the others today!"
Unmoved, the other boy responded bluntly, "So?"
Suzaku wanted to shout at him. Lelouch just didn't understand what the Black Knights meant to him. "So," Suzaku felt his teeth ground out, "I need to get going."
"Hm," Lelouch hummed quaintly, as if Suzaku hadn't said a thing, "and you're going to do that while your body is still weak and shaking?"
In confusion, Suzaku looked down at his hands to discover in dismay that they were trembling slightly, still wary from the disappointing battle the other day. His lips pressed together tightly in a grimace and Suzaku fought to keep his temper under control. The last thing he wanted to do was scare off Lelouch with an unnecessary loss of self-restraint.
Smug, Lelouch smirked victoriously, "See? You're in no condition to go out today. Just give your boss a call. You work too much. He should give you a break—gangster or not."
He did not bother to hide his fuming. As if Zero would give him a break; the very idea was ludicrous.
A hand settled on Suzaku's shoulder, making him look up in surprise at Lelouch's steady gaze.
"Pouting doesn't become you," said Lelouch, "and if you need a better reason for staying home to rest, how about because I asked you too?"
It shouldn't have been very surprising to Suzaku when he found himself complying with Lelouch's stubborn request.
The rest of the day seemed to have gone by rather smoothly—or rather, as smoothly as it could go under the Lamperouge roof—for Suzaku.
He had excused himself to make a call on his personal cell phone to Zero about his absence. The leader of the Black Knights had not been very pleased, but admitted that perhaps rest took more of a priority for his ace. Zero wanted Suzaku and Kallen to be at top condition for the Lancelot mission the next day. He complimented Suzaku for the idea and told him that he would be letting Kallen have the day off as well.
The phone call had made him feel somewhat guilty and Suzaku still felt diminutive when addressing the Black Knights leader again. So the biker did what he was best at, when forced to confront his emotions, he hid them deep within and pretended that they weren't there. It helped—sometimes.
For the remainder of the day, he drifted in and out of his self-loathing. Lelouch had some kind of shift at the Pizza House place, but came home early in the evening. The other occupants of the house were preoccupied with their own jobs, leaving just himself, C.C. and Nunnally. The two girls spent their Sunday in the living room, chatting and curling each other's hair. They hadn't paid Suzaku much mind, which was what he preferred at the moment.
When Lelouch came home, shortly after Sayoko and Jeremiah, he had taken one look at Suzaku, frowned and then shook his head.
Suzaku couldn't help but feel even more entrenched in self-loathing after that.
Currently, he was brooding in the living room, watching Jeremiah flip through the channels with ease. Jeremiah had nodded at Suzaku before sitting down and then transfixing his attention to the television in front of him. The man wasn't that intolerable once he wasn't targeting you because of paranoia and an urge to protect his charge which Suzaku could empathize with.
"Suzaku-san, Jeremiah-kun, do you want to hear Onii-sama play the piano?" Nunnally asked them. C.C. was pushing her wheelchair, watching them with indifference.
A few seconds passed before his brain made the connection and Suzaku's face lit up, "Really? He's actually going to play for us?"
Even Jeremiah looked mildly interested, "Is that right? Are you practising for choir, Nunnally-sama?"
It was an uncommon occurrence for the rest of the household to hear the young Britannian play, unless it was for Nunnally's practises. Other than that, they never heard the piano in leisure. It was assumed that the ex-prince was talented in playing the instrument but merely expressed no passion for it.
"Oh, no. Onii-sama has the door open and he's playing madly, as if his fingers are aflame. It sounds gorgeous. We should listen while we can," Nunnally said with a smile.
Without another word, the four of them crept upstairs and down the hall, following the haunting melody of a complicated baroque sonata. It sounded similar to Bach's complicated organ compositions, dark hymns played in churches which evoked the strongest emotions in their complexities. Organs had a way of surrounding the audiences in its music, the sounds resounding in the pipes like a tidal wave, tsunamis of pure sound wrapping the inner core of any human body. But on the piano, these compositions did not have the same magnitude and power of sound. Instead, they seemed to be more sympathetic, smooth…
Suzaku could already imagine the expression on Lelouch's face as his thin fingers graced across the keyboard. It made the Japanese biker shiver on the inside, remembering hazily, how Lelouch's fingers graced over his skin the night earlier.
They were gathered around the entrance to the music room. The door was slightly ajar, so that only the slightest push would create a quiet creaking sound which no one would notice. They were too enraptured by Lelouch's dedicated performance, watching the boy seated before the grand piano, an expression of pure ecstasy on his face.
"Wow…," Jeremiah released the compliment from under his breath in surprise, "I had no idea that Lelouch-sama could play at this level of expertise… It's amazing…"
The word 'wow' was not sufficient enough to describe how beautiful Lelouch's piano playing was. Suzaku found that he was entranced by the expressions on Lelouch's face as he played; eyes closed and relaxed, a smooth smile of pure pleasure on his face that Suzaku always wanted to see on him…
The Black Knight was too absorbed in his staring to try and hide it, much to the hidden amusement of a leering witch.
She smirked, knowing that Suzaku was off on another planet and would likely take no heed of them now, "Why don't we go and leave them alone for a while, Nunnally?"
Nunnally, all too aware of the growing attraction between the two boys, was only happy to comply, "Jeremiah-kun, do you want to come play cards with C.C. and me? Let's go find Sayoko-san as well… C.C. taught me this great new game…"
Their voices trailed off, until it was just Suzaku lurking in the door way, and Lelouch playing on the piano.
Just the two of them.
A flurry of finishing triads and notes later, with a flourish of pale hands, Lelouch's voice jolted Suzaku out of his spellbound trance.
"Are you just going to stand there and gawk all day, or are you going to sit down on the bench?"
"Huh?" Suzaku looked up dumbly, like a young calf that had just remembered how to walk again, and stared at Lelouch's pointed expression with little understanding.
The upturned smirk across Lelouch's face made more sense once Suzaku realized that the boy had scooted over on the black piano bench, so that there was room for both of them to sit upon it.
Hesitantly (and trying to hide his pleasure at the opportunity to spend more time with the boy), Suzaku asked, "Are you… sure?"
He was answered by a scowl, "Would I be asking you otherwise?"
Right. Lelouch was the type who seemed sure about what he wanted and when, Suzaku smiled sheepishly at the thought.
Sitting next to Lelouch, maybe a little bit closer than necessary (not because of any thing in particular, he was just excited… and he was still weary from the dream…), Suzaku looked fondly at the keyboard.
"What were you playing?"
"Hm… just this and that…," Lelouch threw his arms up dismissively at the question. "Why were you just standing there?"
Suzaku grinned wryly, "Too caught up in the music to move."
Lelouch snorted, "Right."
"What? I was serious. I love hearing you play!"
"Sure." But Suzaku could tell that Lelouch was hiding the fact that he was pleased with the compliment.
"I wish I could play," Suzaku wistfully. "You're so lucky. I spent my childhood learning karate and…"
He stopped, voice trailing off darkly.
Lelouch's eyes were boring into him. The boy obviously wanted to ask him something and was struggling about how he would ask it.
Finally, he said carefully, "Suzaku… last night, what were you dreaming about…?"
Instantly, Suzaku felt his mind freeze, while at the same time, different sections of his brain were blaring out several different excuses and scenarios at once. Lie. Tell him it was a childhood nightmare. Tell him that it was nothing. Tell him that it was a result of the alcohol. Tell him anything. Anything but the truth.
"… It was just… just nothing."
Eyes narrowed at him harshly.
"Suzaku Kururugi," Suzaku winced at the cold use of his name, "yesterday I had to deal with your drunken injured self, your nightmares and a hell of a night just worrying about you, so you better tell me the truth."
"It's nothing!" Suzaku snapped at him, swinging his fist so that it smashed into the piano keys, creating such an awful sound that only matched his irritation, "Why are you prying? I don't ask about your nightmares, do I?"
But Lelouch refused to flinch, "Yet you ask about my parents, my past. You want to know everything about me, and yet I know nothing about you. Just one simple question is all I—"
"It's not simple!" Suzaku shouted, seeing red.
Lelouch's form went rigid, as if surprised that Suzaku had actually shouted at him. Already, Suzaku doubted himself, regretting it. Why had he lost his temper? Why had he allowed himself to shout at Lelouch yet again? It wasn't Lelouch's fault… it could never be Lelouch's fault… He was innocent… He wasn't one of them, despite being Britannian… and if the dream was correct, then he needed to protect Lelouch from his past… and his present.
By now, he was out of breath, as if he had run a marathon, mind whirling in a storm of confusion and hesitation.
He did not dare to look at Lelouch in the eye… If Lelouch ever knew about his past, ever got hurt because of his past…
"… Nothing's ever simple," the soft reply fluttered as fragile as a falling leaf upon his ears, "did you expect it to be?"
Suzaku wanted to snap at Lelouch, because the boy just didn't understand—
"I know you're Genbu Kururugi's son…," Lelouch said to his surprise, "How could I not? You have his last name, you're rather careless with giving it out by the way, and I lived in Japan before Britannia attacked… so I'm fairly familiar with the politics prior to the invasion. I heard rumours about the training that he gave to his child… but I never really believe it…," his eyes locked onto Suzaku's clearly, "It was true, wasn't it?"
Breath escaping him, as his chest constricted painfully, Suzaku gave a firm nod, "Yeah… it was. Do you have a problem with that?" He added bitterly.
"It's not your fault."
The soft reassurance surprised Suzaku, though he didn't really know why. And as sure as the reassurance parted the dam that Suzaku had built around his thoughts, defensively, insecure and misplaced anger flooded in to push it back.
"Not my fault?" Suzaku stated angrily, "Of course it's my fault!" He shouted, letting his voice rise, "It's my fault that Britannia was successful in its invasion! It's my fault that my mentor is dead!"
He should have been guilty to say that he was satisfied in causing Lelouch's face to pale visibly, but he wasn't. He was viciously satisfied.
"You couldn't be responsible..."
"Oh you'd be surprised," Suzaku muttered darkly, temper getting the better of him, "If I hadn't hesitated, if I hadn't run to Toudou first, I would've killed him when I had the chance; I would've stopped my father from surrendering. And then we were running. My father had been killed by the Britannian army—it wasn't supposed to happen," Suzaku said when he saw Lelouch's eyes widen, "Toudou and the other Four Holy Swords went into hiding, taking me with them. We were going to rebel, strike back somehow and take back our country... but then... because of me, because of that damn Britannian Prince... Toudou was murdered."
Lelouch's body tensed next to his, on the piano bench. "So..." was the soft response, "that's what you dream about."
He didn't need to confirm it. Lelouch knew. He could feel those amethyst eyes staring into his being, demanding answers, but mercifully declining.
"You don't know, Lelouch. You don't know what it was like... and I have no intention of telling you anymore," Suzaku said darkly.
Soft fingers touched Suzaku's shoulder, causing him to whip out, almost striking Lelouch's arm in automatic reflex, before he paused and realized just who was in the room with him. Imploring him. He fought back a gasp, determined not to give away anymore of his secrets.
But Lelouch wasn't going to let it go so easily, he was stubborn like that.
"Tell me. Help me understand. Or try to."
"You won't."
Again, Lelouch snorted, tilting his neck to the side, as ebony locks fell and graced across the long lines of his neck, "Kururugi, you forget that I, at one time, plotted revenge against Britannia before I made a stupid mistake and discovered that one person alone, cannot change the world. I think I will understand more than you know."
Suzaku said nothing.
"At least I'm not threatening you against a tree," Lelouch said dryly, referring to their argument in the park a few days earlier.
At first, Suzaku wasn't going to say a thing. But somehow, maybe because it was Lelouch or maybe because he didn't want to lie or stay angry at the other boy, the words tumbled out in a disarray of details.
"We were running—again. We did that a lot back then. Lots of spies and traitors. Many traitors. It seemed as if there was no where safe for the remains of the Japanese government to run. Then—I was thirteen—came the day when we were ambushed by a Britannian squadron. Toudou told me to hide and stay put behind some trees, where they wouldn't see. Toudou and the others were cornered... they were fighting to the death, for themselves, for me... I think they realized that they wouldn't survive this battle... and I realized that too... and yet... yet I didn't do a thing. I didn't get up and fight. I didn't pick up a gun and join them, because I was too scared to," Suzaku's eyes went distant, reliving a past that Lelouch couldn't possibly reach him in, "and that's how I failed him. I didn't get up and fight to the end. I didn't try to save him... in the end, I did nothing—and that is just as if I took out a gun and shot Toudou myself."
Numbing silence followed. He knew that Lelouch wouldn't be able to remark about his past—he seemed too shocked to.
But Lelouch always contradicted him.
"That is stupid."
Suzaku spun around to gawk at him, "Excuse me?"
Bluntly, Lelouch repeated, "That is stupid. You couldn't have saved him. Did you have a weapon or any kind of—"
Anger spiked in him again, "I've been trained to fight since I learned to walk! I should've—"
"At thirteen years old?!" Lelouch shook his head in disgust, "It's a sad reality that we have child soldiers out there in the world, but I doubt your beloved mentor would've wanted you to become one just for his sake. He would've wanted you to live your life out in peace—"
"—What kind of life could I possibly live knowing that I failed someone dear to me?! I could only atone for my sins or—"
"God! Just listen to yourself, Suzaku!" Lelouch retorted, "You're not a goddamn failure! Failures are those who disregard those they care about on purpose for their own selfish purposes, and then fail nonetheless! No one expected you to kill an entire Britannian squadron at thirteen years old—"
"But I was capable of it—"
Lelouch's eyes flashed in disbelief, "I highly doubt it, but at least you have faith in some aspect of yourself. Suzaku, I… am concerned," he wrinkled his nose, wondering what to God Suzaku was doing to him, making him so sappy, "about you. I just… don't like seeing you hurt yourself—mentally."
The hand that he had placed on Suzaku's shoulder gripped it tighter, as if to confirm that Suzaku was still there, in front of him.
Then it came to Lelouch—the real reason that Suzaku was having all of these hesitations, frustrations. Something had to have triggered his sense of failure. The dreams, the guilt, and these thoughts of the past…. It had something to do with that dodgy appointment yesterday, the one that Suzaku had returned from with injury. That stupid appointment, which was really none of his business. Lelouch buried his outrage and put it aside for later. There would be time for that.
He frowned, determined to get his message across.
"If you really feel this way… do something about it. Are you just going to give up and mope around all day? Is that it? Did something go wrong yesterday at your appointment?" Lelouch watched as Suzaku's features scrunched up in self-loathing, it was all he needed as verification so he continued, "Suzaku… get your head out of the gutter! What would this Toudou think? So you apparently failed once? Is that really your fault? And even if it is yours, are you going to let it swallow you whole and take over your life? Fix it! Do something! You're Suzaku Kururugi, for goodness' sake and I refuse to let you sulk over this blasted appointment any longer!" Lelouch paused in his lecture to catch his breath, looking at Suzaku more calmly, "You're better than this, Suzaku."
The biker sat there, condemning himself to his own destructive thoughts.
Lelouch sighed. "I shouldn't have to tell you this, Suzaku. But it seems you've forgotten. If there's anyone or anything to blame for what's happened to you… to Japan… its Britannia."
The light seemed to return to those green eyes that Lelouch desperately wanted to see again. He hadn't even realized that he was holding his breath—just watching, waiting—this whole time, to see them. And in that moment, Lelouch didn't care that he was feeding Suzaku's hate, Suzaku's being and even, his robotic purpose in life. He just wanted to see those eyes light up again.
Because for some reason… it just wasn't Suzaku, the Suzaku he had come to know, without that spark behind those emerald depths.
He found it hard to swallow right then, as nameless emotions swam up and clogged his throat.
Suzaku looked as if he had just found a life line in the middle of a ferocious storm, his face was glinting like mad fire, returning to life and purpose, "Yes… of course… it's all Britannia's fault… how could I forget…? Everything that's happened to me… everything that I've suffered through… It's Britannia… It's those Britannian Siblings and their mother…"
At that moment, Lelouch raised an eyebrow, "Britannian… siblings?"
"Yeah…" Suzaku answered, not exactly paying attention to Lelouch's carefully guarded expression, "If it wasn't for Emperor Charles Zi Britannia's unknown consort running away to Japan with her children and then died, Japan would never have been invaded… I know it. It's their fault the war began…"
No, thought Lelouch. It can't be the only reasons Father invaded. He wanted the Sakuradite as well… and something else. But mother thought we were safe in Japan… she didn't anticipate him blowing up the boat… but after that, we were presumed dead… Father wouldn't invade to get us back… But… our siblings, Cornelia… Clovis… even Schneizel… thought Lelouch with dread, wondering why he had never anticipated this sooner, they would've wanted revenge, blamed the Japanese for our mysterious 'deaths'. They would've pushed father to invade as well, or used their own manipulations…
"It's too bad they're not alive…" said Suzaku darkly, "I would've enjoyed killing them."
Goosebumps began to form underneath Lelouch's skin, as he felt all blood rush from his face. No, stop talking Suzaku, he silently pleaded to the other, stop… I want to trust you; I don't want to regard you as another threat…
"Lelouch?" Suzaku asked, worriedly, finally noticing Lelouch's pale expression, "Are you alright?"
"Yes…," Lelouch said softly, before correcting his tone into a firmer one, "Yes, of course. Um, we should… get to dinner… By the way, I want your cell phone number," he said hurriedly, "Er… I don't want to be… asking around again if you're late next time. It's best to be cautious…"
"Oh, yes… I didn't think of that… Thanks for worrying about me," Suzaku practically glowed, returning to his normal self around Lelouch.
But inside, Lelouch was berating the boy.
Stop smiling like that. Stop looking at me like that. Stop treating me like you care.
Because you don't.
I am the one you hate the most, after all.
He felt something in his eyes, then. As Suzaku followed behind him, to the kitchens, Lelouch realized that they were wet—he didn't dare ask himself why.
-
-
-
Ink: I apologize for the two-week delay in this chapter! As you can see, it is much longer than my usual chapter lengths by about 10 pages or so. It was also irksome to write so much, fluff. Argh. (I'm not good with fluff... gr, its frustrating to write it) I also had a flood of lab reports due before March Break.
Lelouch: In other words, Ink-chan just blathered on and on pointlessly in this chapter, without making much sense.
Ink: (pouts) Well, here's the short! (The one next chapter will be better, I guarantee it ;D)
-
Walk On In
Extra Scene: Takes Place Between Chapter 6 and (the upcoming) chapter 7
Jeremiah always struck Suzaku as sort of odd. He didn't know why, but there was something off about that man that didn't fit into the whole equation that was the Lamperouge Household. Perhaps it was because Suzaku knew how to act around C.C., Sayoko and Nunnally, but not around Jeremiah. The man wasn't often in the household when Suzaku was, so he didn't have as many chances to interact with him. The only impression that Suzaku had of him so far was that he was overprotective of the Lamperouge siblings (like everyone else in the house, save for maybe C.C.) and liked interrogating people.
But then Suzaku walked in on Jeremiah's little hobby in the garage.
He had walked in, ready to mount his motorbike and ride to the Tea Shop as usual, when he noticed Jeremiah sitting on the stool in front of the garage door, next to his truck. The tall man was just sitting there, hovering over a rather large album book, and… giggling to himself.
Needless to say, at this point, Suzaku should've been creeped out.
Don't worry—he was.
"Er, what are you doing, Jeremiah?" Suzaku asked quizzically, attempting to peek over Jeremiah's shoulder.
"Gah! I didn't do anything, Sayoko-san, I swear!" Jeremiah jumped out of his chair—stool—thing and fell on his bottom rather ungracefully.
Suzaku had to hide a smirk at Jeremiah's outward show of fear around Sayoko (then again, who wasn't scared of that crazy ninja maid?).
"Nah, it's just me."
"Oh."
"Yup."
"Right."
"Hm."
Jeremiah's brow lowered, trying to hide something behind him, "Go away."
But Suzaku had already noticed that Jeremiah was hiding some photos that had fallen out of the album, "Hey… is that Lelouch in a dress?"
"He was three years old! Marianne was quite fond of his pretty eyes and insisted we take a picture of his 'youthful beauty', as she put it, and for future blackmail!"
"Blackmail?!" (What was wrong with this family?)
"Well, you know, when he got in the rebellious stage. We could use the photos to control him. Of course it didn't work …"
"What?" Suzaku blinked, "I didn't catch that."
Jeremiah tried to whistle innocently, "I didn't say anything…"
"So, why are you staring at a bunch of baby photos of Nunnally and Lelouch?"
"Uh… no reason…"
Stare.
"… I don't stare at the frilly dresses."
More staring.
"And I definitely don't go around designing new dresses for Milly to force Lelouch-sama to wear at school during who-knows-what and for Nunnally's casual wear," said Jeremiah even more quickly.
Even more staring.
"Ok. How about I give you ten of my best photos of Lelouch in drag, and you promise never to tell Sayoko-san or anyone else about this, ever?"
Suzaku leered at him, "I'll take the ones where he has a bonnet on too… really cute…"
Thus, the creepy meeting with Jeremiah-kun was never mentioned again. Except for more photos (Poor Lelouch…).
-
-
So will Suzaku find out about Mao? Not for a while, but when he does… (smile) so don't worry, I didn't forget… yet. I'm sorry to everyone whose reviews I have not replied to yet, I've been quite busy with homework. I also apologize to those whose stories I have not reviewed yet… (bad Ink-chan!)
Also, the idea of Suzaku's nickname 'Zuzu' came to me from BeeBee Forthwright's review:)
Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter: Mione, kyouruhi24, MyColdHeart, Hispanic Tenshi, luckless-is-me, BeeBee Forthwright, Seriyuu, Unnoticed Observer, Siry Pop, 2stupid, Atheist1, Blackrose2005, Altair718, Haninozuka Mitsukuni, verrin, roses-have-thorns911, iceley11, Anon, RiseofaRebellion, chacra, Desperateembrace, , Crispy Rice, TheLadyPendragon, Serena the Hikari of Love, mochiusagi, person, Sir Banana six-tea-phoar, and xTincampi. Your kind words mean a lot to me, so thank you again :)
Next time: Suzaku and Kallen go steal themselves a Lancelot, Lelouch's gambling takes a wrong turn when he sees a truck (carrying poison gas) crash and the author hopes to the heavens above that her May exams won't kill her.
Thank you for taking the time to read! Please point out any spelling or grammar mistakes that you may have noticed in this chapter so that I may correct them asap. Thank you, and please review if you have the chance :)
