WARNING: There is an almost-rape in this chapter. If you don't wanna read about it, skip the last section, or just skip this chapter.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters presented in this fiction, except one. All characters aside from Ulrike are the property of Sunrise.

Archeas: All happy times must end, as the curtain closes on the players. We may lament this, we may weep about this, but truly, it is the way of the world.

- Sophocles, The Rivers of Athens

THE STRANGER, THE SAINT, THE HORN, AND THE WORD

Intervallum: Tempus Fugit

(Pause: Time Flies)

Part Two: Endings

Incipio.


Suzaku had an ear to the keyhole and could just make out a muffled voice.

"If anyone, gentlemen, has an objection to this plan…?"

Heads shook.

Genbu Kururugi harrumphed. "Very well. Tōdō and his battalion will be sent out to engage the enemy at Itsukushima. God knows we can't lose any more than we already have…" He thumped his gavel. "I hereby declare this meeting adjourned."

As Suzaku darted away from the door, the grim circle of Japanese military men streamed out the door, muttering ominously.

The situation was not good, and it had steadily been getting worse as the month moved along. Already the command post at Sarubami Castle near Nagoya had been lost, with more than two battalions of tanks. No one had expected the blitzkrieg horror of the Knightmares; they had torn almost unopposed through the forces deployed against them.

Suzaku caught up with his father after he had escaped from the huddled knots of men. "So, how does the situation look, Father?"

Genbu strode past and didn't answer. Suzaku's mouth crimped unhappily at this blatant disregard of him; it had been getting worse and worse over the past week. The terrible losses were making his father turn his temper more and more on his son, the only one he could safely vent his frustrated fury on. He was now largely communicating by icy looks and silences, as well as neglect. Suzaku was beginning to feel more and more extraneous around his father, and hated feeling that way. Even though he was growing in friendship with Cornelia and her siblings every day, he wanted – needed – his father to love him. It was like a constant itch in his mind, that was growing to a chronic ache as he became accustomed to the love that he was beginning to receive from his new friends; he wanted his father to love him, now that he, Suzaku, knew how wonderful love could be. Not respect him, not praise him, but love him.

The way things were going, though… His father seemed likely to stop caring about him completely, and Suzaku was very afraid of that. For all his father's unkindness, Suzaku craved his care.

As well, he had a completely ridiculous feeling that if he lost his father, he would disappear. His father was the one who gave him merit. If he was gone…

It really was idiotic.

It still terrified him out of his wits.


Cornelia was pretending to be asleep, with Euphemia in her arms, really asleep. She hadn't wanted the little girl to miss her nap today; she really needed it, especially after the tension of the next few weeks, and she wouldn't go to bed without Cornelia. Beside her, Lelouch and Nunnally had also fallen asleep, holding tightly to each other, despite Lelouch's intention of staying awake to guard her. If he hadn't been so tired, Cornelia was sure that he would have; but he was barely older than Euphie, and needed the rest as much.

She was tired as well; but she was fifteen. Her advanced age gave her a little more leeway when dealing with sleep; she could sleep later. She could stay up to guard her siblings, while letting them all sleep. It worked well, and it gave her time to think.

As most of their thoughts these days tended, her mind turned toward Suzaku Kururugi.

It's incredible, she thought. Three weeks ago, I would have been willing to write him off as just another one of our enemies. Just another person who would be glad to see us die. And now –

She considered for a moment. I think he's probably the most loyal friend any of us have ever had. He's polite, he's kind… he's really one the nicest people any of us have ever known.

The joy they felt in having found a new friend was overshadowed, however, by both his obvious hurt over his father's growing coldness (which he had told them of), and the building tension that crept in whenever he enlightened them as to the depth of the Japanese losses. While Euphemia and Nunnally were sorry for the war for its own sake, Cornelia and Lelouch had realized the unpleasant implications: if they all had been sent here as sacrificial lambs, then they would be fulfilling their purpose soon, and were going to be sacrificed on the altar of the Japanese people's fury as a final act of defiance if they didn't get out of the picture quickly.

Cornelia shifted uncomfortably, making Euphemia give a sleepy murmur. As much as Suzaku brightens our life here… we have to leave, and soon, or we'll all be dead when the Japanese finally lose Tokyo.

Her dreams, when the other three woke up and she allowed herself to succumb to her tiredness at last, were full of chasing things that slowly became more and more horrible. They overtook her and her siblings at last, when they stumbled in their weariness. As a man with a gun reached for Euphemia, she awoke with a muffled scream.

Her paranoia returned in force after this.

When they returned to bed after a few hours, she clutched at Euphemia as if she would slip away at any moment. She could dimly feel, somehow, that Euphemia was worried at this, and snuggled up to calm her. It worked, a little. She relaxed, but she couldn't get the worry out of her head. Eventually she slept, and was spared the nightmares.

This time.


Two days later.

Everything had gone from bad to worse. The Britannian front was advancing on all sides – with the single exception of Itsukushima; somehow, his friend Tōdō had worked a miracle there and obliterated Battalion Beta, and escaped with half his force. He had bought the Japanese military an extra day when they were sure that Tokyo would fall within the day. The Britannians had backed off, wary of this new threat, but when it became clear that the Japanese leaders were too cowardly to trust Tōdō with more troops despite the victory, they had pressed forward again.

Suzaku was furious and scared at once; he was furious with the military – and his father - for wasting the time Tōdō had bought them, and he was scared of what would happen when the Britannians took Tokyo. Most particularly, he was scared out of his mind for his friends; if, after Tokyo was taken, the vengeful Japanese caught them before they could escape… a last act of defiance…

He shook the thoughts out of his mind as he approached his father's office. When he walked in, he glanced at his father's face, intending to gauge his mood before taking a seat.

And froze.

His father's face was frozen, blank with rage. Suzaku had seen him annoyed before, and he had seen him angry and furious before; he had even been the cause of it several times.

But not this.

His father's face was smooth and unemotional, but Suzaku could tell, could almost feel, by the way his father's gaze seemed to cut everything he gazed at, by the way a terrible, icy miasma seemed to boil off him, that he was wrathful beyond anything he, Suzaku, had seen before.

"Suzaku."

The word was spoken and almost wielded like a knife, and Suzaku flinched at it.

"Y-yes, father?"

"Have you heard the news? We have lost Itsukushima. Those fools withdrew Tōdō, and the garrison fell within hours. It's only a matter of time before Tokyo falls as well."

He turned suddenly. Suzaku jumped at the violent movement.

"Do you know what I'm going to do now, Suzaku?"

"No, Father…?"

"I am going to withdraw out of Tokyo, out of Japan if need be, but I must continue the resistance. It will be absolute; as long as one Japanese man, woman or child remains alive, we shall never give up. If they wish to take our land, they must pay triple in blood for it. And first I will mete out a quick and sharp lesson to our new masters." He spat the word like venom. "I'm going to have those four sacrificial lambs tortured and killed – publicly. The younger ones will die first – slowly, while the others are forced to watch – and then I will personally force the elders to commit seppuku – which no doubt they will be too cowardly to do themselves. The world may defame us as hideous monsters, but Britannia will learn what will happen to their children if they send them here. And we will do it to every Britannian we get our hands on, for as long as it takes to force them out of the ascendant nation of Japan."

Suzaku felt the bile rise, and felt his fear rise likewise, a shadowy snake in his gut. His father was planning to commit the very thing he dreaded. The final revenge of the free nation of Japan… He had adored the idea once, but now he saw it for the hateful pettiness that it was. A perpetuation of hate and violence.

Suddenly something became clear to Suzaku that had been murky before: war and revenge solve nothing. They only inspire others – through their hate – to kill, kill, kill, and hate some more… And if I don't stop my father, they'll poison my life, and end my friends' prematurely. But, like a viper, another opposing thought rose in the back of his mind, and whispered treasonously, Just what you've always wanted: your father's relying on you, trusting you enough to tell you what he will do. Are you going to stab your father in the back, you little worm? Are you really unworthy of Japan, of life itself? Choose right, Suzaku! Choose the glory of Japan, and you will be remembered as the model of the faithful son! And the other arguments seemed, somehow, weak and foolish… rage, after all, was the only thing that was real; love and peace simply afterthoughts of humanity…

His father turned to him, and although the rage was undiminished, a swelling of pride in his progeny was clear. "You have done your job well, Suzaku. You kept them here, and now we have a message to send the whole world. My son, you may have enabled my – our victory. Now, if you will tell me where they are housed, I will notify my guards to arrest them and place them in confinement."

The smile that was upon his father's face was a vengeful, a hateful, a proud smile, that said clearly, My son has enabled my vengeance, and for that, I am pleased with him. I will treasure him.

If he but grants me this.

Suzaku kept his face completely blank as the weight of the decision landed on his shoulders. Here it was, his moment, all glory to Japan, all glory to Suzaku the Faithful!

All he had to do was sacrifice some children he had hardly known for a month.

He opened his mouth, and the honorable words trembled on the tip of his tongue. They are hiding near Meiji Shrine… They are hiding… They're…

Before he made a conscious decision, he thought again of the faces of his friends. Sweet little Euphemia, solemn but joyful Nunnally, abrasive but loyal Lelouch, and… the majestic Cornelia, who had downed him, the prodigy…

And before he said the words he was thinking, he blurted one word that changed the litany of excuses.

"No."

His father looked stunned.

"Excuse me? I didn't catch that?"

That one word brought to his mind back to what he had realized. I have to stop this, here, now. Panic rose again, but was forced down by the knowledge that he had to save them.

"I-I won't tell you where they are."

His father rose slowly from his chair.

Booong.

The antique grandfather clock, an original from Britannia itself, began striking the hour.

"You will… not tell me where they are?"

Booong.

"That's r-right, Father."

Booong.

"Why is this, Suzaku? Tell me why. Now."

Booong.

"I can't betray them, Father. Not after all they've done for me."

Booong.

"All they've done for you? All they've done for you?"

(rage like the wave off Kanegawa, rising)

Booong.

"You would place the lives of three spoiled princesses and one arrogant prince above those of your people?" (my glory)

Booong.

"Yes." (sure voice; at least here he was sure)

Booong.

"Do you betray us to the enemy, Suzaku? Are you proved a coward at last? Because these worthless royals won't help you escape. They are disowned."

Booong.

"I know that. B-But they are my friends, Father, and just as they would not betray me, I will not betray them."

Booong.

"A-and, Father? I think we should…" (a pause) "… s-s-surrender. Even if we do manage to delay the Britannian g-government, we'll pay with our people's lives, and build up hatred between Britannia and Japan. We'll do nothing, accomplish nothing but hate and death."

This was the spark.

Booong.

Genbu Kururugi's face did not change. He seemed to drift up from his chair, around his desk, and towards Suzaku, his hands out, as if to embrace him. But… Suzaku's status as a prodigy of martial arts had not been feigned. Even now, he slid into a defence posture meant for killing enemies armed with guns. Tōdō's drill, pounded into his mind ten thousand times, echoed in a mean parody of his voice: When you find yourself facing an opponent (oh God) armed with a gun, get low to the ground. Then, get as close as possible to the gun. If your aim is to disable, a quick blow to the head will suffice. If your aim is to kill, twist the gun out of their hands (yes and now) and shoot your adversary

Booong –

It was.

Twelve noon.

BANG.

Through the throat.

Glass shattered as the clock's pendulum case was suddenly spiderwebbed with cracks. The gun's recoil propelled Suzaku onto the floor. His father's corpse crumpled. The gun had done neat work.

Shards of the timepiece dropped quietly to the floor, making a persistent tinkling the background noise as Suzaku's world started to burn.

He felt choked, cut off, as if a fire was sending smoke into his lungs instead of air. It could not –

his father could not be –

But Genbu Kururugi lay motionless. Like the broken clock, whose pendulum lay like a dropped sword, he was silent, humbled in death, at last.

Suzaku dropped to his knees, as if in supplication, and with a shaking hand, took his father's pulse.

No movement lifted his fingers.

He noticed, detached, that his father's pocket watch had fallen out of his coat. It had stopped. He picked it up, weighed it in his hand, and closed his fingers, vise-like, around it.

He would have cried, only he couldn't even gather the energy to start. His mind was so full of the horrible reality before him, he could hardly muster the energy to breathe, let alone cry.

He slumped over the thing that had been his father, and proceeded to stare at the wall, hoping to become nothing, to dissolve, so he wouldn't have to live. With himself.

An hour later, the frantic guards found him on deathwatch.


Unintelligible murmurs.

Poor kid.

Yeah, can you believe the gutless bastard?

To do that in front of his own son.

He was saying something about "tried to stop him" when they found him, did you know? That's why his fingerprints were on the gun.

Well, I can't say I don't sympathize a little with Kururugi. We have no chance; the Britannians are around three hours from here…

Shut up! Don't say that in front of him! He's had enough trauma without you adding any more.

Faded out.

He was in a medical tent, some distance from the mansion.

He opened his fingers, which were shaking with exertion from holding the watch so long. It was still stopped.

He put the watch in his pocket as he watched his attendants leave to defend Japan.

He stumbled out when he was sure they were gone. If he had no father, he had no ties to this place. But he had four friends who would very soon be in great danger if he didn't warn them now, and get them out. He would have to risk his life to save them, but he wanted to risk his life. He didn't deserve to have it, after all, and he had bought it with his father's.

Too high.


Lelouch's return to consciousness was heralded by a muffled voice calling his name.

He sat up dizzily, and squinted at the intruder while Nunnally stirred and whimpered in his arms.

"Whozzat?"

He could make out, through the sleep-haze, Cornelia, with a – grief-stricken, it looked like – Suzaku trailing behind her.

Lelouch had grown to very much appreciate Suzaku's company in the past few weeks; after all, with no other boys readily accessible, he had very little chance to drop his "girl armour" (or so he liked to call it) when talking, except when he spoke with Suzaku. So, naturally, he had begun to anticipate Suzaku's visits with pleasure.

However, he was not accustomed to Suzaku calling at – what was the time? He checked the ancient analog timepiece the Britannian embassy had seen fit to provide this shack with – half past three in the morning.

Hmmm.

"Wh-wha's up, Cor?" Lelouch yawned. His incautiously loud question woke Euphemia, who groaned a little as she hoisted herself up to stare blearily at her sister, and when she noticed him, less blearily and more glowingly at Suzaku.

Cornelia's voice did not have her usual tolerant tone. She spoke tersely and worriedly. "All of you need to really get up and get moving. We have a very short window of time if we want to get out of here alive."

Lelouch jerked awake at that. "Say what, Cor?"

"You heard me."

"You're… joking, right?"

"No. If you absolutely can't wait till we're in safety to know the details, I'll tell you when we're underway. We need to get ready – fast! I'll get Euphemia and Nunnally ready. You get the essentials from the kitchen and living room."

"But I want to help Nunnally get – " Cornelia pushed him out, and slammed the door. " – ready." Lelouch scowled.

I bet it's not as serious as Cor thinks it is, he grumped to himself as he made his way to the kitchen with an empty backpack. She always blows stuff out of proportion.

He packed the backpack full of food, a flashlight, a medical kit, and four (camouflage-patterned, oddly enough; he supposed that this had been a military post once, and someone had been too cheap to buy new material) blankets, still grumbling, and was making his way back upstairs when he heard an explosion, shouts, and gunshots. Judging by the level of sound, there was skirmishing within a mile of where they were staying now.

With the speed of fright, Lelouch sprinted up the stairs.

"Cor-Cornelia! We have to leave now!"

His half-sister still looked very worried and was beginning to verge on panic. "I know, Lelouch! That – " she gestured roughly out the window " – is why Suzaku came to warn us." She looked at the boy next to her with a fervently grateful expression. "If he hadn't come… I doubt any of us would have gotten out of here alive…" Her eyes flicked to Euphemia, who was wide awake now and trying not to look scared, as not to worry Cornelia further. Lelouch could tell she was, very much so, no matter how much she postured.

As hysteria began to mount, his eyes were pulled, in mimicry of Cornelia's almost-obsession, to Nunnally.

She was sitting, doll-like, on the bed. The stillness and fragility of her limbs – questing arms and useless legs – made her appear as if she was made of glass, a beautiful but ornamental thing.

Until she spoke.

Her voice cut through the panic and dread that hung over the four. "Sister Cornelia. Nii-sama. Suzaku-sama. You're right, I can tell. We have no time for anything but escape. What shall we do?"

Cornelia shook her head a little, as if trying to clear it, and raised her eyes again. They were still worried, but determination had replaced her panic. "Sh-she's right. Okay! All of you, listen up!" She thought for a moment, then asked: "Oh, Lelouch? Do you have any blankets in there?"

"Yes, Cor. Four of them."

She looked them over. "Ah, wonderful, camo. Take out three of them. Give one to me, take one yourself, and give one to Suzaku. We're going to run for it, but we're going to run low and slow."

She slid her shoulders through the straps of the backpack, swirled the blanket over herself, and hoisted Euphemia into her arms. Her voice, slightly muffled, emerged: "Lelouch, follow thirty seconds after I leave, and from a different door. Suzaku, you should do the same after Lelouch has left. That should allow for enough stagger in the departure times to help us escape unnoticed." He nodded.

"All right! We meet up again at the ditch where Suzaku rescued Euphemia!" Lelouch heard a thump from within the blanket, but Cornelia simply said, "Ow!" in response to her sister's ill tempered blow, and continued, "Our final destination is the Ashford's villa, in Tama Ward. I estimate a travel time of about four days from our present position, provided we go on foot, and travel secretly. I'll see you at the ditch; good luck and God bless, you three!"

In three seconds, she was out the door, running low and almost silent, making no noise other than a faint, consistent crackle as she made her way away from the house.

Lelouch watched her go with envy. I don't think I'll ever be that athletic, he lamented. Fortunately, the training Cornelia had been putting him through had at least improved his stamina to the point that he could run for a good while with Nunnally on his back. He began to ready himself; he lifted Nunnally into her accustomed spot on his back, and asked Suzaku if he would put the blanket over him. Suzaku did so.

The half-minute passed slowly for Lelouch. He kept imagining the men he had heard breaking into the house and killing Nunnally, although he held her on his back. Even worse, he imagined them marking it as an enemy base (whichever side they were on) and torching it, leaving them inside to burn.

When it was his time to leave, he turned to Suzaku. "Good luck," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"You, too," Suzaku whispered back.

Lelouch edged out the side door into the night.

And then he ran.

He was nowhere near as quiet as Cornelia, but he counted on the ambient noise to disguise the sound of his feet.

When he came up on the shrine, he had to freeze behind a tree when a party of four heavily armed men came through the woods, but, fortunately, they were too focused on their destination (the house) to pay much attention to the unusually shaped ground behind the tree.

The sound of his quick footsteps resumed. He knew the place he was heading for; it had been etched into his memory.

Lelouch? Where's Euphemia? Weren't you watching her?

I… uhhh…

He grimaced and shook his head. That had been the worst scolding he'd ever gotten from Cornelia. It hadn't helped that Suzaku and Euphemia herself had stood watching, both scarlet with suppressed laughter, while Cornelia reamed him out. It had struck Lelouch as very unfair; after all, Euphemia was fine, wasn't she? Nunnally, bless her, hadn't laughed at all.

The changes of direction suggested themselves from his memory.

South.

Southwest.

West.

South.

A gunshot rang out, not one hundred feet from him. A man screamed. Lelouch dropped to the forest floor, right next to a large tree, not daring to breathe.

Men's voices, unconcerned and loud, as well as more than a little inebriated, rang out in the night. "I think I got one of 'em! Help meh check it out, one of yeh?"

"I'll do it, Reg."

Their heavy footfalls came closer and closer, until they stopped five yards from where Lelouch lay frozen.

Reg whistled. "Aye, that's a dead'un all right!"

"Nice shot."

"Don't mention it."

Lelouch heard them begin to remove the weapons from the body, as well as whatever valuable they could find. Scavengers, he thought disgustedly.

"What a haul, eh?"

"Yeah! He was rolling in it – past tense, o' course."

The men roared with laughter, and, to Lelouch's horror, he heard them begin to walk toward where he lay twisted by the tree. If one of them tripped on him…

"Ah, there's a big root, here, Reg."

"Ah. Good job spottin' that one, Johnny. Wouldn't want to lose our newfound wealth by trippin' in this miserable forest."

Lelouch knew that the slightest twitch could betray him. He schooled himself to remain completely still.

The men stepped over him –

"Wait!"

"What is it, Johnny?"

"I think the root just moved!"

"Ahhh, yeh've had too much to drink!" Reg chuckled. "Overindulged in victory, have we?"

"No, really, Reg! I think we should check it! It might be an enemy spy! At least sink a shot into it."

Reg tutted. "Now, how would I look, pointin' mah gun at a root, eh? I'd look like a damn fool, that's what I'd look like! Get away with yeh, and yer movin' root!"

Grumbling, Johnny walked away, with Reg following, continuing to good-naturedly rib him about his drinking habits.

Lelouch let out a long, slow breath. That was close.

Nunnally was shaking on his back. He dropped her for a moment to hug her. After she had calmed down, he picked her back up, and headed towards the ditch, his siblings, and – hopefully – salvation.

Lelouch stumbled into the clearing that held the ditch on the edge of Yoyogi Park*. His pace had slowed to a silent jog after the incident with the treasure-hunting soldiers, but he was still exhausted.

He fell to his knees, but he did not drop Nunnally. He knew he should, but he didn't let go. She clung to him tightly as well.

Cornelia and Euphemia walked over. Lelouch was pulled into a fierce group hug with the two of them.

"Hey! Cor – "

"I'm glad to see you two," whispered Cornelia. "We'd been here for half an hour already… we thought you hadn't made it."

"I was really scared," said Euphemia, in a tiny voice. "Please… don't scare me like that again, okay?"

Lelouch was just about to promise that he wouldn't, when Suzaku crashed into the clearing. He was clutching his shoulder.

"Uuuuh…" With a groan, he collapsed.

"Suzaku!"

The four of them rushed toward him. Euphemia was first to reach him. She shifted him so she could survey his front.

"He's got a gunshot wound in his shoulder." She looked up. "Nothing else as far as I can see."

Cornelia nodded, letting her medical training take over. "All right. Lelouch, would you get the medical kit out? I need disinfectant, forceps, and gauze. Lots of gauze."

"Yes, I've got it." He extracted the medical kit from the backpack, and handed it to Euphemia, who gave Cornelia the disinfectant and forceps.

She went to work.

Later. In the ditch.

"How did you get that bullet wound, Suzaku?" Lelouch asked.

Suzaku winced. "Carelessness, mainly. I was about three-quarters of the way here, when I ran into two men, who had apparently just looted a corpse. They… spotted me."

"Really? I thought you were stealthier than that…"

The wince turned into a scowl. "You try being stealthy when you're four feet from two men with good night vision, you aren't on the ground, and your only disguise is a stupid camo blanket."

Lelouch put up his hands in mock surrender. "All right, you win."

"Anyway, I managed to knock them both out, but not before the one nearest me got a bullet into me. I had to slow my pace to a jog, but I just barely made it here…"

Cornelia smiled. "At least you made it here, Suzaku. We're fairly safe down here; the wave of soldiers has mostly dissipated. I think we can stand to rest for a little while…"

Lelouch let Nunnally off his back, spread out one of the camo blankets, and laid Nunnally on it. He made a face; the floor of the ditch was still wet from the flooding, but it was dry enough for Nunnally to be relatively comfortable.

Cornelia gestured to the blanket. "Euphie, you should get some rest too." Euphemia was too tired to argue, and dropped down beside Nunnally.

"And as for you…" Cornelia turned to Suzaku, her voice dropping. "I want you to tell me what sent you to us looking like you'd seen a ghost."

"Hey!" said Lelouch (quietly). "If she gets to hear, then I do too! I'm the second oldest!"

Cornelia gave him a sunny smile. "Yes, and second-best."

He tried to attack her, but she deflected his punch, grabbed his head, and gave him a noogie.

"Ow-ow-ow! Stop!" "Don't try and fight your Sensei!"

Suzaku huffed a laugh. "You two are priceless."

Cornelia let Lelouch go, and he dropped to the floor beside her. They were both grinning.

"I'll tell you what's happened; to me, and to Japan."


Both Cornelia and Lelouch had stopped grinning. Indeed, Lelouch could see Cornelia's face had frozen into a grim mask of fury, and his own face was set in a rictus grimace.

Suzaku looked at the floor as he finished his story. "…I snuck out of the tent when I was sure they were gone, and I came to find you, to warn you." He looked up at them.

Without warning, Cornelia struck the soft, clayey wall of the ditch. Her fist went into the wall almost six inches before it was stopped. She spoke in a low monotone, almost a whisper.

"Lelouch. For our miseries – banishment, misuse, attempted assassination – and for those Suzaku has suffered – the death of his father, the murder of his people, the destruction of his country – I think it only right that Britannia pay in full for its misdeeds, don't you?"

"Indeed, Sister. I can only see one course to take, can't you?"

"Yes, Brother."

They clasped hands. The look in their eyes must be frightening, Lelouch knew; he noticed Suzaku withdraw a little, shock in his eyes. He didn't really care.

They began to speak, alternating, in the same low tone.

"For the evils it has committed,"

"I, the Second Princess of Britannia," "

"And I, the Seventh Prince of Britannia,"

"Have determined that the Holy Empire of Britannia no longer deserves to exist." "Therefore, we pledge ourselves now and forever, to this oath."

"WE WILL ERADICATE BRITANNIA!"

These last seemed to echo eerily, as if some ancient pact had been sealed, or some foul malediction had been released...

Euphemia and Nunnally, already asleep, stirred a little, and their faces darkened, as if, by some sleep-borne forewarning, they knew what their siblings were doing.

Suzaku looked at the siblings, and saw a darkness there that he hadn't seen before, as if the oath hung over the sibling's heads.

Like an axe.

He shuddered involuntarily, and turned the conversation away, to lighter topics…

The Voice of Akasha speaks: Time runs short. We may give you one last memory before the window is closed. Mark us, you who read: aid to one in need can uproot empires; even alter the course of fate. Hearken now…


"Suzaku!"

Cornelia called one last time, fruitlessly.

He still didn't appear around the corner of the crumbling building that she had been searching for the last hour for any sign of him.

She angrily swiped at her eyes. It was stupid of her to be crying. He was probably all right. She was sure that he was safe.

Right?

The last three days had not been kind to the little band of children. Their food was running short, and neither Cornelia nor Lelouch had so far been able to replenish it. Even with Lelouch's smooth-talking skills, he had failed in finding anyone willing to share the little food they did have, and Cornelia's thievery skills were of little use when over half the population was starving.

Not only that, they had encountered several roaming bands of victory-drunk (and sometimes just regular drunk) Britannian soldiers on their trek, and had been forced to hide. The worst had been a breathless two-hour stretch during which they watched soldiers beat a Japanese man to death and drag his sobbing wife away – Cornelia had barely been able to restrain Lelouch, and she had been as furious as he. The woman's screams still echoed in her ears.

Worst of all, they had lost Suzaku.

On the afternoon of the first day, they had been carefully making their way around the Scramble Crossing in Shibuya, when an entire squadron of Knightmares had moved in on reported rebel action in that area. They met with "heavy resistance" – their general word for hysterical locals throwing whatever they could at the Knightmares. She remembered it being used from when she had aided in the invasion of Area Ten. Probably was invented by someone like Kewell, she thought grimly – Kewell had been her martial arts teacher, and had had a firm belief in Britannian superiority, as well as a tendency toward "inflation" of the facts. She hadn't liked him much, but he had been a good teacher, and she had borne with him.

In any case, that "heavy resistance" was met with widespread slaughter. The crossfire had been murder – quite literally. She counted it a miracle that she and all three of her siblings had gotten out alive and unhurt – it was only after they had crouched in the deserted underpass, next to a scrawled red sigil, that they had counted, and realized they were one short.

Suzaku had vanished.

All of them had been appalled that they had lost him, but none more so than Euphemia. She had nearly gone into hysterics, and demanded that they return at once to the Scramble to look for him. When Cornelia and Lelouch had explained to her – though reluctantly – that this was impossible, she displayed a surprisingly furious temper, hitherto unseen by anyone, even Cornelia, and prevented them from going further until she had cried herself to sleep.

Cornelia had thanked her lucky stars that no one had been close enough – or cared enough – to investigate the source of the almighty racket, but it was with a sense of numbness that the four siblings departed from the Shibuya District the next day. Since then, Cornelia had been going on searches whenever they stopped. She ranged as far as she could go and still make it back before everyone else woke up to put the camp in order, but she never found anything. He seemed, indeed, to be lost forever.

She looked up at the smoke-blackened sky, and saw tiny stars winking at her through the haze.

Is this all we can hope for? That we can remember him through what we do? Through what we have promised?

Will I – we – never see our friend again?

A weight in her stomach, she turned to go.

And found herself looking at ten very drunk Britannian soldiers.

"Hallo, who's this?"

"Dunno, but take a look at her, eh?"

"What a charmer!"

"Why dontcha stay with us, lass?"

They guffawed. Cornelia, infuriated at their indulgence and indifference to the suffering they had caused, turned her back on them.

One of them stepped forward, stumbling a little, and grabbed her shoulder. He was young, but looked as if he was in command.

"Now, now, lass. What's your name? What's a nice girl like you doin' here?"

She jerked her shoulder out of his grip. She coldly replied, "I don't believe that's any of your business, sir."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Not so nice, then, eh?"

"Well, we like that type better, don't we, Jack?"

"That we do, that we do."

She began to feel a little uneasy. Martial arts prodigy or not, it would be very difficult for her to incapacitate ten foes at once, even if they were all the same height and weight as her, and these were all taller and heavier than her. Even though they were drunk, they were still soldiers…

"Listen, will you just let me go? As you see, I'm not Japanese. I don't want any trouble."

She hated herself for using that argument, but the situation was too volatile not to.

The man who had grabbed her – Jack – roared with laughter. "Ahhh, don't worry, we know you're not a Jap, lass. If you'da been a Jap, we'da just taken you and asked questions when you were nice and subdued."

The men were moving round her, cutting off her escape routes. Fear began to flutter in her chest – being at the center of a circle was never a good thing in a fight, and she had a horrible feeling it was going to be even worse in this situation.

"Please – just let me go. My brother – my sisters – they need my help. I have to go."

Jack smiled amiably. "Well, I figure we can do that. Right, lads?" The men nodded, not taking their eyes off Cornelia. "We'll have to charge you a fee, though."

"W-what do you mean?" Stutter, dammit. Worst possible time.

He laughed again, but this time it was predatory, not convivial. "We're lonely in this big city, and your face reminds us of home. We'd like you to share a little more of you. Maybe for a while." A mutter ran around the circle at this.

"But – but I'm Britannian! Why are you doing this to me?!"

Jack shook his head in a fatherly manner. "Oh, for goodness' sake, lass. If you're Britannian, and you're in Japan, you're either in disgrace, or you're a soldier. You're clearly not a soldier. So… no one cares what we do to you. Excepting yourself, of course." He bowed mockingly, and his eye flashed. "And your sisters. Tell me, where are they, exactly?"

"You bastard!"

She lunged at him, only to be caught in mid-leap by the soldiers on either side of him.

"Let me go! Let me go, damn you! I'll kill you! I'll kill you all!"

The two had her arms, and two more took her legs. They spread her out on the ground, and Jack walked up to her.

"Be sure to tell us what you want us to do and not do to you," he said, pulling out his rifle. He began to push her shirt up with it. "We'll take your advice under consideration."

Cornelia screamed in fury and fear, at her helplessness.

Schock!

Suddenly, Jack's eyes glazed over, and he fell in the dirt, blood pooling beneath him. The blade that had spitted him was withdrawn, and held by its owner at the ready.

"You Britannians. You're all the same. You eat everything. You eat everyone. You even – " his blade flashed over to point at Cornelia " – eat your own."

They charged him with a roar, dropping Cornelia.

He sliced them with a vindictive spirit in his eyes, as if he could cut Britannia out of Japan by cutting down these few fingers of its occupation. One by one they fell, screaming and gurgling, as throats, hearts, and stomachs were hewn, until only Cornelia remained.

He looked at her, and his blade swung to her again. "You know, I should kill you too. After all – you're Britannian."

She swallowed. She didn't think she would last long against a man who was that good with a sword. Be polite.

"Thank you very much. Your aid was m-much appreciated." Her voice only shook a little.

He laughed, a gleam of admiration in his eyes. "You're welcome, miss. Who says all Britannians are uncivilized?" He offered her his hand. She took it, and stood up.

"They were right about one thing, though," he said, looking out over the desolation of Tokyo. "No one but a soldier or a disgraced noble would be here in Japan. So… who are you?"

Cornelia shrugged. "A disgraced noble, then."

"Are you?" He was looking very hard at her. "I could have sworn I've seen your face somewhere before."

Time to change the topic! "Well, anyway, what's your name?"

He smiled, a little bitterly. "It's not important. Suffice it to say, I'm a Japanese man whose family has been torn apart. I was a soldier before… well."

She nodded. They stood there, a little awkwardly, for a moment longer, before he asked, quietly, "You hate it? Britannia?"

"With all of my heart."

He sheathed his sword. "I think… I think I will let you live then, if only because you owe me."

"Thank you." She bowed to him – curtsying had never appealed to her – and began to walk towards their camp, to rouse her siblings for another march.

"Hey!" She turned at the call. "You wanted to know my name, right?"

"Yes…?"

"It's…" he hesitated for a moment more, and then blurted out, "Naoto Kōzuki."

"All right. I'll remember it."

They stood for a moment, as if they wanted to say something, but the moment broke, and they began to walk away…

Eventually, the made it to the Ashford residence. Cornelia was delirious from tiredness, such that she could hardly remember the final day of their journey, and all of them were a little malnourished, but they survived the invasion of Japan, and weathered it under the rather unwelcoming wing of the Ashford family. All except for Milly, who adored having someone to play with again, and her grandfather, Reuben, who adored getting the chance to see them all again. They settled in, and everyone except the Ashfords assumed the princesses and prince had died at the Japanese hands. Tragic and sad, very much so, life goes on.

But they lived still. And the wild seed of vengeance bloomed within the hearts of the Seventh Prince and the Second Princess, and they waited for the time when they could wreak havoc on the nation that had ruined their lives.

They would destroy it, just as it had destroyed them, and almost taken everything they loved.

That chance didn't come for seven years, but when it did, they began to turn the world upside down…

The Voice of Akasha speaks: For now, you who read, you see enough. More will be revealed, but the door closes… wait until the time comes, and you will see their glory in full… read on, noble one, and mark the ties of fate as they come together…

Tempus Fugit – Part Two – Endings

Consumo.

*Footnote – Yoyogi Park is the park in which Meiji Shrine is contained. I know, because I used Google Maps for this chapter. Go me! You can look it up too, if you want to.

Author's Note: Well, after a great deal of slacking (and some schoolwork), this, the seventh chapter of THE STRANGER, THE SAINT, THE HORN, AND THE WORD was written. If anyone's stuck to me all this time, then I commend them, and would advise them to stick around further, because we've got a long way to go. Several notes and thank-yous: First of all, as always, thanks to xchrispx510 for beta-reading this (don't know what I'd do without him). Second, the next chapter in the story will be a battle-focused chapter, and most likely a two-parter. By the time this is up, I will have finished the first part, but it may take a while. Just thought you ought to know. Third and lastly, I have a small supplementary little drabble thing I wrote called Nina Einstein's Essay, which I will be posting along with this chapter. It is an essay by Nina Einstein (duh) about the properties and usage of the superconductor, Sakuradite. It's… not exactly scientifically accurate, but it will help explain some of the battle tactics that Lelouch uses in the next chapter, as well as expanding the context of Sakuradite and making it more than a giant Phlebotinum overdose. So you might want to read it, if you're into that sort of thing. Oh, and if you want to know why Lelouch didn't exploit these advantages in the anime? …It's an AU. Deal with it.

Thanks for reading!