Chapter 8: Pieces & Positions

Sitting behind a desk in a comfortable office instead of being in a knightmare's cockpit on a battlefield he so rightfully deserved, Jeremiah Gottwald spends what remains of his military career as a pencil-pushing, paper working, ass-kissing, desk jockey.

For the umpteenth time today, a yawn escapes from the once proud warrior's lips, the rest of his military career reduced to a smoldering heap of cleaning up after the Viceroy's messes, the Eleven's pitiful resistance not satisfying the man's need to serve his country and lord one bullet at a time.

Jeremiah holds on to the ghost of the fleeting emotion that seems harder and harder to remember with each passing day.

He could still remember it, even with the air-conditioned room making him weak and the soft desk making him fat and lazy, the rush and fear of battle, the unbearable heat of a cockpit, the feeling of how simply pulling a trigger and pushing a single button could have such profound effect on the enemy. At least in his memories, Jeremiah Gottwald could find a warrior's comfort.

Seven years ago, after news of the death of Marianne's children was publicly announced, out of all the members of the military -royal family aside- it was Jeremiah Gottwald who took it the worst.

He took it out on the Japanese population.

In certain parts of the Britannian military, the act of defeating an entire enemy battalion while weeping loudly like an idiot is still referred to as pulling a "Pulling a Jeremiah Gottwald."

Without the weeping, it's referred to as "The Cornelia Method."

In what remains of Japanese culture, the word "Gottobaruto (Gottwald)" is now a culturally accepted slang for committing a war crime.

A calls rings, Jeremiah banishes back the memories, for this was no ordinary call.

This was a King's call.

For despite his relatively young age, Jeremiah Gottwald still had no mobile phone, thinking such devices were for the young people. Phones to him, were novelty items that served on the purpose of long-distance communication wherein meeting face to face was impossible. Nothing less, nothing more.

This call is different, for this one came not from an overly decorated flip-phone, no, this one came from inside his desk, which meant only one thing.

The Royal Channel.; the most secure channel of communication in all the empire's glory, unhackable, untraceable, and completely secure. A channel exclusive for the heads of the government and military, a direct line to the one and only Emperor of the realm.

Swallowing hard, Jeremiah picks up the phone, the technologically advanced design of the handle feeling strange but also unbelievably comfortable in his hand.

"Yes, your majesty."

"You really are old school, aren't you Jeremiah?" Said a voice on the other line that was clearly not his Imperial Majesty's.

"WHO IS THIS?" A hacker? Or worse, a terrorist? This was the direct line to the Emperor. The most secure line of the empire if not the world…just got hacked.

"How on God's green earth could you have gotten this number?!"

The person on the other line only bites back a laugh.

"You haven't forgotten about me have you, Jerry?" the Margrave's eyes widen, his mind pulled back to seven years ago, back to the one person he swore loyalty to, back to the tragedy that has shaped his adult life, back to the child he cared and trained.

"…Prince Lelouch?"

Jeremiah held his breath, waiting- hoping for the impossible to happen.

Jab, jab, right.

"…"

"…"

"Who else would call you, Jerry?"

That day, many soldiers on duty swore they heard the loudest tears of joy. Ever.


When Lelouch said that he needed a plane to pick him up, Jeremiah meant he thought a luxurious private plane. Being Margrave had some perks after all.

Calling in a favor from an old air force buddy, Jeremiah Gottwald lands on the airstrip, not even waiting for the doors to open before he looks for the child of Lady Marianne.

Time played a trick on the knight's eyes, in his mind Prince Lelouch was still a young boy, who he saw approach the aircraft was a young man, worn and world weary, holding himself in an optimistic stride with a profound strength in every step.

As the young man came closer in to view, Jeremiah noticed the peculiar set of clothing he wore, the usual attire for the locals but a novelty on someone who looked too western to pull the outfit off.

Jeremiah recognized the young man.

"Good afternoon, your highness." He says after practicing the line repeatedly in his head for the past four hours.

Lelouch smiles for once at the tittle, the way Jeremiah says it has a much more pleasant sound of it.

"Hello Jeremiah." He greets his old knightmare teacher, similar in feeling to how you'd greet your former kindergarten teacher. They haven't seen each other for nearly 10 years. In many fundamental ways, Lelouch was no longer the same weak little boy that was exiled from his own homeland. But for all his changes, he could still hold comfort in being recognized by one of the few positive influences he's had growing up.

He felt grateful that the uptight knight still held some affection for him.

God knows how few the number of people who harbor similar feelings still exist.

"You've been gone for a long time, your highness."

"Yes, I have." The former prince replied to his former knightmare teacher's understatement, he enjoys how formal at the same time friendly Jeremiah was taking this conversation.

Just like old times.

Jeremiah takes a casual note of the prince's attire. "You look very fashionable."

And just like old times, Jeremiah can still give the most awkward of exchanges.

Lelouch's smile was barely kept at bay, after all these years, still funny, still awkward, still a tad bit off his rocker, and still Jeremiah.

"Apart from the all the dirt." Jeremiah added in with an accepting look. Deeming the dirt an acceptable imperfection by his standards of cleanliness.

Lelouch looks down at his attire. His robes were black so it shouldn't be easy to tell if there was dirt on it. Was it really that messy? It slowly dawned on Lelouch that his standards for cleanliness might have lowered along the years.

Being prepared as always, Jeremiah stocked the aircraft with some clothes that were just about his prince's size. And the plane's bathroom was also equipped with an on-board shower. As expected of a jet worth 145 million.

Being back in the modern world of clothing and indoor plumbing felt amazing, like being home after a long weekend camping. The luxuries Lelouch surrendered away for his journey coming back to being more than just a distant fantasy.

After a long soak to rid himself of the dirt, mud, ash, blood, and other forms of particles covering his skin, Lelouch joins Jeremiah in the cabin's main interior room wearing casual designer clothing Jeremiah deemed worthy a prince should wear.

"Take us to Pendragon." Jeremiah orders the pilot through the phone on the plane "Tell them that his highness-"

The line went dead right where Jeremiah had said "His"

Jeremiah looks and sees Lelouch with a cellphone in his hand, remembering the hacking incident, he put the two together and realize that his prince blocked the call.

"I'm not going back to the Homeland, Jeremiah."

"But why?" Surely he still doesn't think his banishment was still on, the royal family would love nothing more than to have him back along with Lady Nunally. Miraculous resurrections tend to do that.

"You're not unintelligent. You know as well as I about my mother's murder."

Ah. The Assassination of Empress Marianne. How could Jeremiah forget his greatest failure, his deepest regret.

"You believe in the hearsay, then? That Lady Marianne was killed not by terrorists but by those within the Imperial family?"

'Of course, he does.' Jeremiah thought bitterly, the dots connecting in his mind 'He has every reason to.' More than anyone else in fact.

Indifferent and resolute, Lelouch looks Jeremiah in the eye and says. "That is not a question, Jeremiah. I know for a fact that my mother was murdered and who else but the royal family and the nobility could have killed her in the very capital of the Empire. Surely no terrorists could have been so skilled that they penetrated hundreds of lines of defense for the sake of killing just one of the Emperor's wives."

Jeremiah remembers this voice, the person who was speaking wasn't Lelouch vi Britannia, but the boy he saw only once, the boy who made a turn a phrase of his inspirational quote. The darkest part of his master was the one speaking, only using his prince's mouth as a proxy.

"Is it your wish to avenger her, then?"

"If I said yes, would you stop me?"

This would be the ultimate test of Lelouch's manipulative skills. If he could bring a man a patriotic and as staunch as Jeremiah Gottwald to his side, he could very well convince anyone.

Because a king alone cannot win a game of chess alone, he needed pieces; strong, powerful, and most importantly loyal pieces on his side.

First he'd have to…

"Never, your highness."

Lelouch was shocked, but figured it was a ruse or a poor attempt at tempering him. He examined the patriotic man, gauging for any and all signs of deception, he then came to an even startling discovery. Jeremiah wasn't lying.

'Okay, guess I'll just head straight to the second phase.'

"Even if that means I'd be committing high treason?" Lelouch said, testing the waters.

"Even if that means we'd be committing high-treason."

Only for Jeremiah to cannon ball right in. Again. With no signs of deception or deceit or even doubt what so ever that Lelouch could detect.

Either Jeremiah had spent time away from his busy schedule to learn Intelligence-based counter-interrogation techniques, or he was simply agreeing to help with a rebellion against his own country.

Lelouch wanted answers. Now.

"Jeremiah-"

Knowing exactly what Lelouch was going to say, Jeremiah raises his hand to speak his turn. "Your highness, I swore my loyalty to Empress Marianne, not the nobility that always sought her death." He began as an explanation, and then expound it.

"There's a saying about us soldiers. We are sheepdogs, you see. Cute and fluffy if you pet us, but when you mess without our flock." Once, again the goofy Jeremiah trails off, and beneath the mask of a margrave, a knight's loyalty to his master shows. "Then we get vicious."

Lelouch, a bit surprised, just watches.

"Your highness, Lady Marianne was an inspiration to all us commoners. She showed us that you could move up in the world even without noble blood or a title." Jeremiah thinks back, remembering the hardships he endured, all he accomplished because of a single woman and her skills that inspired him.

"The way I see it. This could be the single greatest thing I'll ever do in my life."

"And what's that?"

"Helping you, your highness."

For some reason, Jeremiah felt, even in his little fantasies were Lady Marianne's children lived, that no matter what happened, Prince Lelouch would always seek revenge.

"I'm going to start a rebellion to destabilize the Empire, possibly killing some members of the royal family along the way. Are you in?"

"Is this all for Lady Marianne?"

"No, this is for Nunally's sake as well."

"Okay I'm in."

This was anti-climactic really, Lelouch thought he needed to convince Jeremiah, a man who may as well shit the national colors of the Empire into committing treason, but here he was being convinced by the man he came here to convince.

"Life." he surmised his predicament in a single word.

Well, at least he now had a powerful knight on his board. One wasn't bad, and he'll needed every piece he could get. Which reminded him of another fast piece, that he's sure would be very useful…If he could convince her that is.

"If not Pendragon, then where will you begin this…crusade of yours begin?" Jeremiah asked, using another phone to tell the pilot where their destination will be.

'Crusade? Really? That makes me feel like some force of religious persecution.'

"I'll return to where it all started, where my life stopped being just my life." Lelouch cryptically says, "Back to where the Emperor banished me; Area 11."

Jeremiah can understand why Lelouch could have been drawn to that place. No young boy should have been in a war like that. God knows what he must've seen.

Jeremiah phones the pilot their destination, and the plane begins its ascent into the clouds.

"Will you be staying there for good? Or is it simply another of your little stops along the way?" Jeremiah looks out the window, hinting of the vast distances the world-trotting exiled prince may have been.

As always, Lelouch has put a lot of thought into his decision. From the very basic needs of his journey around the world, power was his most important resource.

Power is a lot like real-estate, it's all about location, location, location. The closer you are to the source, the higher your property value.

And Area 11 has a lot of property value, in terms of military resources in the forms underground Japanese resistance movements, and political power as it houses Britannia's largest mining resource.

And he had some connections in Area 11 as well, the Tokyo Settlement were his first hunting grounds. Every bully he punched, every mugger he kneed, every dirty alley he made livelier with a fresh coat of rapist's blood, he had some history there, more than anywhere else at least.

It is always better to fight in surroundings you are accustomed to, a lesson he learned from his time as a child soldier in the Philippines.

Lelouch eases into the chair, relaxing for the first time in…years before saying "As long as it takes." He promises to himself, no more will he run from one fight to another, he will stand his ground on Japan's soil and plant the seed of rebellion.

"I'm going to show the people of Japan and Britannia that the world doesn't belong to the Empire."

No more running.

Not this time.

"I'm sorry, sir but are you actually supporting the Elevens?"

Lelouch expected Jeremiah to show his thoughts on the matter eventually, better now when things are still starting than later when the true fight begins. "Yes, I do. Because they're as much a victim of the Empire as I was. If you hold prejudice against them, I can't blame you nor will I condemn you."

Jeremiah stays silent, feeling his muscles rigged at what his prince was implying.

"I know what you did, Jeremiah." Lelouch calmly and evenly tells him, resting his head on his index finger thumb while his pinky finger rested between his lips and chin. An icy glare beneath his purple eyes.

Jeremiah can't even look him in the eye, for it was too cold, even for a man like him. "Then you know you're speaking to a walking war crime, then?"

"War is a crime, Jeremiah. And I take it upon myself to enact justice on the ones in power who made a profit at the suffering of millions." Lelouch reasons softly, knowing exactly what war is like for a civilian…and a soldier.

There was something about Lelouch's contempt for war, a simple and understandable logic that made what used to be a form of pride for Jeremiah, slinking of in shame. His deeds that day, his actions under the thought of swift justice and vengeance became the most shameful moment of his entire life.

"You killed civilians…" It was then when Lelouch's words began to blacken, darkening to the point that Jeremiah began to fear where the voice coming from his prince's lips were coming from. "Not just men, but women and children."

His prince's words felt like enemy artillery coming down on him, leaving Jeremiah's ears ringing and making the whole plane felt like it was rocking back and forth, the simple shake of turbulence felt like a massive explosion had gone of near the aircraft, nauseating Jeremiah to the point that he instinctively covered his mouth in response to the motion sickness…and shame.

"The knightmare pilot that murdered civilians to the top, embodying everything I despised about my country, he then started a faction about blood purity for political power."

The memories he used to find solace in, the battles that filled his very being with pride, become horrible visions. The lives he's taken, no longer a score he holds as an accomplishment but a tally of sins.

Then Jeremiah sees himself as the monster he really was. The cries of hundreds screaming as he butchered enemy soldier and Japanese civilian with impunity.

He sees the faces, the women, the children, all the lives he deemed lesser begin to haunt him. It hits him like an earthquake. Changing his world forever.

But Lelouch was still not done. "And now he sits before me and I have half a mind to just ignore what he's done and another half wants to make him pay for all the suffering he has inflicted and finally end him."

Jeremiah squeezes his eyes shut, a part of him- his heart just wanting it to end. Even if it meant it would by Lelouch's hand. Because at this point, he firmly believes he deserves to be executed.

Lelouch's holier-than-thou look and tone disappears.

"But I know the truth. It wasn't a question of you just following orders." Lelouch's voice becomes gentle, understanding, reminding Jeremiah of someone else. Someone he cared for just as much as the son of Lady Marianne.

Lady Nunally.

"What you did, much like what I'm going to do… is a natural response to having a precious person taken from you."

To Jeremiah, that didn't sound like the "It wasn't your fault" he wanted to hear. But he'll take it anyway.

Jeremiah lowers his head, and gets out of his chair to kneel in front Lelouch. Head held low in anticipation for judgement.

"If your highness finds my sins to great or if you think I am your enemy. Then command it. And I will gladly take my life."

In that moment, Lelouch saw something in him. A similarity that he didn't expect but was pleased to discover.

"Jeremiah, that is the most Japanese thing you've ever said." He meant it us a compliment, and Jeremiah took it as such.

The willingness to offer your life to your lord- to die by his order. Are one of the traits that define both a Knight of Britannia, and a Samurai of Japan. A trait that defines the man before him.

For it is not fear or rage that moves Jeremiah Gotttwald.

It is honor and loyalty.

"Lord Jeremiah. Rise."

Jeremiah's orange gaze Lelouch's purple one's, an understanding between them is exchanged.

Lelouch gets down on the floor with them, the rocking of aircraft's cabin allowing for them both to kneel "Jeremiah Gottwald listen. Your steadfast loyalty is desperately needed here."

"And you can't die yet. Not until my mother has been given justice, isn't that right?" he then does what no other noble would normally do, he brings Jeremiah, a knight awaiting his lord's judgment, back on his feet.

It was at that moment that Jeremiah noted. Out of nowhere. That his prince had grown taller. Just another few inches and he might even rival himself.

Tears in his eyes, a fire awakens in his orange eyes. A strength he lost builds to something even greater, the determination shows, the broken man becomes stronger.

"Yes, your highness. You are right." The voice he spoke with losing all weakness, all insecurity. Only strength should be heard when speaking to a prince.

But Lelouch has a better option. "But if you're still that broken up about it, maybe you can atone for your sins and devote your life to preserving the lives of the Japanese."

"Is that an order from my lord?"

"No, it's your conscience. He called me to tell you that."

Jeremiah stares blankly at him for that remark.

Looking patiently for a laugh, Lelouch gives up and says "That was a…that was a joke."

Trying to save Lelouch's confidence, Jeremiah just gives a small chuckle in consolation.

"Too little too late." Lelouch grumbled.

And then they share a laugh.

A real one.

The kind that feels like their seven-minute reunion made up for the seven years apart.

Jeremiah leaned back on his chair and puts them both back on topic. "During the war, his majesty publicly announced that you and Lady Nunnally had died, executed by enemy soldiers. He believed that your deaths would inspire the Britannian people into action to crush the Ele- No, the Japanese."

Lelouch mouth twitched a bit into a faint smile, it was small step that could have easily been overlooked. But it was a step on the right direction.

"And believe me, your highness. It worked." Jeremiah insisted, and Lelouch agrees, even admiring the dishonorable strategy while thinking of his own.

"People needed dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy. I can't do this as Lelouch vi Britannia, even a prince is just a man, and a man is just flesh-and-blood and can be ignored or destroyed." Jeremiah agrees, nodding at every word.

"But a symbol…as a symbol I can be incorruptible, everlasting."

Leaning forward in curiosity, Jeremiah asks. "What symbol?"

Truthfully, if you were to ask Lelouch right now what could bring fear to the powerful and corrupt…he'd have no idea.

"I don't know yet."

This was not one of the things Lelouch put much thought in, blame it solely on his analytical mind having no room for creativity.

"Something elemental, something terrifying." And those were just the faints of ideas for Lelouch to go on. Which really wasn't much.

"Something…personal?" he adds to- and only- for himself.

But he had plenty of time, inspiration can come to him along the way as he prepares for his rebellion.

Hopefully.

That didn't inspire confidence. An uneasy look makes Jeremiah gaze nervously at his lord. "I assume, your highness, that this persona you'll be using. It's to protect those close to you?" Jeremiah guessed, but sounded more as though he was hoping that it was the reason.

Lelouch notices Jeremiah's odd question and asks. "Are you talking about the Ashfords, Jeremiah?"

Uncomfortably squirming in his seat, Jeremiah chuckles. "Actually, your highness, I'm thinking about myself. I have a title and desk now, and you know what the punishment for treason is."

At the moment, Jeremiah's collar felt just a little too tight for comfort.

Lelouch gives a reassuring smile "Don't worry, Jeremiah. That title of your will be part of my plan. And I know you don't give a damn about that desk."

That didn't sound at all assuring, but nevertheless, Jeremiah agrees easily to the last statement. "Guilty."

The plane already made a steady route, piercing through the clouds and the scenery was all but clouds and vapor.

Jeremiah puts on his traveling companions, an eye mask and a headset and begins dozing off.

With a smile, Lelouch follows Jeremiah's lead and begins to doze-off. What else can you do in a seven-hour flight?


It's been almost four years since Lelouch last saw the Tokyo Settlement.

The Tokyo Settlement. Just the very name makes Lelouch's hand curl into a fist.

From up here, the city looks like a shining achievement, a mark of technological progress, bright lights, tall buildings, wide streets make up the cleanest city you'll ever see.

To Lelouch, he sees nothing but a bloated parasite, grown fat from sucking on the life and soul of its host. Because from up here you can also see the outskirts of the settlement; the ruined capital of Japan, a decaying corpse of the once proud nation, still being sucked dry and in decay from Britannia's gluttonous imperialism.

From up here, the divide is clear as day.

Soon the parasite will swell to outgrow the host and spread its blight to the entire country, and the host will cease to exist, just as Social Darwinism intended.

A rancid taste accumulates in Lelouch's mouth, the view giving him nothing but bad memories and poor appetite. As Lelouch looks away, the sun sets on the settlement, its final rays of light leaving, shrouding the city in darkness.

From up here, the divide may be clear. But the night makes everything equal in the end.

"…And after I survived the tiger attack and returned the town's idol they patched me up in thanks and they let me ride their cart to the nearest town where I found a pub with a working phone. You know the rest." With that, Lelouch finished narrating his seven-year long journey, from Japan to Area 11.

Still caught between processing the story and figuring out how most of it was possible, Jeremiah rubs his turquoise hair his face contorted in various expressions of comprehension and confusion.

"That doesn't make sense, you why would they let a twelve-year-old be a soldier?!"

"They were desperate."

"And you were a spy for the Chinese Federation? How did they not know you were a prince?"

"Technically, I'm marked as dead. And I'm just one out of the hundred princes sired by his majesty."

"But ninjas?! How can there be real ninjas?

Growing tired of answering, Lelouch hurriedly steps out of the plane. "Jeremiah, get back to business."

"It's just a lot to take in, your highness." The knight apologized.

To be fair, it should be expected that not everyone could believe what the exiled prince has been up to since leaving Japan. Lelouch himself hardly believed some of the surreal experiences, and he lived it.

Already out of the lax customs, the two conspirators that airport security should be arresting for public safety are greeted instead with a warm "Goodbye" and "Thank You", an irony Lelouch planned. Security through sea had gone up ever since Lelouch pulled his little revenge ploy on a Britannian vessel, making sea travel a terrible way for Lelouch to return.

Air was his only option, and with airport security almost as bad as seaport security, the only way to travel would be through private plane. Because quite honestly, security is always lax when it came to rich people with private jets.

Human nature, simple as that.

Next to standing next to the car Jeremiah rented, a generic model in a common color as Lelouch instructed. Jeremiah opens the back and throws in Lelouch's luggage.

Lelouch hangs on to his beat-up shoulder bag, his League of Shadows scalloped gauntlet's the only thing he couldn't ask Jeremiah to hold on to.

While Jeremiah offered Lelouch a ride, he declined, saying they shouldn't be seen together.

"I can assume your fully aware of the plan." he asks as he hands him a dummy phone, and Jeremiah nods then recites his part of the plan.

"I resume work as always, I'll relay what information I can to you and before you'll strike at the Area's governing bodies I'll be miles from the blast zone, then I'll be the one to assume power."

"I'll contact you for further details."

"What will you be doing before then, sir?"

"I'm seventeen, Jeremiah, so until I'm legally an adult I'll go where all teenage boys should go."

A worried look mars Jeremiah's usually stoic face. "Your highness, don't tell me."

"Jeremiah, it's high school," Lelouch stated flatly.

"What do you have against high school?" he nearly deadpanned and Jeremiah just grimaced at the thought.

"Easy for you to say. For most of us, high school was a terrible place, full of jerks who beat you up for lunch money and girls who pretended you didn't exist and-"

Lelouch raises a hand to stop him "I get it." He's seen every teen coming of age film, so he knows exactly what Jeremiah went through.

"If I may ask, your highness. But what after all this time, what happened to Lady Nunally…"

Jeremiah turns back and sees no one there. Lelouch just vanished, disappeared without any explanation whatsoever. Looking around for a little bit, Jeremiah could not find a trace of him, as it finally dawned on him that he was alone in the hangar all Jeremiah could do was sigh in disbelief.

"This is going to be a regular thing, isn't it?"


At the exact moment when the grandfather clock hit 9:00PM, Sayoko heard a noise and stopped her dusting, a car had parked near the club, and she knew exactly who it could be.

Even without looking out the window.

Lelouch steps paid the cab driver his fare with a tip, with his luggage at his side, he stares nostalgically at the Ashford Academy. The moment he entered the school ground's the Shakespeare quote "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" became appropriate.

After seeing the entrance to the clubhouse, a warm, peaceful relief showered over him, a comfort even better than the shower on the plane.

He felt safe here.

He felt at home.

But Lelouch was no longer a fool, he knew that it isn't the place that makes a home a home, it's the people in it.

If Jeremiah was his knight; a piece that had free movement in the battlefield, what Lelouch needed now was a bishop, the king's sworn sword and shield.

Dropping his bags, Lelouch stretched for a bit before seeing her again. Unlike Jeremiah, he knows this reunion won't be totally civil.

Ninjas never are.

Sayoko appeared at the roof of the clubhouse, shadows concealing her very existence and armed to the teeth with every kunai at hand. In her mind, this wasn't too paranoid, when dealing with a member of the league of shadows, fledgling or not, this was the appropriate level of preventive measure.

Because whether Lelouch was a threat to her or not didn't matter. She had the right to test him, to see for herself the weapon that came out from the fiery blaze of the monastery.

And besides, it's been years since she scared him.

Appearing out of nowhere and scaring him was one of her favorite ways to get a rise out of her young master. It was right up there next to appearing out of nowhere and dressed in skimpy lingerie.

She moved slowly to the ledge, hoping to see him enter the building before appearing right behind him.

Sayoko sees his bags. Just sitting there at the entrance but she can't find him anywhere. The cab was still in view, her prodigal student of the shadows had vanished.

The ninja maid was sure he was just standing there a second ago. Literally a second ago. There's no way that he could have moved. Unless-

"That's never going to work on me again, Sayoko."

Her eyes widen, by saying her name, his voice sounded so mature, older. Sayoko turns around and sees her former student standing right behind her. His presence nearly non-existent, he positioned himself so well that every shadow and source of light hid his silhouette perfectly-even to her.

He steps forward giving her a better look.

He's grown, Sayoko could tell right away that in height, he had surpassed her. He lost his street-smart attitude, and gained a warrior's grace, and a ninja's timing.

She's been keeping an eye on him from time to time, popping up to check on him when she gets a lead on his whereabouts. The last time she saw him was from a distance, he and Dusan were in a heated game of basketball. He was still the same angry teen back then, no different from when he left.

He's grown so much, so very much. That Sayoko had almost no idea how long they were apart.

Lelouch quirks an eyebrow, her maid outfit still the same condition as he left. He missed the outfit, but honestly, he just wanted to hear her voice.

Words were never so hard of an enemy for Sayoko, but mustering enough control over her emotions, she smiles and says.

"So, that's what that feels like."

It feels like poetic justice that she should be at the receiving end of that one day. With her trick revealed, she lost her magic now. It was a bit sad, she'd never get to use that trick on him.

And to add insult, to injury, Lelouch looks pleased with himself. "Did I pass your little test?"

"Yeah, totally. You passed…but just barely." Sayoko fibs, saving some face and a bit of shinobi pride. "Your entrance was a bit too sudden, let your enemy linger first and don't be so far away next time, it's easier for me to escape or attack if you're that far away."

"Noted."

"Are you hungry?" The familiar routine of a maid awakens in Sayoko. If your master comes home after a long trip, a warm meal was an essential welcome…among other things.

"Don't worry. I bought us take-out."

"Aww…" she stops feeling special after seeing the meal "Really, Pizzahut?"

Unapologetic with his choice of food, Lelouch defends his choice "You would not believe how long it has been since I've had a pizza."

And so, the maid and master are reunited. Enjoying their pizza on the ledge of the roof while spending their time catching up in a familiar way that almost surpassed that of their roles and status. Lelouch's stories only slightly more interesting than Sayoko's.

To tally; Lelouch now had the undying loyalty of his Knight, Jeremiah Gottwald; an irreplaceable piece that's already in a powerful location, a quick and deadly Bishop like Sayoko, at his side that he knew would protect him, and the closest thing to a home he's had since the Aries Villa as his first base, a temporary Rook where he can prepare first before finding a more strategic base of operations.

All that was missing now where his expendable pawns, and a powerful ace- or queen piece if he wanted to match the theme of his plans.

After the final bite of pizza, Sayoko wipes her mouth, the overly familiar atmosphere making her forget her position. "Mistress Nunally misses you."

That was simply too tactless for her to say, once again, she stepped her bounds as a maid of the Ashford's. She had a moment to ponder what her master's reaction would be, she feared of the outcome, of the effect her words might bring. She braces herself for the worst.

If this was the same, tormented teen she kicked out of his own house long ago, he would have lashed out, violently.

Instead, he does the unexpected.

"I know." He states simply and calmly. Eyes drifted upwards to the light-polluted sky, full of city lights and devoid of stars.

Sayoko stares at him, only just realizing she was holding her breath.

"And?" she prods, dangerously she might add. But it was an important nudge for a reaction.

Her expectations were once again blown, Lelouch looks straight at her eyes. "I want to see her."

There was no rage, no malice, no lingering contempt, just a simple honest admission of his intentions.

But to Sayoko, even that was not good enough. "That's not what I'm asking."

Finding the fruits of his growth, Lelouch finally declares. "I'm ready to see her."

Finally, Sayoko rises, dusting the pizza crumbs of her apron and leads him back in the clubhouse turned home for the vi Britannia children.

"Her vitals have improved."

"That's good."

"The doctor even says, she might wake up one of these days."

END OF CHAPTER


Lelouch's Favorite Martial Arts:

Boxing – Teacher: Jeremiah.

The Art of Punching People (in the face).

Lelouch's go-to martial art, though his training was incomplete he has since refined the fighting discipline with thousands of fights. Not a master per se, but a self-taught genius with the art form.

Has the strongest punches in any martial art.

Measured correctly, Lelouch has the punch force equivalent of a professional welter weight boxer.

Aikido – Teacher: Tohdoh

A strictly defensive Japanese martial art that emphasizes control of a stronger opponent through the use of throws and joint locks over strikes and kicks.

Lelouch's first formally trained martial art, his default style when in desperate times when under extreme amounts of exhaustion. Useful for a tired user as it requires minimal effort with maximum results.

Officially, his first and only mastered martial art under a legitimate martial arts master. Eventually, Lelouch found the martial art to be highly susceptible to kicks and overly passive, forcing Lelouch to learn other disciplines to counter this weakness.

Ninjutsu – Teachers: Sayoko, Dusan, League of Shadows.

The Art of Stealth Combat.

The League of Shadows dominant fighting art. Relying on stealth attacks from unpredictable positions and angles from either close or long range. Ninjutsu practitioners must be the at the peak of physical performance, as the art requires exceptional strength, unparalleled speed, and inhuman amounts of patience to be truly used effectively.

Lelouch's most important and emphasized martial art. With Sayoko, he's training with ninjutsu was more on the knife throwing aspect of the martial art or shurikenjustu and later disarming techniques and weapon on weapon combat. His time with the League of Shadows made him a fully-fledged master of all the martial art's aspects; stealth, pressure points, joints locks, disarming techniques, and most importantly theatricality and deception.

Now one of the world's leading practitioner of ninjutsu, if you had to describe Lelouch as a fighter in a single word; he would be a ninja.

Arnis - Escrima - Teacher: Saavedra

Stick Fighting and a close-range Filipino martial art focusing on parries followed by strikes or joint control holds against the weak points in an enemy's anatomy, often through the use of a weapon, primarily a stick. Emphasis on using speed to seize the initiative and exploit an opening instead of simply waiting for an opening like most defense oriented martial arts.

One of Lelouch's first answers to the passive style of Aikido, a reply of superior firepower instead of passive defense.

During his time as a student to Saavedra, the master once mentioned that Lelouch was at the level where in he was good enough to teach the martial art and pass on the teachings but not yet able best Saavedra in a duel.

Krav Maga – Teacher: Flemming

Statistically speaking, in the wet line of work [1], most assailants would be armed with firearms nine times out of ten. Knowing this, the OSI, and many other intelligence agencies around the world train their personnel in Krav Maga, not a martial art per see, but an effective fighting method that focuses in disarms and attacking the bodies weakest points.

Emphasizes on simplicity and natural human instincts for and against violence.

If Aikido was the gentle art of disarming where the opponent walked away, Krav Maga was the disarming method you'd use to make sure that the bastard pointing a gun at you would be too traumatized to ever be near a firearm again for the rest of his life. Some techniques actually promote the rapid use of said disarmed weapon, and example is making the enemy stab himself with their own knife…repeatedly.

The easiest to martial art learn in Lelouch's opinion as Krav Maga has literally no complicated moves. Promoting natural human reactions as the basis for techniques.

Flemming's instructions mostly focused on disarming firearms and wrestling techniques. Using underhanded blows that aim at the enemy's weak points. (neck, eyes, groin). Lelouch finds this the most practical as well as the most dishonorable martial art in his arsenal.

Kung-Fu (Northern Shaolin, Tiger-Crane, Tai Chi) – Teacher: Prisoner No. 35712

It's Kung-Fu.

Enough said.

Judo – Teacher: Dusan, League of Shadows

Lelouch summarized it as the art of throwing people. He later changed it to the art of rag dolling people.

At first, Lelouch lacked many of the key physical traits to be an effective practitioner of Judo, but eventually, with time and effort, he built the correct physique.

At the end of his training, Lelouch found the martial art to be pretty enjoyable, there's just something about throwing a man twice your age and weighing 200 pounds of Satan that makes you feel an accomplishment.

Wing Chun – Teacher: Dusan, League of Shadows.

A logical and scientific martial art that is perfect for a rationality driven, irrational radical pragmatist.

A martial art with focus on penetrating force acquired through overpowering aggression, simplicity of movement, shortest distance to the target, simultaneous offense and defense, precise positioning, physics and body mechanics.

Focuses on the Centerline Theory, attacking close to the center, directly at your opponent. It's ideal for a teenager Lelouch's size as he is lighter and smaller than the majority of his opponents.

It also made up most of Lelouch's weapon based techniques, as Wing Chun also specializes in a wide-variety of weapon.

Truthfully, Lelouch only enjoys using the wooden training dummy. A better training partner than a homicidal teenager out for his blood whenever they had a friendly spar.

Taekwando -Teacher: Dusan

A martial art that primarily attacks using kicks. Taekwando is a martial art Lelouch seems to favor less in combat as kicks are dangerous in real-life combat scenarios but the sheer difference of power between a simple punch and a kick outweighs the risk many times.

Because as the saying goes, "It takes an entire boxing combo to the head to knock-out an opponent, but it only takes single kick to do the trick."

Currently, he is figuring out and familiarizing himself with the martial art to be able to use it naturally and seamlessly in combat.

Muay Thai -Teacher: Dusan

The Art of Eight Limbs.

One of the most popular martial art in the League of Shadows. Uses elbows and knees during close-quarters situations where Lelouch can't extend his whole arm or leg.

Lelouch uses this fighting style sparingly, considering his how dangerous it could be to the enemy and the practitioner. Only using it when the enemy has gotten past his other forms of defense. If Lelouch would ever use Muay Thai in a fight, that only means he is in a dire situation.


AN: Next update on the 22nd. Thanks for reading.