Code Evangelion
Stage XIV: Friends
For a long time, neither he nor the red-haired girl moved. The explosion had subsided. The earth was a molten pot of glowing, hot rock, and the sky a dead, bloody red. The two held each other fast, his hands burying her head in his chest, where she was safe from the worst of the heat and debris. He held her for his own life, as well as hers.
"Lulu, are you alright?"
Her muffled voice broke free of his arms. Having dove on top of her the instant that the Angel was destroyed, he had preserved both of them from the gory destruction of being crushed beneath countless blocks of rock and dirt.
"I'm okay, Shirley," Lelouch said. "Are you?"
She coughed and spat some dirt out of her mouth discreetly, and Lelouch smoothed specks of dust from her hair.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I had to call you here. It was…so damn stupid of me."
"Dummy, Lulu," Shirley said. "How would you know?"
"I…it was restricted for a reason!" he stammered, finding some quick excuse, since he did indeed know. She smiled sadly.
"I thought you called me here so we'd be alone…" she whispered in his ear. The burns on his face and body got hotter. She sat on the ground, leaning into him, her short skirt—silly Ashford; what kind of uniform was this, that only covered the upper calf—lifting slightly as she shuddered. He listened to her recounting the story of the battle, how she had been alerted by explosions and spooked by an unearthly shriek that pierced the entire mountain with its haunting echo. He trembled, too. His eyes had blazed with pain the moment the Angel met its doom. Something about the thing was deeply connected to Geass. If he had read Mao right…he would have ran into the Angels, and if he could not control his Geass, and if he had been forced to listen to the Angel's mind, he may have been overwhelmed.
A lot of ifs
Too many to sacrifice Shirley for
It made him feel like a complete ass, which he probably was.
"Lulu, are you really okay?" she asked, tracing the lines of wounds on his cheek.
"I'm fine," he said. "Don't fret."
The air was suffocating, thick with the miasma of that spectacular explosion. Plus, Lelouch's head was throbbing with pain.
"Let's go home," he urged, not wanting to expose her to any more military secrets paraded around in plain daylight.
"No, wait, Lulu, don't you…have anything to tell me here, where nobody can hear us?" she asked.
"I want you to be safe, Shirley. Now get going!" he said impatiently. "You're in danger here; please."
She nodded with pursed lips. He relented.
"I'll stay with you once we get home. I promise," he said. "I don't want to leave you again."
She smiled dreamily.
"'Kay, Lulu," she told him. "Take me home."
He did not end up having to stay with her for anything. She got home, fell onto her bed and fell into a deep, almost comatose sleep, and did not awaken again, except by her mother to be rushed to the hospital, where she spent the next two days sleeping off the shock of the experience. Lelouch, for his part, was not chewed out nearly as much as he thought he should have been, since he had hurt himself so badly to protect Shirley. Mrs. Fenette had even returned to drop off some snacks for him, probably due to some intervention on Shirley's part. As for the Black Knights, Ohgi had been handling operations very well, but he feared the existence of large security lapses due to his sudden leaving of the Nerv base, during which he hadn't exactly observed a clear procedure for security.
The door to his room opened, and a wheelchair rolled over the curb.
"Ah, is it you, Nunnally—" he stopped. It was not, in fact, Nunnally, but Suzaku whose wheelchair came to a halt by his bed.
"Lelouch"
"Suzaku"
The young men exchanged equally calculated looks, each attempting to read the other's thoughts. Neither spoke for a while, and then,
"What were you doing there, on that mountain?" Suzaku demanded bluntly.
"I was trying to get Shirley out," Lelouch countered.
"Why was she there in the first place?" Suzaku asked with suspicion.
"I asked her to meet me there, when I came back from the Homeland."
"The Homeland," Suzaku snorted. "Why did you call to meet her there, then? Why a backwoods area fenced off for military operations?"
"How could I have known?" Lelouch exclaimed with passable incredulity. "I was away, and could not have heard the announcements."
Suzaku's eyes lit.
"The announcements were not broadcast anywhere outside of Area 11," he said slowly. "How could you have even known about what's in there?"
'Clever, Suzaku, very clever…I screwed up'
But he had been here a few days. If Suzaku had asked the moment he stepped into the hospital room, Lelouch would have been in a very difficult predicament. More importantly, why is Suzaku acting so strangely? Was there a particular reason for his suspicion?
"Mrs. Fenette told me," he said. "She was understandably upset."
'I admit, I failed to capitalize on that point,' Suzaku thought. 'I can't prove that Lelouch has lied about going away.' He scratched his head.
"I suppose," he said. "Is…is Ms. Fenette alright?"
"Minor injuries and shock," Lelouch replied. "She'll be fine. What about you, Suzaku?"
The change in subject could not be easily countered without Suzaku exposing his intentions. He could only play along with Lelouch.
"I'm fine," he said. "Her Highness took me into her service after I came out of the hospital."
"I see. That's good," Lelouch said. What sort of work? It didn't seem to be anything good where an investigation into Lelouch was concerned. Suzaku was always blunt and tactless, and it did not serve him well here, which reflected on Euphy's lack of forethought as well. He smiled his best fake smile. Suzaku nodded.
"She was very kind," he said.
"She is kind, but not kind enough to put you where you really belong—a rehabilitation center and then retirement. You don't belong here, Suzaku Kururugi. You cannot hope to compete in this world. Don't be a fool. Go home."
Lelouch gave him a friendly smile, concealing a brooding pool of venom underneath.
"I suppose," he said. "That we can be friends again, like the old times…right, Suzaku?"
XXXXX
During the Second Generation of Knightmare development, a common soldier named Marianne "the Flash" Lamprouge had been the greatest ace of her era, so skilled that Emperor Charles zi Britannia himself took note of her and, later, married her. It was no small feat, though one she paid for with her life years later. Videos of her combat were, as to be expected, standard materials in Knightmare instruction and training, but not all of them were publically available.
Sitting back in a towel on the edge of a porcelain and gold tub, Asuka leaned her head into a soft, overstuffed plush cushion built into the wall for just this purpose. She watched the familiar scenes again, always trying to find something new that she'd missed on her last run. There wasn't much; she had bought her way into the secret archives and come out with mountains of lower-level classified material, and occasionally, things that the Empire forgot, such as the battle between Empress Marianne and the mysterious Knight of One, Tabris von Stuhl.
A silver Ganymede arced through the air, landing centimeters from the blue-and-white Ganymede of Marianne Lamprouge. It punched out, and was deflected by an uppercut of the other Ganymede's right arm. Marianne's machine's foot rolled onto the side of its wheels and swiped, missing as von Stuhl fly-kicked at the exposed cockpit. Metal hands smacked together around the silver knee-joint with a grip that would have crushed anything but solid metal, releasing to protect their operator from the silver arm that swung in from the side as von Stuhl spun on his other leg. Metal clanged onto metal, the duel moving back and forth, until Marianne rolled forwards, ducked beneath a punch with centimeters to spare, and struck von Stuhl's Ganymede.
Asuka stopped the video, looking for what she knew to be there. In von Stuhl's image, she saw the tiniest glimmer of royal violet flashing out. A month back, she had noticed the glimmer, and it did not help lessen her confusion at what happened next.
With inhuman speed, von Stuhl swerved, grabbed the hand, and threw the blue Ganymede fifty meters away, where its wheels found traction again, but not before von Stuhl caught up. With equal speed, Marianne threw a three-punch combo, two to one side and the final jab from the other side. Von Stuhl met it head-on, and fell over his controls as the fist passed right overhead. In the space it took for Marianne to fight off the inertia of the missed punch, a silver fist crashed into the flat side of her Ganymede's arm, denting the metal. It screeched, hydraulic liquid spurting with wanton abandon and wires blasting off random bursts of electricity. Marianne skirted a circle around von Stuhl to smash his batteries, only to find that von Stuhl had seemingly read her exact moments and placed his Ganymede's other fist at the precise spot where her Knightmare's good arm's joint would be, at the precise angle—46.5, by later reckoning—to strike the joint perpendicularly. The arm fell to the Ganymede's side, all but cut off, and Marianne was forced to back away at breakneck speed. Von Stuhl pursued, stopped just short of a sweeping kick and took out the knee. Now, Marianne had only one leg to balance the ungainly Ganymede on. She did not give up, bending the knee and screeching to the right, just as von Stuhl kicked to the opposite direction. The blue Ganymede skittered helplessly across the sand of the arena floor, throwing its pilot through the dirt, and was hidden by a film of acrid smoke from its overloaded parts.
The sauna timer beeped softly. Asuka turned off the screen and slipped off her towel. The hard, curvaceous body that slipped into warm, perfumed water never did disappoint her during a bath. If she were a man, her abdomen would have been bulging with lumps. In her case, they wrapped her middle in a tight hourglass shape. Exercise was better than any corset.
Her head sank through the bubbling bath, air escaping her lungs as she sank into the rose-scented water, hair floating up to soak up the minerals dissolved into her every bath. Wealth was as luxurious as it was tiresome. The bath was five meters by three by one, far larger than was necessary, but she had space to sweep across the tub, letting the automatic current massage wash over her whole body.
The Flash
The other flash
It looked like von Stuhl knew exactly where Marianne was planning to strike, and that reflex…it was unnaturally precise. His Ganymede had barely worn down its joints.
Annoyed, Asuka scrambled onto the seat set into the bottom of the tub and reclined against the soft back, turning off the massage currents and letting the water calm down. Without bubbles constantly spewing fresh scent, what was already there began to settle on her exposed skin. It was irksome, forming a light film of nauseating sweetness, which Asuka was too distracted to notice. To be honest, she was a little scared. The Knight of One was not particularly friendly to her. It seems that he was also making moves on Shinji Ikari.
She snapped upwards.
Shinji Ikari
Lelouch Lamprouge has been away from home almost constantly, leaving Ikari on his own inside the student dorms. It seemed as if the two did not, at the very least, have much of a friendship with one another. On the other hand, Lamprouge's sister spent the day outside in the school, and was often out playing with some newly picked up friend or another. Doubtlessly, Ikari would be at the mercy of anyone who happens to stroll by, and von Stuhl had an annoying knack for blending into crowds and sticking his nose where it did not belong.
As she thought, she turned the tap. Scented water was flushed away by a torrent of cooler, fresh water, and a silent fan began sucking away the dense air. Scented baths did no good if one smelled too sweet. The cool water crashed with the warm, jolting her senses back to wakefulness.
If such an important individual were to be left alone, as open to manipulation as he was, there could be problems.
A small clock set into the wall chimed. The bath stopped automatically. It was time for her to finish her bath. The water receded, draining away soundlessly, and she stepped out. The room was already chilling as the extractor drained the warm air, in the process speeding up her process of drying. The waiting towel and underwear were where they should be, along with a tight corset, push-up bra and a neatly folded silk dress with a hoop skirt. She grimaced. Duchess Langley was due to arrive, cutting short both an enjoyable long bath and her thoughts. She probably had another suitor to bring her—the woman was a little silly, though kind enough in her careless way. She was not, however, stupid. Asuka was the only one left to protect her interests when the Archduke breathed his last. Her choices: be driven out by an ambitious younger generation sooner or later, or be reduced to an antiquated accessory with no power of her own. Though it was annoying, Asuka knew that she had little choice but to protect this woman for the sake of her reputation, since the duchess is her titular mother and benefactor, though the latter description had ceased to be valid long ago.
Asuka fingered the strings in the tight hourglass corset. No use trying to just throw it on. Duchess Langley will tell in an instant if her adopted daughter—if any woman, to be exact—was properly dressed. Shaking her head, she pulled the string tight, wincing as the cloth wrapped around her.
"As if I need to go through so much pain for a man to look at me," she grumbled. "Men! What the hell do they even have in their minds anyway?" It was indeed an uncomfortable setup. The bra pinched out the topmost parts of her breasts, the hoops, though made out of lightweight carbon, still dragged, and the train was absolutely infuriating. She stopped to holler a few unladylike curses at a mirror, and then slapped on a game face. The business with Ikari would have to wait. Her mother would arrive soon. The small cottage was neat and clean, and well-furnished enough for a woman of Madame Langley's station, thanks to Kaji's expert eye for locating bargain rental substitutes that looked just like the real thing. Asuka sighed as she put on some ludicrous but "fashionable" piece of footwear that she could not even begin to name, and burst out of the back rooms like a vexed whirlwind.
Duchess Langley had not stayed the same airheaded girl that the Archduke set his eyes onto. With the years, she had grown wiser, older and more manipulative. The effort of countless plastic surgeons and piles of cash had kept her appearance in a rather attractive state, with a head of light brown hair and soft-looking eyes that hid a real court politician. With her was a young man of perhaps nineteen, tall, muscular, with an equestrian look about him. His hair was combed back severely, groomed to an irritating degree, a living effigy of pampering wealth. When Asuka entered the room with a dish of tea and sweets, he stood up to bow and take her hand, but stopped in surprise when the girl dropped a very slight courtesy, went to the table, and poured for the three of them. Only when she had served her adopted mother did she stand back up and properly introduce herself.
"Lady Langley," the young man said, kissing her gloved hand. "I am bedazzled."
"Lord Hartington, the pleasure is all mine," she said with a smile. "Please, make yourself at home. Would you like some refreshments?"
"As it is, I shall surrender myself to such an honor," he said. He seated her by her mother's right side, and took a seat across from Asuka, who sized him up. Typical nobleman, good-looking, well-mannered and clever in his choice of seating for her, neither putting her at too important a position, the head of the table, nor belittling her rank by putting her at any place other than the right hand of the most distinguished personage at the table.
"Asuka, dear," the Duchess said warmly. "There is no more need for introductions, I see. You children managed that quite well on your own, but…"
She glanced at the two attendants that stood with them.
"Why did you bring out the refreshments yourself? What are your servants to do if the mistress of the house is doing such work on her own?"
Trap
Asuka smiled obligingly.
"What stuff, mother," she said. "How can I be the mistress of the house? That would be you. Besides, how better for a daughter to show her affection than by personally serving her mother?"
The woman beamed with satisfaction at the girl, who took this break to sip a drink of tea. Her eyes flitted between her adoptive mother and the young man casually chatting with a butler. Alfonso Hartington, eldest son of the Viscount Hartington, heir apparent to a mining empire with a tremendous amount of interest in Area 11's sakuradite, rather high up on gossip magazines' crush lists. His financial prospects were about equal to hers, which means bringing him into the family could double their coffers, not to mention the fact that the Langley and Hartington estates would hold a vertical monopoly in manufacturing Knightmare armor and sakuradite drives. It was a good deal, she thought. The duchess has an excellent eye for cash cows.
XXXXX
Rei was sitting alone again, though that was only normal. As usual, Shinji scooted to her side, the only person eating with her.
"Hey, A…Miss Aldington," he said. "Why don't you eat with someone?"
She glanced at him with a cold eye.
"Must I?" she asked. "Is there any immediate benefit?"
"Well, don't you want…friends?"
She looked down at her lunch for a moment, and then pursed her lips.
"I…need no friends."
End Stage XIV