Chapter 35

Suzaku Kururugi was pissed. Just what the hell did Lelouch know about anything anyway? Lelouch didn't know what all Suzaku had done. Lelouch would never understand what it was like to see his home destroyed in front of his very eyes. He'd never understand what it was like to watch people who he was supposed to protect die en masse in front of him.

And he would never understand the sin Suzaku had commit in his childish folly. That he had killed his own father. That he had tried to take matters into his own small hands and only caused more problems. The current state of Japan was his fault – and he knew it.

So, no, Lelouch was not in an adequate position to judge and condemn him.

Lelouch would never be in Suzaku's position and so he'd never be able to fully appreciate what Suzaku was doing. The sacrifices he was making. The atonement. And why.

Nevertheless, Suzaku had been more than willing to try to explain it to his childhood-friend-turned-prince. But no, the bastard had simply dismissed him before going back on his way to take care of whatever princely duty was waiting for him.

His first shaky attempt at an explanation had been summarily rejected and laughed at.

"You're such a fool."

Was he?

Just what exactly did Lelouch see wrong with his plan anyway? Not that he'd really got that far into explaining just what it was he was attempting to do. No, because Lelouch had wandered off before he'd had a chance to fully explain himself.

Was he missing something? Did Lelouch see something inherent and simple that he had missed? Something he'd neglectfully ignored in his planning phase? Uncertainty gripped him. Now, Suzaku was not an idiot, but he certainly wasn't a genius either. He was primarily a man of action – he'd rather do something than sit around thinking about it. He liked to dive in head first. After all, it was easier to just react to something than to plan for some kind of preferred outcome. He liked flying by the seat of his pants.

However, before he'd ever applied for Honorary Britannian status, he'd taken the time to think things through. He'd spent a lot of time, actually, thinking about it. Trying to think of another way to achieve the same results. Because he'd never been particularly enamored by the vows he'd had to swear and the way people would view it.

However, he did believe in the Honorary Britannian system. It was a good system in theory. It allowed outsiders like himself to obtain citizenship rights almost par with natural Britannians. It was just people and their unbridled prejudice that were ruining the system. If it weren't for the negative stance most of the Eleven's took on the program, and the racism from the Britannians, the Honorary Britannian system would be great. In theory. It gave hope to the Japanese.

So, even despite all the time he'd spent thinking about it, he'd still decided in the end that the Honorary Britannian route was the way to go. Because if he could get people's opinions to change, then changing the system would be exponentially easier. And if the system changed, he'd really, actually, have a shot at his goal – the Knight of One.

So . . . in a way, he supposed he supported the task Lelouch had assigned himself in Area Eleven. It was because of the rampant terrorism in the Area that he was never fully trusted by his comrades. It was assumed that all of the Eleven's were in league with the terrorist movement in some way. Which wasn't true. Suzaku had nothing to do with terrorists and he never had. He never would, because terrorism wasn't the answer.

All that terrorism was managing to do was put the Eleven's in a worse position than they were in the first place. And . . . they were in his way. If he was ever going to prove himself to the Britannians, he couldn't have them doubting his intentions and his loyalty.

Though, he supposed, that if Lelouch ever succeeding in ridding Area Eleven of all terrorist activity, Suzaku would be out of the chance to prove himself anyway. It was only because there was such a problem with terrorism that the military allowed Honorary Britannians to enlist in the first place.

"Private 404." His commanding officer called, drawing him out of his musings.

"Sir!"

"You had a private audience with the Wolf of Britannia?" The corporal asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Suzaku grimaced. He hated Lelouch's new nickname – it was a very blatant reminder that the Empire had reclaimed him despite the fact that Lelouch had sworn he'd rather die than submit to the Emperor again. Lelouch was a tool of the Empire now. "What did you discuss?"

"With all due respect, sir, the prince's business is his own." Suzaku replied, hoping to waylay his commander.

It didn't work.

"Yes. But your business is my business, 404." His corporal sneered. "What did you say to him?"

Suzaku hesitated, wracking his mind for a suitable explanation. Obviously, telling the man that he'd just been catching up with an old friend and trying to explain his apparent betrayal and decline in moral character, wasn't going to work. No one knew that Lelouch had been originally sent to the Kururugi's to act as a political hostage. As far as most of the world was concerned, Lelouch had been sent to live with the Ashford family for fostering in obscurity. So then . . . what to say?

"His highness was simply inquiring if I was injured." Suzaku lied (because Lelouch had never once asked if he was okay) and felt himself begin to sweat. He was a terrible liar. Everyone had always been quick to point it out – especially Lelouch who was so adept at it he ought to have been born with a forked tongue.

Lelouch had always been subtle and deceptive when they'd been kids. Suzaku had not. He'd been the painfully blunt and honest one out of the two. So lying, while not entirely foreign to him (just because he was bad at it, didn't stop him from attempting it), was definitely not one of his more refined skills.

"And what did you tell him?" The corporal asked with a nervous glare.

Ah, he got it now. Suzaku had had the ear of a man capable of utterly destroying his commanding officer. Had they not known each other, and had Lelouch actually inquired after his health, Suzaku would have had the opportunity to paint any picture he wanted of the man who lead his squad. It would almost assuredly not have been a pretty picture if he'd been honest.

"I told him I was fine, sir. I'm unhurt." Well, that was also a lie. He was pretty sure there would be a purple, boot-shaped bruise in the middle of his chest if he'd bothered to check, along with other lesser bruises and tender spots. But his commanding officer wouldn't want to hear that and Suzaku himself didn't feel much like sharing that information either.

No one liked a whiner, after all.

"Why did Prince Lelouch's assistant requisition the service of three soldiers to break up your meeting?" His corporal asked. Either the corporal was particularly desperate to hear what he wanted to hear, or Suzaku had improved at deception.

"I'm not sure, sir. I imagine because I'm an Eleven. The prince left shortly after she arrived." Suzaku reported. "I'm sure I don't have to say it, but I didn't touch him, sir."

That one, at least, wasn't a lie. He hadn't so much as shaken Lelouch's hand. Though his friend had looked like he wanted to make contact of a violent nature for a moment. Lelouch's temper tantrums had always been entertaining when they were children. Lelouch had the spirit of a lion inside the body of a house cat. So when he lost his temper and didn't know exactly what to do with all that pent up frustration, it was mildly amusing to watch.

When they'd been children, Lelouch had attempted to throw a temper tantrum of the violent variety a few times, but the thing about Lelouch was that he had been so very weak and Suzaku had been training in the marital arts for as long as he could walk.

He supposed that had to have changed now. Lelouch had alluded to his military training and part of any military training included learning how to fight with nothing but your hands. So he must have learned at least the basics. Still, despite the experience he'd had to have gained, Lelouch had still looked so frail. His friend was delicately built and, while that didn't necessarily make him a bad fighter, Lelouch had always been more of a thinker than a doer.

"Right. Good." The corporal nodded distractedly before turning away. "Carry on, 404."

Suzaku blinked in surprise as the man walked away. No racial slurs or derogatory statements this time? Had a reprimand from Lelouch really made the man that panicked? Lelouch was long gone by now and no one but Suzaku and his corporal would have known if things had gone back to the status quo.

He repressed a chuckle at the man's retreating back. Lelouch's bark had always been worse than his bite (or at least it had when they'd been children), but he wasn't about to fill the corporal in on that particular piece of information. It felt kind of nice not hearing 'filthy Eleven' at the end of every conversation.

Kallen was tense. Wound-like-a-spring-about-to-snap tense. But things were going according to plan. It was just that she hated waiting in limbo like this. It was the anticipation of something that could go wrong that had her on edge.

She was currently in the truck with Nagata waiting for Ohgi and the others to find and steal the gas. She'd had to drive when they'd initially pulled up while Nagata hid in the back to prevent suspicion, but they'd since traded places. Nagata had more experience at driving big trucks like this and she needed to be able to move to the Glasgow in they got in trouble.

When they got in trouble, was more likely. She had a bad feeling about this, try as she might to hide it from the others. Since Naoto's death she'd become something like the second in command of their little resistance group. Not officially, of course (after all, she was a rookie and this was technically her fist mission), but the others looked to her as their morale standard.

Because she was Naoto's sister and because they had been so close, everyone seemed to think that she knew what to do and what he had planned. This was not true. They were expecting her to step into his shoes and become what he'd once been. Needless to say, she fell short of the mark. Naoto had been brilliant, but he'd only given her a very brief, very vague synopsis of what the other teams were going to be doing when he'd explained his plan. No, it was Ohgi who knew everything about the strategy Naoto had concocted.

Still, Kallen refused to show anything but confidence in it. They had to do it. For Naoto and for all of the people who would die if they didn't. For Japan – to protect the Japanese. That was the highest and most esteemed ideal her brother had ever held and in this last mission of his, they would embody it as much as possible.

This was for Japan.

Dread curdled in her stomach as she heard gunshots echoing from the corridor that connect to the receiving bay where they were parked. What the hell? This was supposed to be a quiet job. Naoto had planned it as a quiet job. They weren't even supposed to have to draw their weapons.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath as she glanced out of the side mirror.

The sight would have been almost comical if the situation hadn't been so dire. Ohgi came careening around the corning driving a forklift. A massive, hulking globe of hoses and nozzles balanced precariously on the forks as he sped towards the truck looking thoroughly disgruntled. Tamaki was clinging onto the back of the forklift firing shots off at unseen pursuers whilst hurling insults.

"In your fucking faces, Britannian pigs!"

"Tamaki!" Kallen shouted furiously as she bolted out of her seat and head towards the side loading door where Ohgi was currently trying to load the poison gas capsule. "What the hell happened to sticking to the plan?" She demanded as she helped loose the capsule from the forks. She should have known better than to hope Tamaki wouldn't cause any unwanted surprises. It was probably the reason Naoto had assigned him to Oghi's team so he'd be out of the way.

"Go, Nagata!" Ohgi ordered the second the forks were free.

"Get in!" She yelled at them, but pursuit from the corridor was already catching up with them and Tamaki had stopped to reload.

Ohgi shook his head grimly before wheeling the forklift around and heading towards their original intended escape route (which just so happened to be on the other side of the three panting security officers who had pursued them. Ohgi made it more than obvious that he was willing to run them through as he raised the forks to chest height and floored the forklift towards them, steering wheel in one hand, his own gun in the other. She slammed the truck door shut the same moment Nagata spun the tires to get out of there, leaving the fates of Tamaki and Ohgi uncertain.

"Shit." She cursed again as she lost her balance and stumbled against the gas capsule. God, she hoped all this jostling didn't set it off. They had their gas masks, but she'd left hers in the passenger's seat in her hurry to assist Ohgi.

"Fucking, Tamaki." Nagata muttered under his breath, shaking his head as Kallen staggered into her seat and pulled her hat lower to shadow her face. "Sometimes I think he does this shit on purpose. Maybe he's just unlucky."

"You mean we're unlucky. We're the ones who have to put up with him." Kallen grumbled. "Let's get the hell out of here. But let's try not to draw too much attention to ourselves."

"On it." Nagata grumbled as he turned onto a major roadway and signaled to get into the far left lane perfectly legally.

Kallen slumped in her seat, heart racing in her chest but as calm as she could make herself seem on the outside as she waited for the other shoe to drop. When it did a few minutes later, to the chaotic symphony of machine gun fire ricocheting off the pavement and top of the truck and demands for their surrender, she felt like she might just be sick.

"Find us another route. You know the settlement better than I do. Which way do I go? We've got to get away from those helicopters. If they hit that capsule. . ."

"Yeah, I know. A lot of people will die and we'll be blamed for it. Crap, turn left up there. If you follow that road, you should be able to make it to the old subway tunnels. The helicopters won't be able to follow you and it will get you to Shinjuku."

"What about you?" He asked, picking up on the fact that she wasn't including herself in their daring escape.

"I'm going to cover you in the Glasgow." She answered as she once again got out of her seat.

"Kouzuki -"

"Listen, if they hit that capsule, we're all toast. I'm not going to let that happen." She argued. "You take care of the gas canister, I'll take care of the pursuit. That's what I'm here for, remember?"

She didn't wait for further argument and shed her cap and jacket on her way back through the trailer to where the Glasgow was hidden. She didn't even wait for the back door to fully open before firing her slash harkens at the nearest chopper and bringing it down in a fiery heap of slag and shrapnel.

She smirked at the feeling of power the Glasgow gave her – the chance to fight back. The Japanese had learned the hard lesson seven years ago that conventional military vehicles were no match against a Knightmare. These choppers stood no chance.

Two more went down to her harkens and KMF rifle fire, each scattering their ruin down on the city below. It was almost easy to kill like this – when she didn't have to see their faces. It was machine versus machine, not man versus man. Somehow, she felt less remorse this way.

Far above, a KMF carrier dropped a unit onto the pavement in front of her. It was one of those new models, the ones that had been especially designed for anti-Knightmare combat. The Sutherland seemed to radiate intimidation as it stood before her fearlessly for a moment.

"You're no match for my Sutherland, you filthy Eleven." A voice declared haughtily from the enemy cockpit before it charged forward. And it was fast. She barely managed to careen out of the way of his first attack and was totally useless against the second. She instinctively raise the Glasgow's arm protectively in front of the cockpit as the Sutherland's slash harkens collided with it, tearing the limb completely from the frame.

She growled as she launched her counterattack, scoring a glancing blow with her harken before she was forced on the defensive again. The pilot had been right, she didn't stand a chance in this fight. Especially not with the remaining helicopters closing in to take pot shots at her while she was distracted with the enemy Knightmare.

For a people who prided themselves on their honor and dignity, they sure fought dirty.

The Glasgow was an amazing machine, but the Sutherland was better. It was faster, sleeker, more agile. It had been built with the sole purpose in mind of destroying other Knightmares – rogue and abandoned units like her Glasgow along with the new, customized knockoff models Britannia's enemies made.

She needed to think. She needed a plan. And quickly! She forced the Glasgow to move, putting the obsolete machine through it's paces, as she attempted to match the faster Sutherland. She was already down an arm and if she let this fight keep going, she could only foresee herself losing more body parts.

Not to mention, that carrier had been toting at least one more Knightmare when it had dropped the first and her quick, cursive glance at the aircraft showed that that machine was now missing. If she didn't hurry, there was no way she'd be able to get out of this fight alive.

"Ah! God damned Britannian!" She shouted in frustration and rushed towards the Sutherland, only remaining stun tonfa held at the ready as she fired her undamaged slash harken at the machine. The pilot had thus far demonstrated a preference for projectile weapons, so she was hoping that if she could press him hard enough and fast enough she'd be able to make an opening for her escape.

It worked. In fact, it worked far better than she'd expected. She pressed forward, managing to swipe aside the slash harkens he sent straight at her cockpit (the bastard wasn't messing around) and get inside his guard. If it came down to a knife fight, she was sure that she could win. That little pocketknife she carried with her (the one she hadn't dared to touch since she'd killed that cop) became an extension of her own arm when she decided to wield it. The stun tonfa would be same.

The Britannian seemed to understand that she was in her element at close range and jumped back, only to slam into the railing of the bridge they were fighting on. She didn't wait to let him recover from the jolt and charged forward, slash harken and tonfa pushing the machine over the edge.

She didn't wait to see if the fall was fatal, instead getting the hell out of there before the downed Britannian's cronies could find her. Not that she was being particularly subtle. It was difficult to pilot a Knightmare down a busy freeway without drawing a few stares.

It couldn't be helped.

Glaring, she took off down the road, sure to avoid the subway tunnels she'd sent Nagata down. She would lead any pursuit away from the others. That was her job on this mission and she'd sworn she could do it. She would do it. They would complete Naoto's mission, even if she had to die to make it happen.

Lelouch had initially enjoyed the grand display of Clovis' petty insecurity at the Viceroy's Palace. His welcoming party was a joke. His brother had taken it upon himself to not-so-subtly show him just who he was dealing with here. And so his welcoming party comprised of only elite politicians, high ranking military officers and business tycoons. The catch?

They were all simperingly loyal to Clovis. It seemed that Clovis had spent a significant portion of the last seven years since he'd been made Viceroy establishing his power base. Although, Lelouch supposed he could understand the need for it since he hadn't been any older than Lelouch was now when he'd taken up the post. Not many people enjoy taking orders from a seventeen year old kid, so establishing a solid foundation for his authority would have been essential.

Hell, he'd done the same thing when he'd joined the military. First recruiting von Hoffman to his side, then Hector, followed by the others. It was necessary to procure allies when building up your power base and the more powerful they were, the better.

So when he'd first walked into the room and realized what Clovis had planned for him, he'd been goodnaturedly amused. So this was Clovis' response to losing their verbal chess match. A big, flashy show of power from the Viceroy's acquisitions.

He chuckled to himself as he let Clovis lead him from one sycophantic pawn to the next, mildly enjoying the discomfort he'd put his brother in. He wasn't malicious and he wasn't ambitious for Clovis' position (yet), so he found the whole display and the effect his presence was having on Clovis entertaining.

Or he had. For the first few hours.

He wasn't intimidated at all and eventually, he found himself wondering if he'd ever be granted a genuine welcoming party or if it would always just be political posturing. Schneizel had done the same thing (but for a different reason) when he'd first returned to Pendragon. He snorted ruefully as he remembered Schneizel declaring him a partner, not a disposable playing piece. His chessboard declared otherwise.

He pushed those thoughts from his mind - he'd deal with them when the time came – and glanced around the room. Clovis could learn how to throw a decent party from Milly Ashford, he decided. It wasn't that the hall wasn't decorated grandly or the hors d'ouvers were bad, or that the slow, classical waltz playing in the background was off, it was simply that the atmosphere was suffocatingly pompous. If was difficult to smile in a room full of people with superiority complexes.

"Ah, and this here is Deitard Reid. He's my man in the media." Clovis introduced with a flourish to a blond haired Britannian man who looked about as unimpressed by his surroundings as Lelouch was. He perked up, however, at the introduction.

"A pleasure to meet you, your highness." The man said, bowing courteously.

"The pleasure is mine." Lelouch said as he offered his hand to shake. He'd done the same thing to every one of Clovis' lackeys that had bowed to him. Apparently Clovis didn't deign to shake hand, so it was usually interesting to see how they reacted. He'd actually had one man kiss his hand in obeisance earlier – it had been a little awkward.

Deitard Reid, however, smoothly swept up from his bow and shook his hand in the same gesture. Obviously, the man wasn't easily flustered. Though, since he was in the media, Lelouch figured quick reaction speed was part of his job.

"Deitard here is responsible for crafting my public image." Clovis explained.

Lelouch wanted to ask if this man was the reason Clovis had been presenting himself as a whimsical, simpering idiot for the past seven years, but thought it might be rude. Also, he'd caught the slight, displeased narrowing of Reid's eyes when he'd been given the credit.

"I see." Lelouch said instead. "Well, I think I'll be crafting my own image." Though, in all honesty, he could do with a little toning down on the ruthless, merciless soldier routine. That would have to wait, however, until the Kenshiki were put down.

"If you ever change your mind about that," Deitard said eagerly with a cunning smile as he produced a business card. "don't be afraid to give me a call. I'd love to have the chance to work with the Wolf of Britannia."

Huh, so maybe not everyone in the room was blindly loyal to Clovis. Either that, or Reid had had Clovis fooled until now. A quick glance out of the corner of his eye told him his brother was none too pleased with the revelation.

After that particular encounter, Clovis seemed to stick to his more fanatic followers. General Bartley was introduced twice. As Clovis' most trusted and loyal adviser, he supposed Clovis figured the man deserved meeting Lelouch twice. The General was unfailingly polite both times, despite the paperwork that had to have been handed to him earlier that same day. He doubted either Clovis or Bartley would be all that pleased with the way he'd taken a large number of the Area's most efficient devicers as his own, but since he was operating under a mandate from the Emperor, there was nothing they could do about it.

By the time Clovis had introduced him to everyone in the room and started on a second round, Lelouch was quite sure he'd had enough of schmoozing. It was all well and good to network with the rich and powerful, but it was quite a bit less effective when everyone he was supposed to talk to was already owned by someone else.

Besides, he was sure that he'd have to participate in more schmoozing than he could shake a stick at in the upcoming weeks. Schneizel had sent him off with a mile long list of people he was supposed to make contact with while he was in Area Eleven – allies, he'd been told. He and Edith had affectionately dubbed it 'The List' and he'd been avoiding making any mention of it since his arrival in the country.

Again, there wasn't much point in schmoozing with someone who was already taken. Even if all of these allies did form a favorable opinion of him after they'd met, it wouldn't change the fact that they were in Schneizel's pocket, not his. So he'd skip on the unpleasant assignment for now, and would make it up if his brother ever called him on it. He was a master at slacking and had honed the skill into an art form over the last seven years at Ashford. He was sure Schneizel would be surprised by some of his tactics at avoidance. As would Clovis in a moment.

He excused himself to the washroom to get out of a conversation with a Duke with majority shares in one of the Area's sakuradite mines and chuckled in amusement when Edith followed him. Obviously, the woman noticed that he wasn't actually going to the loo. Sometimes he thought she was psychic, or maybe he was just an open book to her – or maybe it was just that the conversation he'd just bowed out of was an overwhelmingly boring critique of the current stock market and hadn't been able to capture either of their attentions..

Either way, he signaled for her to stop and continued on his way. It would look suspicious if they both went missing. But if she remained behind, it would give the illusion that he was still in attendance to the party – which he hoped very soon he wouldn't be. The trick would work for a while anyway. Long enough to get away, he hoped.

He turned left after a quick stop at the bathrooms and headed down a corridor to the kitchen. He was relieved when he bumped into a server from the catering company. The boy was built a bit more muscular than he was, but they were about the same height.

"Hey," He said as the server attempted to bow to him whilst balancing a tray of champagne flutes. "Tell me, do you have your casual clothes here? We look about the same size and some oaf dumped his drink all over my jacket." He said, gesturing towards the wet spot he'd made on his jacket and shirt at the bathroom sink.

"Oh! Yes, of course, your highness. We were given a place to change in the staff quarters."

"Thank god. Lead the way, please." He gestured, feigning disgust at the stain.

The teen quickly abandoned his tray on a side table and led him down one of the many corridors of the building. If he'd thought the Aeries Villa was big, the Viceroy's Palace was positively massive. The estate served as both the administrative center of the Area as well as Clovis' home, but even taking that into account, Lelouch thought it was oversized.

He followed the boy who seemed to know vaguely where he was going to a typical changing room with lockers covering three of the four walls. "Uh, it's just jeans and a sweater, I'm afraid. Not really anything acceptable for returning to the party." The server said nervously as he handed Lelouch the clothes out of one of the lockers.

"They're fine." Lelouch assured him as he shrugged out of his jacket. He changed clothes quickly, heedless of the awkward server who had respectfully turned his back to grant him some privacy and was pleased to find that the clothes mostly fit. He had to cinch the belt in to it's smallest hole, but otherwise they weren't too bad.

"Now," Lelouch said calmly as he turned a penetrating stare on the boy, "How about a hat and sun glasses?"

"Uh . . . yeah?" The boy said hesitantly as he reached back to rummage in the locker. He produced a faded blue ball cap and a pair of dark shades, causing Lelouch to grin. He accepted the items and put them on, checking out his disguise in a nearby mirror (it was unlikely anyone would recognize him unless they got really close) before reaching into his pocket for the money clip he'd transferred there.

"You wont tell anyone about this." Lelouch ordered, holding up several hundred pound notes as he fixed the server with his most intimidating glare. "Even if the Viceroy himself asks you about me, you'll tell him nothing. Understand?"

The boy quailed under the look as he hesitatingly took the money Lelouch offered to him. No, between his fear of Lelouch and the hush money, the boy wouldn't say a word. He hoped.

In any case, he didn't stick around long enough to further converse with the boy, instead fishing out his cellphone (initially brought so he could have Edith call him to interrupt particularly loathsome conversations) and sending a text message to Edith.

Edith, I've gone out. Run interception for me as long as you can. I'll leave my excuses to your discretion.

L

He turned off the phone before she could call him to demand an explanation and further clarification. By the time General Bartley got a call informing him of the terrorists' recent heist of their most precious research specimen, Lelouch vi Britannia was long gone.

AN:

Okay, so here's another one. This is the last chapter before I get sucked in to school and work. I'll still be updating, but most likely not as quickly. On another note, I've discovered that when I have to ride the bus for an hour and a half (only supposed to take 45 but because of the snow . . .) to show up at my class in the morning only for the professor to talk for 15 minutes before dismissing the class really pisses me off. I spent 3 hours on a stinky bus this morning and I didn't learn a thing in compensation. So, anyway, I decided to update this to make myself happy, or happier since I have to work tonight.

In any case, there are a few things I would like to address about your comments from the last chapter. The first being Area 2 (sigh). For those of you who pointed out that Canada couldn't possibly be Area Two because it was a British colony to begin with, etc, etc . . . you're absolutely right. In the real world, following reality's timeline, there is no way this could happen. Unless Canada was granted it's independence in the normal fashion after WW1 only to have it taken away again by Britannia years later. . . hmm, this solution just came to me so I haven't thought it through very thoroughly. I'm sure one of you will point out a flaw in the scenario. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that the Code Geass Wiki website declared Canada as Area Two and I was just following along. I didn't really think about our history when I wrote it. Btw, they've also dubbed Mexico as Area 3. So basically, what I'm saying is that you should blame the Code Geass wiki site, not me.

However, it was really interesting to see how many of you knew your Canadian history. I'm assuming you were the Canadian readers though I think there were some people from elsewhere in there too.

Secondly, apparently I'm an idiot for not making Nunnally a 2D vapid character without any depth of emotion and having her doubt Lelouch's love. (Personally, I think I'm doing pretty good. In the over 1100 reviews I have now, this is only the second one I consider a flame.) Anyway, just let me justify myself since that particular reviewer signed in anonymously. Obviously, canonNunnally wouldn't ever feel such doubt. Canon Nunnally was never separated from Lelouch (at least not until she was kidnapped by V.V.) and so never needed to feel such doubt. Please keep in mind that she hasn't had any contact from her brother in half a year now. Anyone would begin to feel doubtful in such a situation, especially now that Lelouch is back in the local area and still refuses to contact her.

To further justify my characterization, I will draw you back to canon. In the Code Geass anime (sorry, I'm not familiar with any of the mangas) Nunnally admits herself that she's selfish when it comes to LElouch. Her body 'decides to have a fever' to get Lelouch's attention because he'd been spending too much time away. Also, I'm not going to write Nunnally as the innocently naive girl she presented herself as in canon. She is a daughter of the Emperor and she's been with Lelouch as her primary caretaker for years now. There's no way she's as simple as she appears to be. Most likely, in my opinion, is that because Lelouch tries so hard to make sure she doesn't suffer, Nunnally tries equally as hard to be the innocent kind of girl Lelouch wants her to be.

Let's not forget the Damocles incident. Nunnally knew what she was doing when she was asked to launch all those FLEIJA. She understood the plan, even if it was Schneizel who had come up with it. Still, she agree to it - agreed to play the martyr just like Lelouch. I doubt she was foolish enough to think she wouldn't be condemned for her actions.

So, in closing, my opinion is that Nunnally is just as skilled at wearing a mask as Lelouch. Behind the mask, however, there is the daughter of an Emperor and the sister of Zero. Besides, it's easier to deceive people if they underestimate you.

Also, to the review who asked why I didn't make Euphemia one of Nunnally's dreaded rivals for LElouch's brotherly affection, there hasn't been any media coverage of Lelouch's contact with Euphy and the media and the Student Council are her only sources of information.

Anyway, that's all I had to say for now. I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I'm afraid that because so much is suddenly happening so quickly, there's going to be a bit of chronological overlap and backtracking. For example, in this chapter, Kallen's pov technically comes after Lelouch's, but I wanted to end it on Lelouch so . . . yeah. For the most part, I think you should be able to follow it. If not, please let me know and I'll fix it and go back to rigidly keeping things chronological (though I'm not sure how that will help for the overlaps).

Thanks for reading and reviewing. You're all wonderful and I hope you enjoyed this new chapter.

Allora