Recap: Nunnally, Euphie, and Kallen discovered Mr. Cameron's murder/assassination after their controversial student film. Roy is struggling with Lelouch's absence and Marianne's visit has made him suspicious. Suzaku is totally not stalking Lelouch through magazines.
Chapter 6: Standing on the Edge
The story of Poulin's affair continues to develop. The photos have been verified, and three independent sources confirmed that Poulini and Katherine Fang shared a hotel room. Now, a Russian oil tycoon has come forth, claiming to have evidence tying Fang to top officials in the Chinese Federation. So far, the Consulate has not responded to our request for a comment, but we hope to address the allegations at tomorrow's press conference.
If true, it will further shake people's trust in the administration. Already, people are calling for Poulini's resignation. Mr. Verley, President Beaux's opponent, has been leading the charge, declaring the current administration corrupt and incompetent for allowing a spy near top officials.
—Point de Vue: Secretary of Defense, Raoul Poulin's Affair with Alleged Spy
Outer Concessions, Tokyo, Area Eleven
Kallen had known there would be repercussions for their short film. She expected censure and, at worst, an investigation into Ashford Academy under some paper thin excuse. Busy with piloting, she barely spared a thought to the impending consequences.
It felt good to finally stick it to Britannia. Even if it was a meaningless little school project.
Kaguya was going to be so disappointed when she found out. Fortunately, she was keeping her distance, and Kallen was happily delaying the inevitable lecture. Patience was perhaps a necessity, but that didn't mean Kallen had to do nothing.
She could fight and prove herself
Potentially even recruit allies for the JLF at Ashford.
The student council had a surprising amount of depth. Shirley had lost family in Area Two, although she blamed the Count and not the military for their disproportioned actions. She was inherently nice, despite her fanatically tracking the mysterious Zero through the press.
Rivalz's own family troubles left him highly critical of nobility and the power of the courts.
Milly had revealed herself to be quite aware despite the perverted and airheaded act she put on. Or, she could actually be perverted. Frankly, Kallen couldn't tell.
Euphie, their newest member, was more of a mystery. She had connections according to Lord Ashford. She understood military tactics and easily broke down famous battles in history. Unfortunately for everyone who thought to cheat off her, she breathed military terminology, leaving even the instructor confused. Despite that, she was abysmal at history and, in a rare break of composure, once threw the textbook across the room.
Nunnally was… Nunnally. A mess of contradiction toeing the line of treason. And wherever she went, Allie would follow.
They were good people... They had even spoken against the Britannian mindset.
Now, there was an innocent man, dead in a bathtub filled with blood.
Her fists clenched as she watched Nunnally and Allie quietly converse as they led the way through crumbling roads and past debilitated buildings. Did they even have a plan? She could only hope.
The area wasn't safe and finding death so suddenly... It would drive anyone to poor decisions.
She should've turned around. Protected her cover and played the part of the loyal student, who saw nothing wrong in the Britannian way. Except she had already failed by not speaking against the foolish film.
She knew better. Britannia would never change of its own volition.
Yet, Allie and Nunnally were determined to right the wrong. Euphie had decided to follow them despite her protests and idiotic faith in Britannia.
They were all going to die. Gutted by some desperate vagrant. Or kidnapped to never see the light of day and satisfy some psycho's fantasy.
"Are you mad at me as well?" Euphie asked, pulling her coat tighter. "I just... If everyone were to do the right thing, then none of this would happen. Maybe it wouldn't be perfect, but people are good... Do you really think he was murdered?" Her voice cracked. "That Clovis—"
How could Euphie have that much faith in people? Only a Brittannian could afford to be so naive.
Kallen bit back her harsh words and stuffed her fists in her pockets. "I think it is mighty convenient and there's a motive. I don't think we will find any evidence. The prince isn't sloppy enough to be caught and tarnish his stellar reputation."
In the end, the actor would remain one of the countless victims of Britannia's oppression.
"So you think Nunnally is right..."
"It's not that..." Kallen searched for the right words. The Britannian words. "Since last year, there've been seven assassination attempts on my father. They don't like his business dealings. Especially because he and Lord Ashford are moving more into the commoner's market. Change scares people. And when powerful men are angry, they retaliate."
"But he didn't do anything wrong. And I checked because Nunnally was so worried. It wasn't against the law." Hunching her shoulders, Euphie scuffed her shoes against the ground. "She knew though, and I didn't believe her. Am I really such a fool?"
Yes. Without a doubt.
"Nunnally has more experience," Kallen said diplomatically, wondering why she was always the one having to comfort her. Euphie was some sheltered, posh noble. And Kallen was... Kallen. She was grossly underqualified for this.
"No, she doesn't," Euphie said bitterly. "I'm the one who is always listening and asking questions. I know what everyone is doing. What they're happy about. What they are afraid of. And they trust me. Nunnally just ignores everyone and plays chess with Sch— She calls them all liars. Which yes, but those are polite lies. No one is going to air their dirty laundry."
"You know her better than I do..." Kallen frowned. "Even if she acted like you, people would treat her differently because she's blind and a commoner."
Unlike Nunnally, Euphie was a fountain of accidental tidbits. Instead of solving the contradiction that was Nunnally Lamperouge, it made everything more confounding.
Perhaps Nunnally was a noble herself. But then why shirk the protection of nobility? The teachers and students would be much more respectful, if she was. And her brother was most definitely a regular soldier according to everyone. No sane noble would risk their life by entering the hellscape of the enlisted ranks.
"I guess," Euphie mumbled. "Lots of people are still rude to her mother which is stupid. She more than earned everything she got."
Then it was her mother's influence that gave Nunnally such access? She was a knight. But her children would never inherit her title. Most commoner raised knights used their newfound rank to marry into nobility.
"Is her father even in the picture? Nunnally only ever talks of her mother... Is he even alive?" Kallen probed.
"My sister says he was always enamored with her mother. She has such a warm heart and enough accomplishments to easily fill hours of conversation." Euphie looked around the dirty streets as people passed them with patched clothes. "She would be disheartened by the poverty here. Perhaps the proceeds from Milly's next grand affair can be donated to a charity here."
Only when they finally stopped before an old, smoggy, mechanic shop, Kallen realized that Euphie had failed to answer her question. A chapter on pleasant discourse from her etiquette book—Lord Ashford and Naoto were incredibly insistent she learned from which was ridiculous; Kallen's manners were fine—rose in her mind. The art of leading conversation away from tenuous and embarrassing topics.
For Euphie, it had been effortless. Kallen had barely noticed. Would've thought her mind had suddenly wandered and the segue, unintentional. Except, she had lead with praise. Tied it into an observation of their surroundings. And ended with a leading statement.
In the entire course of their conversation afterwards, she had never asked a question, only suggesting topics.
Whether Nunnally's father was in the picture or even alive remained a mystery.
Kallen narrowed her eyes. Euphie, unaware, stood calmly, completely unperturbed by the filth around her. Initially, she had looked out of place. Now, she stood like a sovereign, expecting the entire world to bow at feet.
Euphie Lichtberg—if that even was her real name—was not some minor noble.
She had connections, Lord Ashford had said. Right. More like she was the connection. A deadly enemy. Or a powerful ally.
No wonder she was so sheltered. The upper court barely deigned to interact with the lower court. The concerns of commoners were so far beneath their notice.
Yet, how did Nunnally factor into this puzzle?
"Lost, girls?" a woman called out, her clothing scandalously bare and inappropriate for the weather. "I'm sure I can help some fella galls out." She sauntered closer, grinning. "For a price."
Allie detangled herself from Nunnally, yet continued to hold her hand. "Is Brian in?"
The restaurant owner?
The smile fell. "Hear that boys, the twerp wants to see Brian!" She leaned in closer and Kallen averted her eyes. "Now, what would he want with a bunch of twerps such as yourself?"
Nunnally squeezed Allie's hand before letting go and stepping closer to Kallen. Around them, the sounds of production ceased as everyone focused on them. A lumbering man in the corner stood, his jacket briefly stretching and revealing the contour of a gun.
Why couldn't Kallen have made some normal Britannian friends? Ones that wouldn't get her killed.
"I have something to ask of him," Allie answered with painfully false bravado.
Kallen took a step forward. As the eldest, she should take charge. At least she knew how to fight. Nunnally's arm blocked her, and she slowly shook her head.
"Scram," ordered the lumbering man, walking forward.
Undeterred, Allie raised her chin. "Not before we see Brian. It's somewhat urgent. I know he's here."
"Don't give a shit. Brats like yourself, scram or work. Ya too soft for the latter." He sneered. "Now, get."
"What's the hold up here? I'm not running a charity here." Brian stepped forward and his eyebrows rose, catching sight of them. "What the hell are you brats all the way out here for?"
"We need to talk to you about something," Allie said. "It concerns some apartments of yours."
His eyes flicked towards Nunnally. "Fine. Follow me."
"Nunnally," Euphie whispered as they followed. "He doesn't strike me as the most trustworthy fellow."
"Not now," Nunnally hissed.
"Tell your brother, girl, to hurry back so I can prove once and for all that my curry recipe is superior. Last time was beginner's luck," Brian said.
"Of course," Nunnally assured. "I'll remind him to drop by when he has time."
Kallen frowned. She had heard the other student council members rave about her brother's cooking before, but curry wasn't a typical Britannian recipe. And how the hell did he even meet such a shady man?
Inside a makeshift office, Brian gestured at a few scattered crates and fell into a weathered armchair. "Take a seat, kids. Now, unless that posh academy of yours is investing here, you betta start talking real fast."
"Andrew Cameron was renting one of your apartments under a pseudonym," Allie began, her back straight.
Brian leaned forward. "The movie star? Here? He giving autographs?"
"He's dead," Allie said bluntly. "Apparent suicide. We want to know what actually happened. It's bad business for you, if people are getting killed in your territory."
At times, the differences between Japanese and Britannian culture, surprised Kallen. In Britannia, suicide was always seen as the most dishonerable act. The best way to die was in battle or an assasination. Barring that, old age.
But dying due to an unfortunate accident? It was seen as a sign of shame.
Ending one's own life brought dishonor upon the entire family. Perhaps this was why Nunnally was so insistent on pursuing his. Not only was Mr. Cameron's name smeared, his entire family risked losing access to his savings and future royalties.
Frowning, Brian pulled out a small box of cigarettes and silently extended it to them. "No? He died in his room, right? Else, I'd already know. Problem is most folks around here would just stab him. If they're smart, they'd hide the evidence." He lit his cigarette. "No need ta make it look like anything else. And you have suspicions, don't ya?"
"We only need proof that it was murder. Someone had to have seen something. Everyone knows everyone here. An outsider would've been noticed."
He exhaled slowly and gestured to Nunnally. "The only reason why I'm even bothering listening is because I owe her brother a favor. But murder investigations don't fall under that. There's no incentive really. An outsider killed another. A fairly high profile one, probably with many enemies. As long as it doesn't happen again, there's no need to concern myself with it."
"Lelouch wouldn't associate himself with a criminal like yourself. He's too honorable for—" Euphie cut off as Kallen drove an elbow into her side.
"I'm a mere businessman," he said. "All above the board. I even pay my patriotic taxes. Plus a little donation to the Knight Police."
"You're an Eleven with a gun," Euphie countered.
"Euphie. Not the time," Kallen hissed. They really should have left her behind. She would probably be heartbroken to learn Kallen was with the JLF.
He snorted and tossed at her a worn passport. "Honorary Britannian, sweetheart. Never was an Eleven. And this gun is perfectly legal. Filed all the proper paperwork and everything. "
He didn't have full citizenship, so clearly hadn't immigrated before the invasion. Nor could he be half like Kallen. Yet to never have been an Eleven...
Kallen sneered. "You honorless scum. You sold out Japan. Don't you have any pride in being Japanese? In your country?"
Surprise flashed across his face, then his eyes hardened. Icily, he said, "I was never Japanese despite living here. Same for my parents. And their grandparents. Japan took everything from us. Sold our island so the E.U. could have their little military base post the Pacific War and then ignored us as they destroyed our sacred coasts. Funnily enough, Britannia invades and all of a sudden, I'm for the first time in my life, Japanese. They only cared about us after they lost."
He laughed. "So when the Britannians came knocking and offered us a deal, we accepted. Don't insult me by calling me Japanese. They turned their back on us a long time ago, so we turned on them."
"How many died because of your cowardice?" Kallen asked.
"Does it matter? My family didn't." He dared to shrug and exhaled slowly, sending smoke drifting her way. "And we got Honorary status along with a tidy sum."
Seething, Kallen stood. "We will not find any help here from a man who willfully betrayed his country, only a knife between our ribs."
Nunnally tilted her head.
"I agree," Euphie said, surprising her. "A man's first loyalty should always be to his country. To turn his back on their country is the worst betrayal. Britannia may have paid you, but you will always turn to the highest bidder. We're leaving."
"Sit down," Nunnally ordered. "My apologies Brian. I thought my companions would have the courtesy to remember their manners. I humbly beg for your forgiveness for my oversight."
"I'm sorry," Allie whispered. "I should've—"
"—No matter," Nunnally cut in. "I understand you will be taking a considerable risk investigating the matter. Naturally, I am willing to compensate you for this matter."
He snorted. "You're doing better than your brother. His friend tried to shoot me. Twice." Chuckling, he leaned back. "Very well. Who's the suspect?"
"Prince Clovis," Nunnally said hesitantly.
"Hell no. You trying to kill me lass? I prefer my ass far away from any royals."
"Find me the proof that Mr. Cameron didn't kill himself, and I'll do the rest. Trouble for Clovis can only help your business."
Kallen gaped at Nunnally's blatant audacity. Telling someone she was targeting a royal? She had a death wish. And was dragging Kallen into the hot water. She wanted to fight, but a Britannian school girl's plot was not how she imagined it.
Brian stroked his chin, observing the rest of them. "That's a lofty goal. An impossible one. Clovis is untouchable."
"Think of it as a challenge." Nunnally leaned forward. "You give me the proof and, at minimum, I can make him sweat. It's more than anyone else has been able to do... Defeating the undefeatable. You can't tell me you aren't tempted?"
There was absolutely no way this was going to work. The traitor was going to sell them out. And once the prince's men discovered Kallen's heritage, she would be the one framed as corrupting innocent school children.
No one. Absolutely no one would believe a blind girl was behind this plot.
Defying expectations, Brian grinned and ground his cigarette in the ashtray. "You've got my attention. Now you only need to afford it. And no cashing in on your brother's favor. I highly doubt he'd approve."
Clearly, the only treasonous member of the Lamperouge family was Nunnally. Her brother was simply corrupt. Typical of a Britannian.
For the briefest moment Nunnally wavered, a glimpse of weakness in her confident facade. Despite everything, she was only a child. Yet, she shook it off, laughing, and leaned forward.
"Nobles love playing chess and I've heard you have some debts. Wager that a blind girl can defeat them at their own game. They won't let the insult stand. And when I win, your debts will be wiped clean, and embarrassment will keep them silent."
"You don't play in any of the local circuits. How do I know you'll win? It's quite a gamble on my part on an unproven player."
"I've played elsewhere. I doubt anyone here will be up to par with my normal opponent."
He frowned. "How good are we talking?"
"Very good," Euphie interrupted, her eyes wide. "She regularly plays against the best player of our extended family. She's one of the few people he lost to. And he plays chess regularly."
"Only twice," Nunnally grumbled. "And they don't count. He was distracted."
Euphie snorted. "That's half the game. He's a master of riling people up, so they make a mistake. You two draw more often than not which is better than most people can say. And you're not counting the blitz matches. You won most of those."
Nunnally shrunk in her seat.
"If you lose," Brian warned, "you'll be in my debt. And your friends as well." He paused and idly tapped his finger against the couch. "You sure you can win?"
"Yes," Nunnally said, back straightening.
"There's a competitor of mine... He has been expanding into my territory and has some... unsavory practices. He's fascinated by chess... and a damn good player." His hand stilled and he stood up. "He likes to collect decent players. Finds fresh talent by sponsoring local chess games and offering a tantalizing sum. Never actually has to pay because his best player always wins."
"You want me to compete."
"If you lose, I'll have a decent grasp of your skills and see if I should risk gambling on you. But if you're good as you claim, he'll invite you to a private game. Your blindness might be a problem, but he likes pretty things."
Kallen shuddered at the implications.
"He'll lose the first match. Then ask for a re-match and propose a wager. Probably offer some obscene amount of money. You don't need to win. Just keep him busy while my men do their business."
Heart hammering, Kallen reached forward and grasped Nunnally's wrist as she began to rise. Warnings sirens blared in her mind. This was beyond foolish. Even treason paled in comparison. There were so many ways this could go wrong.
But Nunnally stood, ignored their horrified hisses, and extended her hand. "We have a deal."
Zeroth Division Base, Area Six
Absently, Roy scanned through the stack of terrorism reports in his hands. The Second Brigade was seeing combat in the South as they tried to ease the rising tensions. Various floods had wiped out the major roads, stalling transportation of military personnel and essential goods. The Viceroy was up in arms about the decreased economic output and the people anxious due to declining jobs.
Even his family's business was being affected.
For now, the focus was ensuring that the E.U. didn't discover exactly how capricious the situation was. They would flood the region with weapons in another attempt to start an uprising. Britannia, as always, would shrug it off. Only the Numbers and the poorest commoners would suffer.
The most frustrating part was that Lelouch had everything under control until nature itself had decided to flip them the finger.
Swatting a mosquito, Roy grimaced and entered the staff room. Surrounded by empty coffee cups, Pablo sat hunched over the table and massaged the dark bags beneath his eyes. Across the room, Sergeant Major Gill glared at the sputtering coffee machine.
Without Lelouch here, Roy was suddenly the youngest person in the room. Pablo was the second youngest at twenty-eight, and only seven years older than him. Yet despite the cavernous age gap, they had to listen to him and Lelouch. And unlike his friend, Roy wasn't a genius. His only claim to authority was because he had the fortune to be in the same squad as Lelouch during Basic.
"Everything alright?" Roy asked, taking a seat.
Pablo reached out and drained another cup of coffee. "Funny story. We had supplies waiting for pick up in a warehouse. I even managed to get a great deal on rations. Unfortunately, two years ago, a noble bribed the dam inspector. Now, our supplies are making their way out to sea. Rain, truly the greatest enemy Britannia faces at the moment."
Roy sagged in his seat. "Any good news?"
"I sent a supply company to see if anything could be salvaged and help the civilians. With some luck, we can offset some of our losses, but the Quartermaster General is a stingy bastard, so we'll need to find supplies elsewhere. Fortunately, Lelouch has a wonderful list of easy to bribe nobles, but we'll need to dip into our emergency funds and ration food until I can get us a deal."
"Britannia, corruption is thy name," Roy mumbled. "The Viceroy is pissed as well. Any ideas would be welcome."
Sergeant Major Gill snorted. "He expects Zero to also fight floods?"
"Clearly," Roy grumbled.
The door swung open and Colonel Lopez walked in whistling. Noticing their dour expressions, he stopped abruptly. "Someone important died?"
"Only a dam," Pablo answered. "The Zeroth Division must fight excessive rainfall for its next herculean task."
"I'll add swimming to the men's training," Colonel Lopez said. "The Crow is going to be a few minutes late."
Sergeant Major Gill scowled. "He wouldn't know punctuality, if it bit him in the ass. Don't know why Lelouch still keeps him around. He'll betray us at the first opportunity."
"Lelouch trusts him." Colonel Lopez shrugged. "Damn if I know why."
"Because the kid is too forgiving when the crime is against himself," Pablo said. "And because he's the only one remotely qualified for his position in the entire division. We all learned on the job; he ran the Count's intelligence network without tipping off the OSI. I may not like him, but he is useful."
It had taken months before Lelouch let the truth slip regarding Art's true role as the Count's second. Not only had he kidnapped his friend, he had been responsible for countless losses on their side. And then...
"He tortured him," Roy growled.
The others flinched. Lelouch never used the word, always called it an ordeal if he couldn't avoid the subject. There were no permanent physical scars, but he hadn't escaped unscathed. His sudden hatred for tea was merely the tip of the iceberg.
"A vacation might do the kid some good," Pablo said. "He needs time to relax."
"Doubtful," Roy said. "He's dealing with family, and, unless it's his sister, he always returns high-strung. Henry is the only one worse off after visiting his family."
Both of them became ridiculously touch averse and their body language screamed in wrongness. It was subtle, but Lelouch would adopt a more formal posture. His gestures took on an extravagant edge. His accent shifted slightly, making him sound pretentious like during training, when every word out of his mouth pissed off the Drill Sergeant.
Normally, Lelouch's quirks only revealed themselves when he was under great stress.
As for Henry... Roy was at a loss. There was no tinge of nobility, but rather subservience. Sometimes, it felt like a stranger was wearing his skin, until Henry found his way back.
Colonel Lopez sighed. "Can't imagine what the Emperor was thinking. The kid might've defeated the Count, but he was tortured. Putting him in charge of a gutted division? It's like he set him up to fail."
Sergeant Major Gill nodded. "The Emperor did. We had no officers left. While the nobles were almost all incompetent, nobody really knew how to do their full job. Lelouch had to learn on the job. He made plenty of mistakes. Especially with logistics."
"Oh, please don't remind me," Pablo moaned. "We were all fools to think we'd actually get the supplies we wanted. The 712th is literally their lowest priority. We don't need good equipment; we're cannon fodder."
Roy frowned. "Alex said Zero belonged to the Emperor. And insinuated the consequences for failure, would've been dire."
Sergeant Major Gill glanced away.
"You know something," Roy accused.
"It's how Lelouch convinced me to stay," Sergeant Major Gill said. "Said the Emperor wasn't too keen on letting Empress Marianne's promise stand. Lelouch is too cynical to be patriotic, so the Emperor pointed a gun at all our heads. If Lelouch failed, we'd be dead."
"Why?" Pablo asked. "Why even bother giving him the opportunity to stack the deck against him?"
"It's always a test with royals," Roy said tiredly, remembering Empress Marianne's so-called game. "Lelouch isn't very... loyal. Having him fail a lesson of humility would've made Lelouch blame himself for our deaths. After which, the Emperor could knight him and sent him to the Imperial Academy to get the proper training and reap the rewards of Lelouch's genius."
"Except Lelouch beat him," Colonel Lopez said. "He convinced a Crow to help him. On the bright side, Lelouch made himself indispensable. He's Zero, and anyone would be hard pressed to fill his shoes."
Art sighed from the doorway, startling everyone. "Lelouch would have succeeded without me. The Emperor wanted to teach him the necessity of the proper Britannian way. Excessive force and whatnot." He pulled out a chair. "But it warms my heart that you find my expertise to be so crucial. I would've never known with your constant derision."
"Pardon me," Sergeant Major Gill said, "if I doubt that the Emperor put a kid, who had just been tortured, in charge and expected him to succeed."
"Empress Marianne suggested Lelouch would be sent elsewhere, so he can make himself of more use," Roy said bitterly. "She would see him as a conqueror."
Everyone around the table grimaced.
"The Emperor has unrealistic expectations," Art said. "A reasonable man wouldn't pursue relentless expansion. From his throne, we are all pawns for his amusement. Lelouch crossed his board and became Zero."
Roy narrowed his eyes at the Crow. "How do you even know this?"
Why had Lelouch kept it a secret from him?
"Lelouch told me," Art said, shrugging. "I wouldn't spread it around. If the men get word of this, their talk will cause trouble for Lelouch."
"Because we have a spy from the Emperor," Roy said.
In reviewing Empress Marianne's action, he discovered she had been too aware of how the division functioned. She had known where to find him. Where he liked to withdraw to find some peace and comfort.
At first, he suspected York, but the man had laughed into his face. It had been a long shot.
Lelouch kept him at a distance, and Empress Marianne had known his habits as well. She hadn't even bothered to ask where the tea was in Lelouch's office, instead ordering a private to fetch her a kettle. She navigated Lelouch's bizarre filing system with confidence. She even knew where Lelouch kept his fancy pepper.
Someone close to Lelouch was reporting back to her, and she was interested enough in him to study them thoroughly. It wasn't enough for the Emperor to blackmail him into submission, but also strip away his privacy. If Roy found the spy, they would be having a word on loyalty.
Art faced him, his face impassive.
"Who?" Roy demanded.
"Why would you ever draw that conclusion?" Art rolled his eyes. "As if the Emperor would care."
Roy inhaled slowly, slowly uncurling his fingers. Yelling at the Crow would accomplish nothing. "Empress Marianne knew where Lelouch stashed his reading material. She took his book with her."
At least it had been a proper English book; Roy had long mastered the art of pretending not to notice his friend's reading material—most of them were banned.
"The red one?" Pablo asked weakly, pouring himself another cup of coffee.
"Yes?"
"That'll be fun to explain to my grandfather. Yes, I asked for a copy of the history book you're writing and gave you hope that I would come to my senses. But alas, I lent it to my commanding officer for their birthday, and then Empress Marianne walked off the base with it." Pablo chuckled and finished his coffee. "It'll have the honor of being the first book of his banned before publication."
Art cursed softly. Leaning across the table, he snatched the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. "The Emperor wasn't going to let Lelouch operate without supervision. Lelouch knows who the spy is, but since there's nothing you can do about it, you'll drop the matter. It doesn't matter unless someone is stupid enough to plan a coup. If the Emperor hasn't acted upon all of Lelouch's slightly treasonous statements before, I doubt whatever was in the book will push him to care."
No wonder Lelouch was so paranoid. His actions were under constant review. Yet, he still didn't bother to keep his opinions to himself. Knowing Lelouch, it was his way of resisting. Roy wished his friend would take a safer path. One filled with less royals for one.
"We drop it, or we end up in unfortunate accidents" Sergeant Major Gill said and shook his head as Art nodded. "Damn it, Pablo. Stop giving Lelouch illicit books. I, for one, would like him to remain in command instead of some idiot noble ponce. No wonder you keep failing your background check when promotions come around."
Not that it would change Pablo's responsibilities. His experience in helping run the black market translated surprisingly well in running the division's logistics. He was doing the work of an officer, despite remaining a Staff Sergeant.
Roy frowned. "Why hasn't Lelouch promoted you?"
Pablo stood up and picked up the coffee pot and refilled each one of his numerous cups. "Lelouch has been trying for three years. Unfortunately, he has to defend all high ranking personnel. Jim has a good track record; I helped run the black market. Lelouch's solution was to give me the job anyway, although the extra pay would be nice."
"And the Brits would much rather have a proper Britannian than a Number." Roy sighed. "No wonder Lelouch lurks in the kitchen before any major promotions."
Sergeant Major Gill snorted. "Don't know who he is arguing with, but he spends the entire time pacing the room on his secure phone. Never raises his voice though."
"So my promotion is because of my blood and nepotism," Roy said bitterly. He had already known that, but it hurt to have it confirmed. "No wonder the men resent me."
"I'll be honest. Some of the men do. They think they can do your job better. In a fair world, they probably could." Sergeant Major Gill shrugged. "Louis knows more than I do. But he's foul mouthed and an Eight. I survived because I learned to play politics from watching the nobles. That skill was more important to Lelouch."
"Politics?" Roy asked. They were basically a separate branch of the military with how rarely they coordinated with others. There was no need for them to worry about political jostling. They did their job.
"None of us understand Britannian culture well enough. You understand what the various bows actually mean, which title to use when addressing a noble, and how to decipher their true intentions from honeyed words. It's almost instinctive for you and Lelouch. He tries to teach me, but the gap in knowledge is too big to span in any reasonable time. Lelouch foresaw that those skills would be needed. Empress Marianne, while definitely unexpected, proved him right. That is why he chose you instead of the other candidates he was considering."
"Gino is a noble," Roy protested.
Colonel Lopez chuckled. "Gino is all heart and brawn, but no brains. Getting him to take any responsibility is near impossible. He wouldn't last a day in your shoes. Dealing with the Butcher and the Vampire may make anyone reconsider their life, but we need your head in the game. They're gone. It's over. Time for work."
Roy sighed. They were right. "Pablo, did we get our birds for aerial surveillance?"
"Yes, sir. Our pilots still need training though before we send them out on a mission," Pablo said.
"Dense foliage isn't the best," Colonel Lopez said, "but I'm keeping them inland. I don't want our base to be accidentally compromised while they train. Until we get more birds, the few pilots from Area Eight and Nine will suffice."
At least one thing was going right. Knightmares were an essential part of armed combat nowadays, but air power was still invaluable. As long as the helicopters flew outside of the range of a slash-harken, they could receive vital updates on troop movements.
"Additionally," Roy continued, "Lelouch strongly suggested we spread a rumor that the Zeroth Division is in Venezuela. We can send a battalion to make some noise? The region is mostly stable, so I'm hesitant to commit troops when the situation is more tenuous down south."
Art groaned. "I'll take care of it. It will make a convenient trap for E.U. agents at the minimum, but remind Lelouch he's supposed to be on vacation, not manipulating public opinion or the economy or whatever he's scheming."
No. Lelouch was attending a funeral. Or busy cleaning up his family's books. Or something innocuous. Not abusing his position for insider training, gambling, or something worse.
"As long as it doesn't interfere with your other duties," Roy said. "Lastly, we need to send a battalion to the coast. Officially, we want to protect Britannia's ports. Unofficially, there are rumors that the Viceroy's family is in danger. It's in everyone's best interest that they stay out of harm."
"Watching a bunch of nobles frolicking in their fancy estates while their families are starving is going to be really bad for morale," Sergeant Major Gill warned. "It's too much standing around and doing nothing but thinking."
Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Roy considered the situation.
His men needed to feel like they were making a difference. Hunting nobles for their crimes indirectly protected their home and gave them hope for a better future. Justice was a tantalizing ideal, winning the hearts of men. Protecting the Viceroy's family, whose policies systematically plundered their home, brought forth dangerous ideas.
Ideas, admittedly, which took root in Roy's own mind.
Instead of insisting production quotas had to be met, the Viceroy should have eased restrictions and offered humanitarian aid. His actions would have demonstrated Britannia's power and generosity.
Greed turned men into short sighted fools.
Roy set down his coffee cup and leaned forward. "Send the entire First Brigade along with Gino and his landscapers. We'll claim to be taking pre-emptive strikes against a rumored coalition of insurgents. As the troops search the countryside for our insurgents, they'll be focusing on reestablishing essential infrastructure and providing humanitarian aid. For now, we'll be operating as the 712th. Menial tasks are perfect for us, after all."
"I assume you want me to spread a rumor that the Viceroy is ordering the aid?" Art guessed.
"Yes. As long as the citizens continue to admire him, organized rebellion will have a difficult time recruiting without being caught. As for guard duty, we rotate the companies."
"This is going to be expensive," Pablo grumbled, flipping through various papers. "Lelouch will have an aneurism when he sees our budget."
Roy winced. As their division was primarily composed of Numbers, their allotted budget per soldier was cut in half. Additionally, the various games from their suppliers, who thought it was amusing to dupe some Numbers and commoners, strained their meager cash reserves even further.
Pablo frequently requisitioned Gino to cut through their bullshit.
Despite his mannerisms, Gino was still the son of an influential noble. The fourth son of Margrave Weinberg, the Minister of Commerce, was a potent weapon. Unfortunately, he was a weapon of last resort. Having Margrave Weinberg turn his gaze towards the division would cause trouble.
"Any noble we can target to liquidate their assets?" Roy asked desperately. He didn't have the devil's luck necessary to pursue Lelouch's usual solution to budget deficits: gambling.
"Surprisingly, no," Art said. "Lelouch might've been a little too efficient in the past few years. The ones left are smart enough to not leave proof lying around."
"Like Margrave Oberstein," Sergeant Major Gill said. "I have no idea how someone shady can be so squeaky clean. That's suspicious of itself."
Roy drained his coffee. "I'm an idiot. Should've asked Empress Marianne for a bigger budget instead of block leave."
"How did that even happen?" Sergeant Major Gill asked.
"Right after testing my loyalty and threatening me with knighthood, she offered me a boon," Roy said.
"Putting aside the fact you impressed the Butcher enough for her to offer you a promotion," Pablo said, "which really should put to rest your concerns about competency... Have you informed Lelouch?"
"Yes," Roy said, feeling self-conscious. "He didn't say anything."
"That doesn't sound like him," Pablo said, brow furrowed. "If he knew Empress Marianne was here, he would've freaked and bombarded everyone with questions. I could try sending a message through Nunnally for you. Her letters might not be censored."
"Why are you even in contact with her?" Roy asked.
"Remember Lelouch's little mail scheme? My grandfather was thrilled to keep in contact, but it felt rude to pass the messages through her without acknowledging her. One thing led to another. She occasionally asks me how Lelouch is actually doing, but she still keeps in contact with my grandfather, and they discuss history." Pablo frowned, his finger tapping on the table. "May I be dismissed, sir? There is something I need to check."
Roy narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded. "Go beg the Quartermaster General for funds and supplies. We technically hadn't taken custody of the supplies yet, so the flood is on their head. Get Gino to throw around his family's name if need be. We're going ahead with humanitarian aid. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"You are dismissed," Roy said.
The rest of the meeting proceeded easily as they reviewed the latest reports from the brigades and disciplinary actions forwarded up the chain of command. Roy massaged his temples as Sergeant Major Gill left to gently break the news that they would be functioning on limited rations for the upcoming weeks. Colonel Lopez followed after attaining his approval for a new training regiment for the newest recruits.
Only Art lingered. "If you keep digging, you may be joining me on the executioner's block. Tread carefully."
Roy snarled. "And you know everything, don't you?"
"I'm a dead man walking," Art said calmly. "I accepted this position under the condition that Lelouch wouldn't lie to me."
"I'm his friend," Roy protested. He was the one Lelouch should trust, not the man who delivered him to the Count without remorse.
"Which means he tries to protect you. Certain truths cannot be unlearned." Art closed his eyes as he glared. "He keeps secrets from you not because of a lack of trust, but because he values your right to choose. He's completely beneath other's thumbs..."
Like the Emperor who had taken the division hostage to ensure Lelouch's compliance. Or his father, who Lelouch feared for what he might do to his sister.
At least the Emperor did it for Britannia. Without incentive, Lelouch couldn't be trusted. He lacked the necessary patriotism. When running through battle scenarios with Roy, he spent more time playing the enemy and poking holes into their defenses.
Should he turn, he would be a fearsome enemy for Britannia.
But Lelouch's father? Roy despised him.
He was clearly a noble and had abused his position to pursue Lelouch's mother. Commoners, even when knighted, couldn't tell an important noble no without fearing serious repercussions. Roy's grandmother had always impressed upon him the necessity of maintaining distance between himself and any noble. They wielded power Roy would never be able to match and used it to force others into submission.
It was safer to fly beneath their radar. Any interaction had to be weighed carefully. His family had the resources to make inquiries regarding their character. They also had an entire box of excuses to escape any marriage proposals.
None of which would help Roy should Empress Marianne decide to knight him. He really needed to discuss this development with his family. Perhaps, they would even have recommendations on how to help his friend escape his father's control.
Art smiled sadly. "The truth would put you in a similar position. If you value your freedom, I'd stick your head in the sand and embrace the lie."
"No," Roy said. "I can't help him if I don't know anything. At least, I will be able to protect Lelouch from his father."
His eyes wide, Art paled.
"You know," Roy accused. "If you're going to deal with assassins and spies, then the least you could do was bring him down."
Art sank into his seat, cradling his head. "Please, never say anything like that again. Not even around Lelouch."
"The only thing you care about is your skin." Roy laughed. "There's not a drop of compassion in you. What's Lelouch suffering compared to what you put him through?"
"Oh, let me be clear," Art said coldly, "there's no one I despise more than Lelouch's father. Unfortunately, he is far beyond my reach. He's far beyond yours as well, Fadiman. Our efforts would be as inconsequential as mere gnats. We'd be killed like them too. If we draw his ire, not even Lelouch would be able to save our lives. You think Lelouch is vindictive? His father makes him look like a cute kitten. So never suggest moving against him again."
Roy swallowed. He had known Lelouch's father was powerful. But this... It was far beyond what he had imagined. There were scant few nobles who claimed that sort of far reaching power. An Earl at minimum. More likely a Margrave.
Lord Oberstein certainly fit the bill...
As did Lord Ashford, but Lelouch regarded him warmly.
The list of potential candidates had certainly shrunk from hundreds to a mere handful.
And Lelouch was struggling under his father's control. No wonder he seemed so resigned at times. Between the Emperor and his father, he had no freedom. Unless, he could play them off each other, but that was an incredibly risky proposition.
"Well, a Crow is just a coward," Roy said. "Thank you for the warning, but I won't turn my back on him. I'm not a traitor after all."
Art sighed, staring despondently at the empty pot of coffee. "Shit."
Roy rolled his eyes. "We're done here, unless you have any other sage advice."
"York is going to suggest Alex takes some time off. Don't approve it."
"Noted," Roy said coldly, exiting the room. Art had no right to interfere with his friends.
Before the door shut, he heard Art tiredly say, "I tried. Damn it, Lelouch. I tried."
Shinjuku Ghetto, Tokyo, Area Eleven
When Suzaku entered the kitchen, two teacups rested on the table, and he resigned himself to another discussion. Perhaps Tohdoh had discovered the slightly illegal leanings of his weekend employer, who hosted the local heads of each, so-called, "Neighborhood Defense Force." While none of them dared to risk his employer's ire by forcibly recruiting Suzaku, their attention occasionally drifted to his older students.
Suzaku would never let them be involved in something against their will. As their teacher, it was his duty to protect them.
If Tohdoh had discovered the fights, he would undoubtedly be displeased. It risked Suzaku's anonymity if someone involved the Knight Police. Still, it was worth it.
And wasn't Tohdoh constantly insisting he needed to make his own decisions. That his path in life was one he had to choose out of his own free will?
Or maybe, this was about Lelouch…
Suzaku took a seat, hoping it was the former. They almost never discussed Lelouch and Nunnally.
"Lieutenant Colonel Kusakabe defected." Tohdoh studied the electric kettle, his shoulders sagging. "With him, he took a significant portion of our men."
"Why?" How could anyone just turn their back on the JLF. They did so much to help. The supplies and training they offered were absolutely essential in helping Japan recover.
"He's a short sighted fool," Tohdoh growled, slamming his fist on the counter. Breathing heavily, he straightened. "He's tired of biding our time and wasting precious resources on humanitarian efforts. He would have us abandon our duty to the people to strike against Britannia and completely disregard the long-term consequences. He has no concept of diplomacy or subtlety. Does he truly think that Britannia will just roll over?"
Given what Suzaku remembered of the prideful man, he probably did.
The electric kettle rattled, and Tohdoh picked it up. "The only positive is that he took the like-minded men with him. The JLF is publically disavowing him. He will have a hard time finding support, but his rhetoric for action will siphon essential resources from our cause. And we were so close to making our move... Now, we have to do damage control and replace the equipment he stole."
Suzaku accepted the steaming cup and blew on it gently. This wasn't a normal conversation. "What will the JLF do?"
"Nothing."
Nothing? Suzaku frowned. Was this one of those strategic moves that Tohdoh kept trying to make him understand?
"Kusakabe is the symptom of a much larger problem. The ideological battle for Japan's future. He represents the past; and the JLF, the future. We spent days deliberating whether we should spend resources to hunt him down, potentially ousting ourselves to the Britannian intelligence, and then inevitably dealing with someone else who ascribes to the same ideology. Someone we don't know and can't predict. Or..."
Tohdoh sighed, highlighting the weary lines marring his face. "Or we let him be and commence an ideological battle. He'll deliver the first blow, and we're going to stand by and watch. Let the consequences of his actions play out.
"Best case scenario, the Brits apply pressure to the ghettos and revoke privileges. It will be a contest as to whom the Japanese turn on first. The JLF who have aided them for years. Or Kusakabe with bright promises of a free Japan."
Before, their discussions had always been in an abstract sense. Suzaku would listen over a game of shogi, nursing a cup of tea, as Tohdoh broke down historical battles and the tactics used by both sides. Chiba would always roll her eyes as she observed their ritual and pull him aside to teach him old traditions and history.
To move into concrete terms... Something had changed. Maybe, Tohdoh was finally acknowledging him as old enough to help.
For a moment, he was tempted to change the conversation. Direct it back to the Napoleonic Wars or discuss the effectiveness of self-defense moves for an absolute beginner. They were safer topics. Ones that didn't remind him of his father and the weight of the Kururugi name. Would helping his people require him to pick up the name again?
Tohdoh had promised to wait until he was ready.
And he was ready. Ready to fight and help... Not to pick up the burden of his family name.
Inhaling, Suzaku calmed himself. This was a test. First, he had to pass. Everything else could wait until after.
"Britannia might attempt a purge. Empress Marianne is perfectly capable of it." For once, his voice didn't crack.
Tohdoh nodded. "Then it becomes a battle for our survival. At the end, we will know if it is the old or new Japan that can survive. Or our beliefs will prove too weak, and we'll forever be condemned as mere Numbers."
"What is the new Japan?" Suzaku asked. Tohdoh spoke of it often, but never elaborated on what it meant beyond Japan being its people. "If Kusakabe can free Japan..."
"Let's say we somehow manage to repel the Britannian military, logistics aren't a crippling problem that'll have us all starving to death in a few months, and the question about what happens to the Brits, Honorary Britannians, and mixed couples living here are all magically solved."
In the middle of the table, Tohdoh set down a plate, and after a moment of consideration, a tiny bonsai tree. "This is Japan. Basically a barren rock if we're talking natural resources except for sakuradite—a double edged sword."
Pulling out his wallet, he dropped a few yen on the plate and, to the side, dumped all his pounds. Frowning, he emptied the rest of his wallet on the table. Each denomination represented its respective country.
After a moment of deliberation, Tohdoh removed two bills from Japan's meager pile. They were at an incredible disadvantage, their pile dwarfed not only by Britannia, but also the E.U. and China. Suzaku forced himself not to react as Tohdoh stood and began adding random condiments to the Britannian side, increasing their power.
"Kusukabe's plan stops here. He thinks we evict the Britannians, and that'll be the end. Maybe he will be elected Prime Minister for being a war hero or something. Unfortunately, that puts us right where we were before the invasion. But with less resources, lacking a defensive alliance with the Chinese and French, and non-existent infrastructure because Britannia will burn it to the ground as they retreat. What we still have is an extremely valuable vein of sakuradite that everyone wants to control."
Suzaku swallowed. He didn't even know how to tackle this. In the ghettos, people whispered in awe over the rumors that the JLF had knightmares and needed pilots. Without them, Britannia wouldn't have won. Glancing at the massive pile representing Britannia, he wondered if that was actually true.
Fielding their own knightmares would prevent a one sided slaughter but didn't guarantee a victory. United East Africa had fielded its own knightmares; they had been annihilated. The Empire hadn't even bothered to send their best pieces. Not a single Knight of the Round had been deployed outside of Britannia in the last three years.
Tohdoh gestured to the pile of copper coins, scowling. "If they haven't already, the Chinese will attack first. Given India, I doubt they'll be kind masters. Britannia will most likely let us diminish each other's forces, then swoop in like a vulture to claim the spoils. In the unlikely event China is waylaid, the E.U. becomes the next immediate threat. After our defeat in the First Pacific War, the E.U. determined that Japan wasn't worth the effort of holding onto, but still abolished our dynasty and built a military base on Okinawa to defend against the Britannian threat. Our government won't be recognized as legitimate, and the E.U. will once again invade to restore democracy.
"Britannia will fight to prevent the E.U. from gaining control over our sakuradite and probably draw the entire world in a three way war between the superpowers. The ones who'll suffer the most are the Japanese. Britannia might lose, but she's a vindictive mistress, who would rather destroy Mt. Fuji then let their enemies control it. Unless we can negotiate from a position of strength, Japan and its people will be destroyed."
Sakuradite. Everything revolved around the damn sakuradite.
Suzaku grabbed the innocent bonsai tree, representing their greatest weakness. "What if we destroy it first?"
"A plan of last resort." Tohdoh smiled proudly. "We have scientists determining the geological impact, or if it's possible to only detonate a part and fool the world into thinking otherwise. Unfortunately, it doesn't help us with defeating Britannia."
"But without sakuradite, Britannia wouldn't care," Suzaku argued. "They'd be wasting resources to gain nothing."
"Stability," Tohdoh answered. "If one Area manages to declare independence, what will stop the rest from raising the banners of rebellion? And here is where the two paths to victory present itself. Either the destruction of Britannia. Or its reformation."
To go from fighting for independence... to this? Britannia had everything. They were an unconquerable foe. Their Empire spanned half the world. They nursed grudges for over a century.
Helplessly, Suzaku gestured at the assorted pile of fruits, condiments, and pounds that represented Britannia's might.
Tohdoh shook his head and began splitting it into smaller chunks. One portion moved to the Chinese Federation. Another to the E.U. Even then, Britannia's forces outnumbered them. Maybe they could win, but how many would die? Tapping his finger on the counter, Tohdoh scanned the room before abruptly standing and leaving the room.
Returning with Ko's ant farm—his foster family refused to have it anywhere near them—Tohdoh set it down in the midst of Britannia's forces.
"We can't defeat Britannia on our own. But while I might despise the Count's duplicitousness, she revealed a major weakness. Britannia is crawling with restless portions. The commoners may love their royalty, but they despise the nobility who keeps them in poverty. It's why the Emperor has been gradually decreasing the power of the nobility in the past few years. He's well aware of the powder keg he is sitting on."
The ants, oblivious to their role on the table, worked peacefully. Suzaku was rather jealous. They only had to trust their queen and listen to her orders. They didn't have to make difficult decisions or despair at the cost of freedom. Ignorance was bliss.
Tohdoh pushed the various knick-knacks to the side and leaned over to the rice cooker. He returned, setting the pepper and salt shaker down. "Which one should be Kaguya?"
"Really?" Suzaku asked. He knew he often needed things spelled out. But this... was going a bit far. At the expectant look, he sighed. "Salt."
Shrugging, Tohdoh set the salt shaker down in the center of the table. "It's because of Kaguya we know so much we can plan ahead. She has access to most of the nobility, the royal family, and the Chinese Federation through Empress Tianzi. She's our most valuable agent, and the only one able to present our interests at court. Without her, our chance of success would be much lower. Her efforts have also helped improve the lives of the Japanese."
Mouth dry, Suzaku guessed, "You think Lelouch can help."
"Hopefully." Tohdoh pulled out the chess magazine and pushed it forward, open to Lelouch staring intently at the camera with his deceptively polite smile. "You're not the only trying to keep track of our elusive ghost. He's been trading favors in court. Kaguya usually bankrolls random Britannians' projects at his request and, a few months later, some reforms pass. Or a hospital, orphanage, or school pop up. The Emperor having him join the negotiations in Australia is hardly surprising. He's been doing it for years."
"Is he a threat?" Suzaku clenched his fists, cursing himself for letting the question slip. Fighting Lelouch... He really didn't want to.
But he had a duty to Japan. Lelouch was a prince. A representation of Britannia. They were natural enemies.
And once, best friends.
"At eleven, he managed to steal enough sakuradite cells to arm multiple traps which could disable a knightmare. He built all of them under our noses without alerting any of us. And then he lied to his mother to ensure your safety. Of course, he is a threat." Tohdoh sighed. "An enemy is a different matter. Truthfully, I'm relieved the Emperor made him a diplomat. He'll be deadly at it... but I can only think how much worse it would be, if he was trained in the art of war."
Suzaku nodded. Fighting him in the negotiation room was something he could do. He would lose; Lelouch always had a way of words. But facing him as an enemy commander? Lelouch would be trying to kill him. And Suzaku doubted he had the will to defend himself.
"You miss him." Tohdoh remarked softly. "I want your eyes wide open when you make decisions. But... I also want to protect you from pain. And this? It's going to be very painful."
"He was my first friend," Suzaku whispered, flipping the page to the more candid shot. "If I can't fight him..."
"Then you don't. Just promise me that you'll defend yourself, no matter what. I can't bear the thought of losing you because you were swept up in childhood nostalgia." Tohdoh raised the pepper shaker and turned it slowly. "Court is all about deception. We don't know how he has changed. If he's fully bought into the Britannian mindset or is honestly working to improve the lives of Numbers and commoners. If it's the latter, we have a chance to negotiate with him, and potentially embark on the path of reformation. While he's far from the throne, he must know which of his elder siblings would be a more amenable Emperor."
Reforming Britannia was tempting.
He still yearned for the old peaceful days, but the war had left permanent scars. Returning was impossible. Japan was overrun with Brits. They had built homes and set up businesses. Some of the Japanese had embraced the Honorary program and married a poor Brit to ensure their child would have full citizenship.
Their people had picked up Britannian habits.
And forgotten many of their own.
While the nobles were clearly Britannians and the Elevens, Japanese; between the two existed a sea of confusing connections that blurred the line. Commoners also suffered under Britannia's rule. Was it fair to abandon them to a bloody civil war, if there was another option? They were indoctrinated from birth, unable to see the injustices they suffered.
Ignorance couldn't be punished.
Suzaku brushed a finger over Lelouch's contemplative face. The JLF would use Lelouch. His mother held the hearts of the commoners. They saw her as proof their unfortunate position in life could improve. It was fascinating hearing their reverence as they spoke of her. Her inhumane slaughters only made her more respected.
For obvious reasons, the Japanese would never rally behind her. Her occupation of Tokyo was still fresh in their minds. Lelouch though had none of the baggage and benefited from her popularity. People were waiting to see what Empress Marianne's son would do. He only needed to ensure a meager victory for Britannia, and they would watch him in earnest. A commoner-born prince they called him.
Using Lelouch left a bad taste in his mouth. People weren't chess pieces, easily cast aside. Yet, his old friend probably expected it. For Britannia, everyone was a tool.
"Are you finally going to let me fight?" Suzaku asked. With Kusakabe loose, the JLF would need to increase recruitment. "Do you— My family's name. Are you telling me this, because you need me to wear it again?"
"You're not eighteen, yet. As for the Kururugi name, no," Tohdoh assured. "Command is currently unaware that you are alive and healthy. The few people who know I've sworn to secrecy. The JLF has made plans about what to do should you surface and, if you decide you are ready, I will explain them so you can choose which option suits you best. We will then approach the JLf together, from a position of strength, to negotiate a position favorable to yourself. Don't let your name slip before then. It would remove your only advantage, and everyone wishes to use you."
"I'm just..." Suzaku gestured aimlessly at himself. He was only a decent martial artist. The finer points of strategy escaped him, much to Tohdoh's continuous despair. His academics were merely passing, and he possessed none of Lelouch's genius. His people skills also left much to be desired. He was just... average. "Me."
Tohdoh frowned sternly. "Stop putting yourself down. If you resign yourself to mediocrity, you will have lost the battle before it is done. Your students absolutely adore you. Chiba told me that they seek you out and leave tokens of their appreciation at our door. When they get in trouble, you are one of the first people they turn to. Even the Brit kids trust you. When Refrain flooded our streets, you idiotically hunted down the local supplier, because you are a good person."
Uncomfortable at being praised, Suzaku hunched his shoulders and focused on the imperfections of the plastic table. He thought Tohdoh hadn't known about that.
"Unfortunately, what people want is the son of the Prime Minister. With your father dead and our government dismantled, many consider you to be the rightful ruler in exile."
Suzaku gaped. That wasn't how it worked. They had been a democracy. How could people be so stupid? He was simply a reminder of what Japan once was and a failure of a son.
"Did you know you're apparently hiding in the E.U., studying under their greatest generals? And a close friend with Empress Tianzi? Even the Middle Easter Federation joined the game. Of course, no one ever meets you, because you're hiding out of fears of assassins." Tohdoh couldn't be serious. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Ironically, Britannia is the only who hasn't bothered to play the game of the missing heir."
Groaning, Suzaku rested his head against the cool table. When he thought politics couldn't get more ludicrous, they did. "They should have Lelouch pretend to be me."
Tohdoh chuckled fondly. "Your little masquerade might actually explain why there seems to be some confusion whether your hair is black or brown. You played the poor dignitaries like fools."
"We didn't actually think it would work," Suzaku grumbled. "It was a stupid bet because Lelouch called me an ill mannered-buffoon. I swear Nunnally goaded us into it. We thought we could pull it off at most for an hour before someone called us out. We only switched clothes and put on a theater mask. Father should have been mad at everyone who failed to notice, not us."
"The sheer audacity of pulling it off for three days..." Tohdoh shook his head and refilled the kettle. "There was a running joke among the staff that the Emperor sent Lelouch to kill the Prime Minister by a fit of apocalyptic rage. You two certainly shaved off a few years with your mischief."
"If Lelouch had wanted to kill us, we wouldn't have stood a chance," Suzaku said. Lelouch had gotten into everywhere. From his bedroom to the weapon storeroom.
"Well, that was before we learned that Lelouch treated locks like minor nuisances. Then we joked the Emperor's doctor sent Lelouch away to save His Majesty's blood pressure." Tohdoh paused, staring intently. "You rarely bring him up. Until I found your collection of magazines, I honestly thought you were trying to forget him."
Suzaku leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I shouldn't want to know how he is doing. If he still remembers me. It's just... I remember how we laughed and Lelouch would drag me into his next scheme. We thought we could accomplish anything together. Yet, he doesn't really need me. I'll always be a mere Eleven, unworthy of even kissing his boots. You're right. It would be easier to let go, but every time I see Empress Marianne in the news, I'm reminded of how he lied to her."
They could never return to a happier time. There would always be a chasm between them. Their duty pulling them seperate ways, on a path neither could follow.
For once, Suzaku wanted to be selfish. Reclaim that friendship. Despite his efforts, all his newfound friendships paled in comparison. Unlike Lelouch, they didn't know him. Would never accept him, if they knew his greatest sin.
"I never told him goodbye," Suzaku finally settled on. His throat tightened and desperate to end the questioning, he repositioned the plate, representing Japan, in the center of the table. "What will happen to the ghettos after Kusakabe attacks?"
Tohdoh narrowed his eyes. The rattling from the kettle cut off any potential protests. Sighing, he returned with a fresh cup of steaming tea. "The Area will move up the threat index which will give Clovis more leeway in deploying the Imperial Army. The Emperor will also reinforce the garrisons here, and we can expect a surge of recruitment efforts among the ghettos. Mostly, it will depend on how Clovis reacts. He's a novice at military affairs so will probably resort to soft tactics such as traffic restrictions and impassioned speeches."
Despite the serious topic, Suzaku snorted. Even the Brits scoffed at Clovis's excessive tendency towards melodrama. The corners of Tohdoh's eyes crinkled, betraying his own amusement, before he suddenly scowled.
"That's not too bad, right?" Suzaku asked.
"No." Tohdoh, his eyebrows drawn together, sipped his tea. "It's annoying and will probably cripple many local business and fan resentment. It's just we forgot about the Purists. It'll be the perfect opportunity for them to steal power from Clovis."
"They'd be worse?"
"Not significantly. They want to abolish the Honorary Britannian system, which in the long run, isn't a bad thing for us." He waved his hand. "Kusukabe had more money than expected. We never figured out— Damn it." He stood up, ignoring his questions. As he grabbed his coat, he said, "Tell Nagisa I love her and I'm sorry I couldn't stay for dinner."
"Wait!" Suzaku shouted, lunging before the door. "Please, tell me. If something is wrong, I deserve to know."
"You're only a child."
"One with a bounty on his head," Suzaku countered.
Tohdoh pursed his lips, but stepped away from the door. "I'm sorry." He sighed and hung up his jacket again. "I wanted to give you a childhood, but this world doesn't have much patience for innocence."
Suzaku silently followed him back to the table. His tea had long cooled.
"The Purists," Tohdoh began, "stand to benefit from Kusukabe's reckless action. Clovis will prove himself incompetent. There's a chance... the Purists are planning a coup. If Kusakabe was paid by a Brit, and Britannia intelligence uncovers that, Area Eleven will shoot up the threat index, putting it slightly below Area Two under the Count's rampage, and around where Area Six hovers now. A minor purge of a single ghetto will be the least of our concerns then."
Shuddering, Suzaku wrapped his arms around himself. Area Two had been a blood bath. First, Empress Marianne had carved a bloody path through the country. They celebrated her for it, yet she had killed anyone in her way. Strict curfews had forced the area into lockdown and food shortages weakened the populations. Near the end, neighbor turned on neighbor out of rampant paranoia, and the Britannian military had begun to fire indiscriminately on civilians.
As for Area Six, it was crawling with soldiers. There, the fight wasn't against rebels, but organized crime, bolstered by the E.U. and Chinese. The only news from the Area was the almost regular arrests of corrupt nobles. The JLF exploited nobles in Area Eleven to fund their projects and to stay under the radar. While it wouldn't be as blood as Area Two, a similar treatment as to Area Six would inevitably expose the JLF.
"Who will the Emperor send?" Suzaku asked because everything depended on whether the incoming commander was a raging racist who would destroy the ghettos, a frothing nationalist who would eradicate any signs of Japanese culture, or an ardent patriot who would tear through the nobility for their treason, thus exposing the JLF.
"Potentially General Cornelia," Tohdoh said. "Rumor has it that United East Africa will be surrendering in the coming month. Their terms won't be favorable, but they're hoping to buy time for its allies so that the E.U. will finally get off their asses and become directly involved. She's close to Clovis and would probably jump at the opportunity. Sending a popular royal is a good political move and prevents conflicting loyalties. She's used to fighting standing armies though and her hatred for social pleasantries alienates her from many nobles.
"Then there is Major General Vandergeld. He fought in the Emblem of Blood, earning his way through the ranks, and the Emperor elevated him to a Margrave for his service. He's been busy stabilizing the Areas in Cornelia's wake and has years of experience. Unlike Cornelia, he is a fan of lavish parties and an excellent politician."
Tohdoh paused, looking off into the distant.
"Then there's Zero," Suzaku whispered, addressing the elephant in the room.
His exploits were constantly praised in the news. He was the rising star of Britannia. The man who defeated the Count where all else had failed. To face Zero, meant defeat .
"Then there's Zero," Tohdoh repeated, sighing. "Hopefully, he'll be kept busy with Area Six for a while. So far, he hasn't crossed the ocean to deal with the island territories. Unfortunately, we don't know enough about him. He has E.U. intelligence frothing with his proclivity to capture their agents. Unlike Cornelia or Vandergeld, his tactics don't rely on overwhelming force or knightmares. He also minimizes civilians casualties for Brits and Numbers."
"That's good, right?" Suzaku asked, because Tohdoh didn't look pleased at the last bit.
"Yes... But it renders a lot of our own tactics useless. He clearly learned from the Count's tendency to publicize everything. We can't sow dissension among the Brits, if he does nothing wrong. And given his track record, nobody will accuse him of being weak. The Emperor sends him into the most volatile situations and to hunt down powerful nobles abusing their power. He's the scalpel. When he leaves, the region is often better off than it began."
Tohdoh massaged his temples. "We can predict Cornelia and Vandergeld. We don't even know how old Zero is. The Emperor keeps everything about Zero incredibly quiet. While we may know he's in an Area, we won't know where specifically until the news reports it or months after the fact. The few meager scraps of information we receive are at times contradictory. If it weren't for first hand accounts from Halifax, I'd say Zero is merely propaganda."
"The most dangerous enemy is the one you don't know," Suzaku realized.
"Which is why, if Zero comes here, the E.U. has agreed to help us assassinate him."
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- Sometimes, writing leads to the strangest (and disturbing) rabbit holes. I wanted to determine how Mr. Cameron's death would be perceived, which led to this rather disturbing historical tidbit about the UK: Until 1961, suicide was criminalized in the UK and family members could be prosecuted as well. The family forfeiture of the deceased's property was technically legal until 1870. Until 1823, a jury could deny the deceased the right to be buried in a graveyard, even then, religious rites weren't allowed to be observed until 1882. Britannia never repealed/amended most of these laws unlike the UK.
- Okinawa is the largest island of the Ryukyu archipelago and south of Japan. It's location has earned it the nickname as the "Keystone of the Pacific" and makes it a tantalizing military target. Nowadays, it's part of Japan and hosts controversial military bases which belong to the U.S.
- Because I'm fixating on this, bowing again: In the anime, when Suzaku first meets Euphie and goes on his "date," he uses a logical bow, with his right arm crossed over his chest. But when she's revealed as a princess, he does the weird right hand behind the back thing. Does this mean that it's culturally acceptable to assassinate a noble/royal? Why is it not consistent?
Author's Note:
I hope the "Suzaku learns geopolitics" portion was alright. Technically, it's a glorified info-dump which makes me nervous. And, despite its length, it only skims the surface. So hopefully it wasn't too boring, confusing, or patronizing.
Don't worry, Lelouch will return next chapter.
Apparently "after Christmas" means just several hours later than usual because I was busy. Surprise! Merry Christmas, slightly belated, to all of you. You get an unusually long chapter as a gift.
I will be returning to every other week scheduled updates. Maybe I'll finish some one-shots in-between, before I need an exorcist to deal with all my plot bunnies.
See you in the new year. Gift me a review on your way out? :)
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj
Thank you x1tears1X and Spaded Ace18 on FFN for your help with betaing. Additional thanks to Curious Beats for reviewing my military stuff.