Recap: Suzaku is volunteering in the Outer Concessions as a martial arts instructor while Tohdoh does JLF stuff. Kallen is in New York, accompanying her father on a business trip. Lelouch met with Roy, and together they're planning a wedding.

Chapter 13: When Worlds Meet

August 8, 1995

I held my son for the first time today. He was just under eight pounds and a wrinkly, red thing. Not that I dared to tell Maddy that, especially with her parents in the room. It's funny. Roy has been in this world for scarcely an hour, and they are already dictating the course of his life. It worries me.

I remember when I was about eight there was another boy who would join us on the field during harvest. We rarely saw him otherwise. His parents got it into their head that he was a musical prodigy and had him practicing every hour of the day. He was good, although time may have warped my perception. The trouble was that he despised music. So one day, he snuck out of the house to play with us. When his mother came to fetch him, he looked at her ever so deliberately, and picked up a stone. Most of all, I remember his expression of glee the moment before he crushed his fingers.

So I must ask what should happen if Roy disagrees with this plan we set before him. The children he will play with are already decided. At this very moment, Nicholas is probably sitting at his desk, writing in his journal, and plotting how to introduce his grandson to the company. At least Maddy agrees with me that fourteen is too young to join the army.

At least I had the choice to accept this responsibility. Admittedly, I would have been a fool to turn down Nicholas's offer of a job with my lame leg. Then years later, when I thought he had forgotten about me, he called me to his office and asked if I wanted to be the Fadiman heir. I owed him, so I said yes. Even if it meant that I had to marry Maddy despite having never set eyes on her before.

Roy will never have that choice. I can't allow him the freedom of my youth, not when I committed to always putting the company first. I hope that he will be a child who thrives under the pressure and fulfills, no exceeds expectations. If he's incapable, then someone else will claim his place, and he may find happiness elsewhere. But I hope that I never push my son too far, so that instead of being honed by the pressure, he buckles. Children aren't products nor subordinates, and I must remember that.

—From the Journals of Hector Fadiman, CEO of Fadiman & Jenkins

Outer Concessions, Tokyo, Area Eleven

"You have to see it, Chiba-sensei!" Mase whined, hopping from leg to leg. Around them, Suzaku's various students watched in anticipation. "Come on, Ko. Convince your brother?"

Suzaku winced as another pair of puppy eyes focused on him. Six year olds shouldn't have such potent weapons. "Fine. Two minutes. I'm not getting paid to play video games."

One of the older boys laughed. "You're not getting paid at all, Chiba-sensei. And I promise, it will cheer you up."

Despite being given time off, Suzaku hadn't been able to enjoy his vacation. Every time he walked through the streets, Tohdoh's words echoed through his mind. Somewhere out there was a commander with a bullseye on his back. And Tohdoh? He had the gun loaded, an assassin on standby. The subterfuge bothered him more than he cared to admit. Compared to the other commanders, they had no data to suggest Zero would order a slaughter. But he was the one marked for death. Being decent for a Brit condemned him.

If Lelouch became a threat, would Suzaku stand by and do nothing as well? His success in Australia had unnerved Tohdoh.

"Please, nii-san?" Ko begged.

"Fine," Suzaku said, grabbing his hand. "Let's see what the fuss is about."

Chino led them down the stairs and opened the door. "Isn't it a beauty?" She smiled. "Come on. You can't tell me you're not tempted?"

The knightmare simulator sat in the middle of the room, Purists logos proudly slapped across it. Already, someone had graffitied the side with some unkind Japanese words. His students crowded forward, inspecting it in amazement. They grinned in excitement, too disconnected from the harsh reality of what a knightmare meant: a field of corpses.

"Boss got annoyed by everyone running off to join the Britannian army or the JLF to try out one of these bad boys. So now we have our own," Chino said. "And I'm kicking Usui's ass."

Suzaku dropped Ko's hand and took a tentative step forward, his hand running along the chassis. A simulator wasn't a knightmare; it was the closest he would get to the real thing. Piloting a knightmare meant power. Even the JLF, despite enforcing a minimum age of enlistment, made an exception for talented pilots. Aces were valuable.

"I shouldn't," Suzaku said. "I'm not running off to join the JLF anytime soon."

"Terrorism not your thing?" Chino asked. "I heard that Britannia even allows Numbers to pilot one if they're good enough. Think about it. Sitting up high in the cockpit looking down on everyone like some Britannian lord. That's power. No one can hurt you."

No civilian at least. Mortars, artillery, and other knightmares could still kill you. But he understood. The knightmare was the weapon that had stolen Japan from them. To claim it for their defense meant everything.

"Britannia doesn't," Ban, the owner, interrupted. "You join the Britannian military, and you'll be dead before you can leave without ever touching one of these."

"Maybe it changed since you left," Chino said.

"It definitely didn't."

Suzaku stepped back. "He's right. Britannia would never allow it. They only want to keep good pilots out of their enemy's hands."

"In another unit then," she argued.

Ban rubbed his face and surveyed the group of children who stared at him expectedly. "Follow your sensei. He has a good head on his shoulders. Chiba? I was going to suggest you and your brother stay the night. The Knight Police are on the prowl, and the Blood of the Samurai is recruiting rather aggressively."

Suzaku opened his mouth to decline, but Ko's worried eyes stopped him. While he could take care of himself, his brother couldn't. Tokyo was normally peaceful compared to the other districts, yet it would be best to send Ko back to his foster family if things were becoming heated.

"Thank you, Ban-san," Suzaku said. "I'll help in the kitchen."

Ko beamed eagerly. "And I can dry?"

"Yes," Suzauku said and stepped out of the room with the tempting simulator. He could hear it powerup behind him as his students eagerly tried their hands.

As the evening crowd began to trickle in, Ban ducked his head into the kitchen and smiled fondly at Ko running across the floor with a plate and handing it to the chef. Oblivious, Ko bowed seriously before rushing back to Suzaku and demanding a new plate.

"Thank you for letting us stay the night," Suzaku said.

"I just don't want to lose my best instructor because someone took your brother hostage," he said.

"Did you hear anything?" Suzaku asked quietly.

"People were asking about you, and the Blood of the Samurai has grown much bolder. Before, they had the good sense to respect our territory."

"I'm nobody special," Suzaku mumbled.

Ban snorted. "Anyone who can take down a grown man without breaking a sweat is something, but you're not invincible."

"What's with the new crowd?" Suzaku asked quietly, catching sight of the Britannian man passing the door. He had recently taken to dropping by at random. Something about him was aggravatingly familiar.

"Nothing to worry about," Ban said with a quick smile. "Your vacation ends in two days, right?"

"That is when the lord will be back."

"Can you keep your ears open?"

Suzaku set down the sponge. "You're not... changing your policy?"

"Nothing like that. Just... rumors. If you hear anything unusual, would you let me know?"

Unless he wanted to spill the JLF's secrets, Suzaku couldn't say anything. He heard plenty, but the information itself was suspicious since the source was often either Tohdoh or Kaguya's mole. Still, he nodded stiffly and focused on cleaning the pot.

"Can we do something else, nii-san?" Ko whined, having finally tired.

"Why don't you try the simulator?" Ban suggested and offered the key. "I saw you looking at it earlier, and you should have some privacy."

Something was amiss. First, Ban had acquired a simulator, risking his business. Then, he had wanted noble gossip. Now, he was strangely eager for him to try out the knightmare.

"Please, nii-san," Ko begged. Against his better judgment, Suzaku accepted the keys.

The simulator stunk of booze, vomit, and sweat. Already, he was regretting his decision, but Ko was grinning eagerly and just wanted to be proud of his brother. Suzaku couldn't let him down. Focusing on the screen, Suzaku took a deep breath and imagined a different life. One where the invasion of Japan had never happened.

He would have followed Lelouch back to Britannia. There had been little keeping him in Japan anyway. Nunnally had once joked he would be a knight like their mother. Even now, he felt that he had missed some nuance. That had often been the case with the siblings. They had thought of him as a peer which meant they never took the time to explain various subtleties.

The distorted Britannian flag flickered to life on the screen. A few seconds later, the custom program loaded, and Suzaku finished the agonizingly slow tutorial to familiarize himself with the controls. It was surprisingly easy. He had always thought that such a behemoth of a machine would require excruciating effort to control. The first real enemy dropped from a plane, painted in bright blue.

He didn't hesitate.

Suzaku rolled away from the mechanical corpse as a pleasant thrum ran through his body. His heart pounded eagerly, and his hands were already in motion by the time his brain registered the second enemy.

It was a dance of rapidly moving hands, corresponding to smooth leaps through the air and slash harkens tearing through his enemies. Distantly, he heard the operator announcing the arrival of a new alien ship. Each wave, the knightmares moved faster and were a little more precise. His own machine was beginning to slow, the small amounts of damage he had taken beginning to build.

Facing the seventh wave, Suzaku paused and considered. His instinct was to charge ahead. Tohdoh always reprimanded such reckless behavior. It had been Lelouch who had finally driven the lesson home. Weaker and slower, he had still managed to win their spar with careful preparation and by deliberately pushing his buttons.

If he charged in, he would lose as his opponents surrounded him and his machine would continue to take damage. His eyes darted across the city which he had ignored to focus on the enemy units. The narrow streets would prevent the enemy from surrounding him.

He shot forward, sniping one unit, and ducked into the streets. His heart raced at the challenge. The enemy units came slowly and deliberately as Suzaku retreated through the streets and whittled down their numbers. Finally, there were three.

Hadn't there been more?

For a moment, Lelouch's laughter echoed through his head as he victoriously dropped the water balloon on his head. Suzaku had been moments from victory, all his opponents drenched before him, except he had lost track of Lelouch, a fatal mistake.

Heart in his throat, he ducked, a slash harken shattering the wall where he had stood. Two units stood behind him. Three before. And he was screwed. As the simulator finally powered down—the last unit having struck a disabling blow—Suzaku wondered who the hell had decided to program in tactics.

The door opened, and Ko chatted excitedly having seen the entire battle on the screen. Standing in the doorway, Ban's brow was furrowed in thought. Filled with trepidation, he stepped outside and stared at the leaderboard where his round flashed in third place. It hadn't been that hard. He had been stupid to fall for such a simple trick.

Ban walked to the terminal and his high score vanished. "Let's stay away from knightmare simulators."

"Why? I didn't even get the highscore," Suzaku said. Although, if he tried again, he probably could achieve it.

"They're not real."

"What?"

"I didn't want any kid to get a highscore and run off thinking they're some hotshot, so I falsified the top three scores. They're basically a perfect score."

"But it was easy."

Ban rubbed his forehead. "Please, stop talking." His gaze swung to Ko. "This is going to be our little secret, understood? You can't tell anyone."

"Nii-san?" Ko asked as Ban hurried out of the room.

Whispering assurances, Suzaku picked him up and ignored his turbulent stomach. "Wait here, for a moment. I need to talk to Ban for a minute."

Leaving his brother behind, Suzaku found Ban in his office, surrounded by stacks of paper. He closed the door and waited patiently for the man to acknowledge him.

Finally, Ban set down his pen and leaned back in the chair. "Kid, you don't want to go down this road."

"I'm an ace," Suzaku guessed.

"Potentially," Ban said. He stared off into space. "There was an ace in my unit… Compared to him, you're too slow. Watching his knightmare move was… You forget it is a machine. I don't know how a simulator compares though. They're shoddy imitations of the real thing, especially the program Daisuke hacked together."

Still, he had potential. That was more than most people could say.

Perhaps he should be feeling dread; there was only elation. It was like discovering he could break a board with his fists again. No matter what others did, he achieved it without others' help. Chiba, Kururugi, it didn't matter. The accomplishment was his own.

"Don't get yourself killed, kid," Ban warned. "You have a tendency to think with your heart first."

Suzaku would have to tell Tohdoh once the JLF finally allowed him to return home again. With this, Tohdoh would allow him to help. He wouldn't have another choice. Ignoring a potential ace, even if they were family, was stupid, and Suzaku would finally be able to protect his people. He would be part of the upcoming battles, sitting in a cockpit, and facing Britannia's strongest, such as Lelouch's mother.

"Now, you get it," Ban said. "I won't tell anyone, and you shouldn't either. Not unless you're prepared to put your life down on the line."

Suzaku was. Had always been ready to do what it would take. Killing though was a different matter.

"Your brother would be heartbroken," Ban said, cutting through his rambling thoughts.

No, Suzaku wasn't ready to die either. He nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Ban-san."

That night, curled around his brother on the narrow cot, Suzaku clenched his eyes shut and tried to forget Lelouch and Nunnally's laughter. If he told anyone, there would never be a happy reunion. At best, he would see them from the inside of a prison cell before his execution. Tohdoh would say he was foolish for hanging onto the tentative hope that they could laugh together once more. A royal would never cross paths with an Eleven.

Then there was the question of how much they would've changed. Lelouch's successful negotiations in Australia meant he served Britannia's best interests now. And Britannia's best interest meant capturing the son of the late Prime Minister. Nunnally was more of a wild card. He hadn't been as close to her as Lelouch, and news of her was nonexistent. That would probably change in the fall with her birthday.

Telling Tohdoh he was a potential ace would shatter the tentative hope for a peaceful meeting. He was such a fool.

New York, Homeland

Kallen accepted the sandwich from her dad and leaned against the car door to watch the bumper to bumper traffic. Taking the metro would be faster, but as much as she despised it, they were nobles. Maybe she could have convinced her dad otherwise if there hadn't been an assassin hounding their footsteps ever since they left Japan. She hid behind their guards and exorbitant security with relief, while disgust at her cowardice churned her stomach.

"Only a little longer, Kallen," her dad said. "I know you hate this. I'm sorry."

"Pimping myself out, you mean? I'm not going to marry any Britannian bastard anyway." She tore the moist paper off and stared at the soggy bread in disgust. "You won't make me, right?"

"Your brother would have some rather cross words with me." He chuckled. "Your presence helps us get into the negotiating room. Lord Ashford continues to thrive despite the odds, and you're an enticing connection to him."

"He's a crazy old man," she grumbled. He threw decorum out the window half the time, and she often wondered how he was still alive with his irreverent comments regarding Prince Clovis and the other royals.

"With Empress Marianne's ear, who in turn has the Emperor's ear. Even allying with Prince Clovis doesn't get you that type of connection." Her dad grinned ruefully. "And now, you're an ace, which makes you an invaluable asset beyond our meager family name."

Kallen grimaced. "Lord Ashford... He says I'm an excellent pilot."

"That's good, Kallen," her dad assured. "If your mixed heritage leaks, it will give you some measure of protection. The Stadtfelds might be ruined, but you'll be fine and able to live in some comfort."

"By joining the army," she grumbled.

"Would that truly be so bad? Nobody will question your loyalty, you'll have room for advancement and a degree of protection against assassins. A knightmare cockpit may actually be safer than walking down the street right now."

"All for the cost of killing innocents." She clenched her fists and focused on the crowd crossing the street. New York felt different to occupied Japan, calmer in many ways. Poverty and strife was kept far out of sight. New York was the land of the commoners and aimless noble heirs. A bus passed, plastered with a military recruitment poster showing Empress Marianne's distinctive knightmare.

She should tell her dad the news. That Empress Marianne had extended an invitation to spar. That she had the potential to become a Knight of the Round. But then he would tell her mom, and she would look at Kallen with betrayed eyes. Unlike Naoto, she had never begrudged her for seeming to side with Britannia. She seemed genuinely happy that Kallen was abandoning her Japanese roots. Sitting in the machine of her country's demise, at the command of their conqueror though? That would be too much.

Kaguya wouldn't care. She would demand that Kallen pursued this opportunity in order to gain a high placed spy.

"Kallen?" A hand settled on her knee. "Hey. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. She still had time. If worse came to worst, she would throw her spar. Then Empress Marianne would have no more interest in her. Everything could return to normal. Except she would still have Kaguya holding her leash, enforced by the assassin lurking in her shadow. And more of her people would be gunned down or starve in the streets as Kallen lived a life of luxury. She took another shaky breath and smiled. "I'm fine, just want to go home."

"Understandable. Traveling is exhausting." He cracked his shoulders. "And I'm afraid that my poor back will never be the same again."

Kallen snorted. "That might just be your age catching up with you."

He shot her a dismayed look before glancing out the window again. "We need this deal. Play nice."

"I thought that they needed us?"

"Royal influence merely got us a meeting. Fadiman & Jenkins has a brand built on being 'for the people, by the people.' Not that they really are. They generally don't risk their public image. Our... Japanese ties will have them shun us immediately. For a commoner company, they are incredibly influential and brokering an agreement will give Lord Ashford the monetary capital to cut certain nobles off."

"You mean the Purists?"

"And then some." He smiled grimly. "I know you don't like the army, but they're a military family. Keep your comments to yourself."

Kallen scowled. "Could've left me at the hotel then. Not like they want our nobility to dilute their brand."

"That's what relatives are for," her father said weakly.

"Hell, no." She crossed her arms. "I'm not flirting with some spoiled military brat. Also, tell your wife to stop trying to set me up. Half of them are like twice my age."

He rubbed the back of his head. "Your mother in public, but yes, I'll talk to her. She's just a little overeager. Everyone wants access to an ace."

"I love being bartered," she drawled.

"Manners, Kallen." Pointedly, he took a bite of a sandwich. "You can say no. All I'm asking is that you have an open mind. As an ace, you might even be able to catch an Earl. Normally, they wouldn't even bother looking at us. Or is there someone at school?"

Kallen buried her head in her hands. "Please stop."

"If there is someone, I'll back off. You can't rush these things. But be careful. You never know who is just after your money. There's a private investigator who owes me a favor—"

"Enough. We're not talking about this. I'll play nice, and then we'll go home and pretend this conversation never happened."

Her dad simply looked amused.

Silently fuming, Kallen ignored him for the remainder of the ride. They stopped before a towering skyscraper, and she eyed it disdainfully. The lobby was bustling with activity, and the receptionist waved them over to an elevator as employees waved badges to pass through the barrier on the opposite side.

Surprisingly, they traveled to the second highest floor. Her dad patted her reassuringly on her back as the door opened, and they entered a lavishly decorated foyer. On the wall hung muted landscape paintings and depictions of Britannian victories. It put her own home and Ashford Academy to shame. The exuberant display of wealth from the commoners she had witnessed this trip was baffling. There was so much posturing with hardly any substance.

The Fadiman home definitely stood apart though.

A butler approached and bowed deeply. "May I take your coat, my lord?" He draped the coat over his arm and gestured down the hallway. "Right this way, my lord."

Kallen rolled her eyes and cringed at her dad's glare. She would have to behave or deal with his overbearing disappointment for the rest of the trip. Really, she should never have agreed to go on the trip in the first place. It was a miracle she hadn't snapped yet surrounded by Britannian hypocrisy. Then again, she had no idea how she would have reacted when faced with the Butcher. Probably, not well.

"Welcome, my lord," an elderly, black haired man said. He leaned on a beautifully crafted silver cane and extended a wrinkled hand, showing a wedding ring with an emerald stripe.

Besides him stood a blond woman, his wife, judging by the matching ring. Unlike Kallen, she was dressed practically in a business suit. Not being nobility afforded her more freedom in what to wear.

Kallen's dad stepped forward eagerly, accepting the handshake and clasped the man's arm. "You have a beautiful home, Mr. Fadiman."

"You're too kind," Ms. Fadiman said and extended her hand. "Madeline. Please, call me Maddy. And there in the corner is my mother, Ruth. Don't mind her. She always insists on attending these meetings, even though she is near deaf." She laughed and extended an arm to the man besides her. "My charming brother—"

"Norman Jenkins," Mr. Jenkins said and patted the youth next to him on the back. "And my son, Charles."

Kallen hated him already.

Mr. Fadiman clapped his hands together. "Shall we begin then? Although perhaps the children would prefer to mingle."

A look from her dad silenced her protests, and she grinned through gritted teeth. Listening to the negotiations would be much more interesting than dealing with the military brat. At least there, she wouldn't be required to make polite small talk.

At least the sitting room was nice. Carefully spreading out the dress her dad had insisted on, she sat down on the sofa. After a brief word with his father, Charles took the seat opposite of her, and a servant brought a small platter of assorted snacks.

The old woman stood up with an audible groan, leaning on a plain, functional cane. Her eyes swept past them without a hint of awareness, and she hobbled out of the room. The door shut behind her, somehow quieter than the cracking of her knees.

Kallen grabbed a small bruschetta. "It's a nice home."

"Thank you. So you attend Ashford Academy?" He leaned forward, flashing his white teeth. "Are the rumors about Lord Ashford true?"

"You'll have to be more specific," she said. If he thought that she was the weak link in her family and would spill sensitive information, he was thoroughly mistaken. She had experience with far more dangerous secrets.

"He trained Empress Marianne, didn't he? And now you're learning under the same genius." At her noncommittal shrug, he continued, "I saw her once when I was stationed in Area Two. Her knightmare danced. I could scarcely believe it was a machine and not some divine beast."

Feigning interest, she let him ramble on, her eyes flitting to the old grandfather clock to track the sedated passage of time. From Empress Marianne, he shifted to his own glorious exploits abroad and their associated scars. Each story was probably a ludicrous tall tale.

"So I'm standing there, sand raining down on my head, and I see—" He frowned.

Muffled voices neared the door, becoming clearer.

"—to fail the PT test if—You're doing it."

"Absolutely not—spending my vacation—"

"I'm going to stand there laughing while you flail like a fish."

"It's not that bad."

"Toothpick."

"Shut up."

"Then I'll see at o'five hundred." The door opened and a tall, black haired man entered, followed by a slightly shorter companion whose violet eyes made her stomach twist uncomfortably. "Think of it as an opportunity to see the sights." He stopped, his gaze passing over her and landing on Charles. "I wasn't aware there was a meeting today."

"Perhaps you would have known had you called," Charles said scornfully. "I'm surprised you finally dared to show your face. It's almost like you don't care for this family… or the company."

Noble families had a tendency to present a unified front and hide their weaknesses. Among the families they had visited this trip, it was the opposite. Weakness was brandished, inviting anyone to exploit it. As her dad had explained, they firmly believed in survival of the fittest, even pitting family members against each other to ensure the company would survive the next generation. If no one of blood was deemed suitable, the family would adopt someone who was. The hostility between the two suggested they were competing for the same spot.

"I did call ahead and leave a message," he said.

"I wonder what could've happened," Charles answered, his tone suggesting he was the one at fault.

The other youth stepped forward, narrowed eyes scanning her dress and forming a judgment. Something about his perfect face was uncomfortably familiar. He bowed and for a terrifying moment, she thought he was going to ask her out, before recognizing the bow from the etiquette book Lord Ashford had insisted she read. It conveyed respect upon an introduction when one wasn't sure of the other's rank. In the margins, someone had written in precise penmanship that it's repeated use was an excellent insult. There had been quite a few notes on insulting people, although she couldn't imagine Lord Ashford employing such childish tactics.

"Lelouch Lamperouge," he said, finishing the obscure bow. She had never seen someone employ it in real life. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance."

She smiled, not trusting herself to speak as her heart thundered. For years, she had ridiculed the girls in her class who would fawn over Nunnally's brother in whispered voices. They didn't even know him and had only seen him in passing. She had thought it was because they were enamored with the uniform. Perhaps that was part of it, but she could no longer fault them.

The other man pinched his nose. "Please don't bow."

"It's called having manners," Lamperouge said. "You should try it some time, Roy."

"It makes it seem like you have a stick up your ass." Roy stepped forward and offered his hand. "Roy Fadiman. Roy is fine. I apologize for our untimely intrusion. There seems to have been a slight miscommunication."

"Kallen Stadtfeld," she answered.

"Nunnally's friend, right?" Lamperouge said, recognition dawning. She was bitterly reminded that he had marked her as a threat in Ashford's security. "How is she doing?"

When Kallen had left, Nunnally had been diving head first into potential treason. "Wonderful."

"She did something, didn't she?" Lamperouge mumbled and took a seat. Ignoring the tray of food, he pulled out a small box. "Rice balls?"

Roy leaned forward and picked one out. Ignoring the looks from his cousin, he leaned back and slowly bit into it. Her stomach clenched as she saw white rice wrapped in seaweed—onigiri. Was it a trap? Lamperoug knew of her Japanese heritage. He had seen the destruction of Japan and joined the Britannian army. Unlike the other members of the student council, he was no stranger to Britannia's darkness. Yet, he continued to serve her willingly.

"No, thank you," she said, fervently hoping no one else heard the tremor in her voice. She couldn't risk being associated with anything Japanese. "Your sister made Euphie cry."

"That—" Lamperouge leaned back contemplatively.

"What? You think your sister is some little angel who would never make someone cry?"Kallen asked.

Lamperouge snorted. "I'm surprised that Euphie cried. Nunnally of course is still an angel."

"Because she can do no wrong?" Kallen asked, sarcasm dripping from her words.

"Yes?" he said.

She stared at him in disbelief. He would definitely be of a different opinion were he to discover his sister was plotting against Clovis.

He pursed his lips, studying her intently. "Most people don't notice the real her though."

"That's their fault. She defends you passionately, you know." Kallen's lip curled. "I fail to understand what she sees in someone like you."

"Her scapegoat. She used to blame me for everything." He sniffed. "The worst part is that my parents always believed her. They still do. You blame your infant sister once for eating all the cake, and you're always at fault. Even when she has icing on her mouth, and you've been gone all day."

Baffled, Kallen asked, "And you still like her?"

"She's my sister," he said as if that explained everything.

"And that's why you introduced her to some shady guy named Brian?"

"It made her happy."

"How ever did you meet him?" She smirked. Perhaps, she didn't have to worry about him outing her because it would make Nunnally upset. Having additional ammunition wouldn't hurt though. "He doesn't strike me as the type to run around in legal circles."

"Cooking contest," he said.

Her smile became slightly too sharp. He had information on her; she knew of his questionable activities. That had to be worth something. "He mentioned a favor."

"I traded a recipe," he said blandly.

"It seemed like a big thing."

"It was a very good recipe." He leaned forward. "Should I share it with you to satisfy your curiosity?"

Roy groaned and pulled him back. "Please ignore him. He is slightly sleep deprived."

"I wouldn't mind the recipe," Kallen said. "It has to be something incredibly special. Or did you bribe the judge?"

"That would be the Britannian way, wouldn't it," Lamperouge said, still not rising to the bait.

Clearing his throat, Roy elbowed him. "How is it like attending a school with commoners, Lady Ashford?"

"A rewarding experience. I get to meet people from many different backgrounds. The army is similar, isn't it?"

"Noble officers barely interact with the common folks. Or do your peers use their status to order their classmates around?" he asked, neglecting to harp on about his own military career. Even at her explicit questions, he deflected, while Charles would take the opportunity to go on length about himself.

Frustrated, Kallen crossed her arms. "You mean to say nothing interesting ever happens in the army?"

Charles scoffed. "No. He just doesn't want to say he's accomplished nothing noteworthy and is an embarrassment to his family. I had commendations coming out of Basic; he had a litany of complaints and got sent to the middle of nowhere. His career was already over by the time he began. There's no room for advancement when surrounded by rejects. There are even Numbers there."

Roy seemed unfazed, but Lamperouge's eyes darkened.

"Funny, I couldn't disagree more," Lamperouge said.

"Then share some stories," Charles goaded.

"We were on guard duty one night when another group radioed in for help. Roy had the good judgement to order myself and two others to investigate. Turns out, the enemy was using the cover of night for an ambush. If he hadn't sent us out, we would be dead and most of the division as well."

"Lelouch," Roy hissed.

"He got hospitalized after an unfortunate encounter with a grenade. He risked his life for mine. And our current commander trusts him," Lamperouge finished, cold eyes boring into Charles. "Some of us care more for getting the job done than taking care of the paperwork for meaningless self-satisfaction."

"And anything interesting is classified," Roy reprimanded with a pointed look at his friend.

A buzz stalled whatever Lamperouge was going to say as he pulled out his phone. "Seriously?"

"Your mother again?" Roy asked as the phone buzzed again. "Just turn it off."

"Can't. I promised my father I wouldn't, which my mother knows and is happily taking advantage of." He typed a quick reply and grimaced as the phone buzzed again. "I'm sorry."

"Your father is alive?" Kallen asked.

"Yes," Lamperouge said and pinched his nose as his phone buzzed again. "Not again."

"What?" Roy asked.

"She's asking my opinion on the best color for knightmares."

"Red," Kallen said automatically. It was only appropriate given how much bloodshed they caused.

"Purple," Charles and Roy answered, glaring at each other.

"What is this about?" Roy asked.

The phone buzzed again and Lamperouge rubbed his temple. "My mother has been trying to convince my father of bright pink for over a decade."

"What color does he prefer?" Roy asked.

Lamperouge snorted. "White or black."

"Why white?" Kallen asked. "I guess black makes sense at night."

"It's the cheapest color," Lamperouge answered.

Roy snorted. "And you say you are not like your father."

"I am nothing like him," Lamperouge hissed. Clearly, neither he nor Nunnally liked their parents.

"You're a cheapskate," Roy said.

"I'm not."

"If I hadn't graciously invited you to stay with me, you'd be sleeping in some closet of questionable cleanliness," he said. Seeing the butler entering the room, he added, "A coffee, please."

Lamperouge glared.

"What? Or are you going to tell me that your father is liberal with money?"

"I think," Lamperouge said slowly, "that you have to be the first person to accuse my father of being a cheapskate."

"Am I wrong?"

"No," Lamperouge begrudgingly admitted. He waved off the butler, instead pulling out a flask. "But we're not alike. And you'll never say anything like that again."

Raising his hands in defeat, Roy said, "You're nothing alike, monetary policies aside." The phone buzzed again. "Why is she texting you all of a sudden?"

"She's always clingy before going dark."

"Dark?" Kallen asked, at the same time as Roy, who asked, "How long?"

Lamperouge grimaced. "Some classified mission with no contact. No idea how long it will be. She started taking them a few years back but doesn't tell me anything." He frowned at his phone. "And she's out."

His mother was supposed to be a knightmare pilot. At least according to Nunnally, which was corroborated by Euphie's story. She had complained that their mother spent an entire party last winter in the corner with Euphie's sister to discuss knightmare specifications. Euphie hadn't been able to get a word in edgewise.

Yet knightmare pilots almost exclusively participated in highly public campaigns. With Area Fifteen established, there wasn't any current military operation requiring knightmares. At least not the kind anyone would hear about.

Would black-ops explain the secrecy around Nunnally's family?

Studying Lamperouge intently, Kallen wondered if he had followed his mother's footsteps. It would explain the evasive answers. A monster lurked somewhere beneath his calm facade. If only she could draw it out. "Killing must be a family tradition."

The thought slipped out, and she resolutely ignored the shocked glares. The worst kind of monsters always hid in the open. Nunnally herself had insinuated that his hands were stained with blood.

"Your coffee, young master," the butler interrupted. He turned to Lamperouge. "Is there anything at all I can get you?"

"I'm fine," Lamperouge said.

"It's no trouble at all."

"I said I was fine," he snapped.

The butler turned to her and glanced at her unfinished drink. "Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?"

"It's delicious," she said.

"Maybe the young lady wants some onigiri," Lamperouge said, the warning clear. He would expose her.

Her nose wrinkled. "No, thank you."

The butler stood awkwardly in the center of the room, his eyes flicking between them.

"I've never heard of the Lamperouge family," Charles said. "What do they do?"

Roy set aside his coffee, standing up. "Diego, how long did my parents say? Why don't we come back in a few hours once everything settles down."

"It'll be just a few more minutes," the butler confirmed.

"Fine. Then can you get me something stronger. Black as you can get it."

The butler nodded and paused at Lamperouge's side before changing his mind and hurrying out.

Charles chuckled. "A simple question and you're running? Don't want to tell your parents you're hanging around with some nameless? I don't even need to do anything. You're doing an excellent job disgracing yourself."

A flash of light drew her attention, and Kallen stared at Lamperouge who was absently twirling a knife through his fingers. Who was the threat meant for? Her or Charles?

"I think we have very different definitions of honor," Roy spat. "And frankly, my friends are none of your business."

"You really don't live up to your namesake, do you?" Lamperouge commented idly. He wandered to the window, staring out at the expanse below. His hands continued to fiddle with the knife. "For one thing, you put on airs yet lack the power to back your threats. And yes, Lady Stadtfeld. My family kills people. I stabbed someone when I was nine. They were going to hurt Nunnally. Just so both of you understand what I do for the people I care about."

He held her gaze. If she ever hurt his sister, he would kill her. He had put her on the threat index for a reason and still stood by that decision.

"Lelouch," Roy groaned, head buried in his hands. "Please..."

Charles rose. "Who the hell do you think you are coming into our house and threatening me? Threatening our guest? Is this some game to you?"

"When lives are at stake, never." Lamperouge grinned and tapped the glass. "How strong is this?"

"Lelouch, really? You're not going to be able to break the glass. Also, stop baiting my cousin," Roy said, shoulders sagging in defeat. "I'm not going to let you kill him."

"I guess more creative options are on the table then," Lamperouge said.

Kallen gaped. Was he completely insane? Although perhaps it was genetic. Nunnally threw caution aside as well once she got angry.

"A few strikes to the face might set you right." Charles jerked his hand back and walked to the door. "I'm done here. We'll see what my father and uncle have to say. They at least can make sure that you and your precious family never work again."

"Please, young master," the butler interrupted. "Can we all calm down?"

Lamperouge scoffed, tossing the knife from hand to hand. "That would imply they actually needed to work."

"He's sorry and will apologize." Roy rose and glared at his friend. "Isn't that right?"

"Only if he tells me who his target is," Lamperouge said, and they froze, following his line of sight to the butler.

"Diego?" Roy asked. "He works for us. Has been since... last year."

"I don't—I don't understand," the butler said, backing away, hands raised.

Kallen rose and shook her head. Lamperouge was clinically insane. "This has gone far enough."

Charles doubled over, clutching his stomach.

The knife flew through the air, the butler gasped, and a gun fell to the floor.

"Poisons act faster when your heart rate increases." Lamperouge, a gun in his hands, looked down at Charles."And you ate the most. I'd say you arranged this, but most people aren't willing or smart enough to poison themselves."

Roy pulled out his phone. "There's no signal. And damn it, Lelouch. Next time, tell me!" His head swiveled to the butler turned assassin. "Don't move."

Heart in her throat, Kallen stepped behind the couch and clutched her pocket knife. It felt woefully inadequate. They were here for her.

And her dad… Who was sitting in a room, completely unaware of the danger he was in.

Viceroy's Palace, Tokyo, Area Eleven

"What an unexpected surprise," Mr. Reid said. Thankfully, he didn't attempt to intrude on Nunnally's personal space like last time. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness... officially."

Nunnally inclined her head and bit her lip, her heart thundering. He had her at a disadvantage, a potentially catastrophic one. And he knew about Allie. "I would expect a man of your standing to not sully their hands."

"I could say the same to you, Your Highness," he said, his voice sharp. For a moment she considered whether the lack of deference was because she was blind. "The rumors of you playing against Prince Schneizel are true then?"

No, Mr. Reid was a different, more dangerous beast. He wouldn't underestimate her.

She smiled. "And does Clovis know that you are taking on side-work?"

"Simple boredom. Prince Clovis does my job well enough for me that I occasionally need something to stimulate the mind. Nothing is more exciting than being in the field, watching a potential story unfold." Or he was feeling the shifting winds and knew that he could soon be out of a job. He took a step forward, his footstep muted by the carpet. "And what an interesting story, I uncovered. What does your mother think of your accomplishments?"

Her smile slipped. "My parents take my privacy very seriously, Mr. Reid. If you haven't erased that tape, I would do so immediately."

"Wandering the streets and visiting such establishments isn't safe."

"Because of my condition?"

"Of being royalty? You could say it's my duty to discreetly inform your family."

Clasping her hands together, she forcibly relaxed. Threats wouldn't work. "Go ahead. As long as it's discreet, I don't care. Now, weren't you supposed to be teaching me?"

Her ears strained against the sudden silence. Then footsteps receded across the carpet and a case snapped shut.

"Tomorrow, Your Highness. I will need to find something appropriate for you." Reid neared the door. "It has been interesting meeting you. Unfortunately, I cannot neglect my duties to Prince Clovis."

He was lying. Already, he was seeking out new opportunities and preparing to jump ship. She was simply a curiosity, but not worth wasting time on.

"And what are you working on?" Nunnally asked.

"Some Eleven took hostages last night, and we need to release a statement before the rumors get out of hand. Prince Clovis would have my head if I exposed you to such unpleasantness."

"Did Britannian soldiers kill them?" she asked. She couldn't afford to be sidelined and become the pretty wallflower she often pretended to be. "The cell is either ill trained or new if they failed to make it into a public spectacle. Who was it?"

The door shut again. "Yes... and they tried. The Blood of the Samurai took credit."

"They normally target infrastructure or military convos."

"New leadership. Kusakabe." Reid paused. "I see you're adept at listening, but I must be going."

"Wait," Nunnally ordered. "I'm here to learn."

"And you will, when I have time "

"Then take me with you. I won't interfere." She raised her chin, trying to appear imposing and probably failing miserably.

"Your presence would be hard to explain, and Prince Clovis ordered to keep your visit quiet. I will have my assistant give you a tour of the studio tomorrow."

Her mother had arranged for her to learn under Clovis. Then he hadn't seen her worth his time and hoisted her off on Reid. Honestly, she didn't mind. Reid was probably the real media power behind Clovis. But now, he was going to send her to someone else.

"My mother made this arrangement." Nunnally crossed her arms. "I wonder how she'll react when I tell her you had no time for me. That you denied my request."

Reid laughed. "You won't tell her anything."

"I will."

"No, you won't. The Emperor values personal strength. Empress Marianne clawed her way up from nothing; she surely shares that philosophy. You want to prove yourself, and leveraging your mother's power accomplishes nothing."

Nunnally swallowed, her mouth painfully dry. She had nothing to her name. Her only power lay in connections and... "What do you want to know?"

"That's better." He walked past her, and his foot tapped the ground impatiently. Hesitantly, she followed him, stopping when she heard the familiar high pitched whine of a jammer. "Tell me about your brother."

As always, he was the one that preoccupied people's thoughts. Either him or her mother, with her only value being in knowing them. They never saw her.

"He is rather curious. He briefly appeared in Australia and concluded the negotiations. There is a rumor that the Emperor, tired of Prince Schneizel, had sent Prince Lelouch to teach him a lesson. Care to comment? No? My question is when did he learn to negotiate. For years, he was nowhere to be seen except as the social outcast at every ball. So either he is some kind of a savant, or he had some applicable experience beforehand. The more interesting information you feed me, the more time I'll discover to invest in you."

She could say that Lelouch was Zero. It would be the story of a lifetime, and if Reid kept his word, he would help her for the foreseeable future. It would be simple. Three words.

Lelouch would forgive her; he always did. And he would no longer be the Commoner's Brat, the Whore's Son, or the Prodigal Prince. Cornelia's victories had silenced her critics because military success brought respect.

"Lelouch defeated Kusakabe," Nunnally said.

Reid's breath hitched.

"He was ten, and it was a game similar to chess," she elaborated, unable to suppress her grin. Lelouch would forgive her, but if he was hurt, she wouldn't be able to forgive herself. That didn't mean she couldn't help him in another way. "Kusukabe thought that he would show an upstart little Britannian prince his place. Instead, he suffered a humiliating loss in a game where he had the home advantage. To make matters worse, he lacked the grace to take his loss with any dignity."

"And why was he playing against an Eleven?" Reid asked.

"Why, Mr. Reid, you haven't paid me yet."

After a beat of silence, he said, "Very well. If anyone asks, you're my niece, Willow."

Idly wondering if Willow existed, Nunnally gripped her cane tightly and followed his precise footsteps. Two flights of staircases later, Reid asked her to wait for a moment. He returned with a hat and a thick scarf, too warm for the weather. He exhaled slowly, his breath echoing. She could faintly hear cars honking.

"You're going to be silent and will do everything I say. Understood?"

"Of course."

"Do you?" he grumbled. "I have no problem locking you in the car for your own safety. And of course, Prince Clovis won't hear any of this. He wouldn't like me risking your safety as such."

She nodded, and he roughly grabbed her arm, leading her outside.

New York, Homeland

Lelouch probably hadn't slept enough to be dealing with an assassination. He knew he wasn't thinking straight. The best he could hope for was to wrap this up as quickly as possible, preferably before his parents noticed and grew concerned, blowing his identity out of the water. He simply had to take care of it. Nice and quick.

The girl, Kallen, was cowering behind the couch. She at least had the good sense to seek cover. She wasn't adept at wearing a mask as she thought she was. Her general disdain towards all of them was clear. He would've dismissed it as general noble superiority, but Nunnally would never have chosen a friend like that. There was only one other commonality between them all: the military.

A civilian who hated soldiers. That was going to be problematic.

He could plan around that. He just needed to think. Unfortunately, the butler continued to proclaim his innocence. They didn't have the time to get the necessary intel. He was scared of his real employer though. That meant there would most likely be reinforcements.

His eyes flicked back to Kallen who had settled into a familiar stance. Great. Suzaku joining Edgar's in his nightmares was exactly what he needed.

"Lelouch," Roy said, a calming hand on his shoulder. "Guard the door."

He breathed in and nodded. Orders. They helped. This wasn't like the time at the bar where he and his friends were limp on the floor. This time they were both armed with only one member down on the ground, surrounded by vomit.

Vomit? Probably non-lethal. Just debilitating. Their attackers weren't necessarily looking to kill.

He stood by the door, his mind racing. This was his fault. That was why his father had insisted on the extra guards. He had known something. But they were waiting on the street below, too far to be of any help.

Lelouch readjusted his grip. He had brought this calamity to Roy's home. He would take care of it.

Footsteps neared, and the power shut off.

Worldbuilding Thoughts:

- Trying to balance knightmare prowess is Suzaku, who has no issues with piloting the Lancelot on his first try. I find it interesting that Cecile mentions that he scored at the top of the class in the simulator. I would think it's rather unlikely that they dedicated an entire class to teaching Numbers to pilot knightmares that they would never use. Although that is more believable than Suzaku going in blind despite having only read the manual. I always took the line to mean that Britannia threw everyone in the simulator for one day and recorded the score. It could perhaps explain why Lloyd was invested in saving Suzaku. The line could also mean that Cecile and Lloyd threw him into a simulator and compared his scores to a current knightmare class.

- Adopting adults into a family is a thing in Japan and rather common when needing a male heir for a business. Worldbuilding wise, it's a good way to keep power in the family without running into the stereotypical British problem of inbreeding. The other benefit is that you can actually make sure your heir isn't a complete idiot. So… I heard this a long time ago, my brain ran with it, and then I rediscovered it.

Author's Note:

I am very sorry for the unexpected hiatus. I would say health issues snuck up on me, but it was more me ignoring them because what you don't acknowledge doesn't exist (Sadly, not true). It's also possible that February/March hates me because I swear something like this happens every year. I'm doing better now, so onwards we go. And damn, I was excited for the next chapter even before I finished book 1. I actually considered starting on this scene with Kallen.

I'll be getting around to replying to comments/reviews soon. Replying took a backseat to trying to get this chapter out, which I'm sure is what you prefer for me to focus on.

For April Fools, I wrote a one-shot related to Excalibur, but it's kinda cracky, and I hate it. I'm not sure if I'll post it as is eventually or just rewrite the entire thing (again).

Anyway, the next update is in two weeks, maybe a few days earlier than usual.

Thank you x1tears1X on FFN and Dark for your help with betaing. Leave a comment on your way out. :)

Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj