Recap: Area 11 is in an upheaval after Clovis attempted to annihilate the Shinjuku Ghetto. Lelouch, along with the 712th, has been dispatched to provide humanitarian aid and discover the truth behind the disaster. Suzaku is trapped within the ghettos, and Naoto remains restricted in one of Ashford's labs with his little brother Oscar.
Chapter 32: Tailored Truths
August 21, 1997
Father kissed Marianne. They kissed like two teenagers in a romance novel, obscured by the tall garden hedges. I thought such scenes were a figment of fantasy. Perhaps it only happens to commoners with their inferior breeding.
August 24, 1997
As sneaking around the mansion is difficult, I recruited Schneizel. We watch them with binoculars and listen to them over hidden mics. Maybe we will be proper spies when we grow up. If only we were gaining important information instead of the sappy promises Marianne and Father offered each other. It is disgusting. Schneizel agrees. We have come up with a plan: Operation Break Up.
September 2, 1997
Operation Break Up is going along terribly. Schneizel and I decided we needed more knowledge and read every romance novel we could get our hands on. Somewhere in these pages should be the secret to breaking up a couple. The only thing we are establishing is that there might be something more between Marianne and Father. We're going back to the battlefield tomorrow, hopefully war drives them apart.
September 3, 1997
Cornelia stowed away in the luggage. We are already half a day away and have no one to spare to send her back. Cornelia is going to war. Somehow, this is Marianne's fault.
—Excerpts from Odysseus's Journal
Ashford Labs, Tokyo, Area Eleven
In the midst of filing paperwork, Naoto heard the door swing open—gently, not urgent—followed by two sets of footsteps. Deliberately ignoring them, he fumbled around for another minute with the paperwork. When he couldn't reasonably stretch out his delay any longer, he slammed the drawer shut.
His people were dying out there, and Lord Ashford had him trapped here, tending to well off chemists and engineers who always managed to ignore some safety precautions or just generally lacked common sense.
Finally, he turned around; his stomach lurched. Sheepishly, Frederick waved, and there, leaning on the doorway, Prince Lelouch stood with black hair and commoner clothes.
"You know," Prince Lelouch guessed, eyebrow arched.
Naoto swallowed. This was it. He was going to die. How did they even know he was here? Everyone thought he was in Nagisa.
"Well, that explains that," Prince Lelouch said dryly.
"Lelouch," Frederick hissed, a sudden stiffness in his shoulders.
"I left behind Henry for a reason. Relax."
Prince Lelouch scanned the room before hard purple eyes landed on Naoto, boring through his mask. How had he never seen the resemblance to the Emperor before?
"It is good to see you are well, Naoto. I will leave you two to it. I have some matters to discuss with Reuben."
Frederick jolted. "You can't—"
"We're in the Ashford labs. If an assassin slips through, your presence will hardly be a deterrent. I won't wander off, I promise." He rolled his eyes, and ordered over his shoulder, "Have some fun."
The door slammed shut, and Frederick winced at Naoto's glare. Rubbing the back of his head, he offered a strained smile. For all that Naoto couldn't look at Prince Lelouch the same, Frederick retained his warm demeanor.
"So did His Highness order you to spy on me?" Naoto accused, trying to crack his mask. "I guess both of you had a good laugh stringing the half-Number along."
"No!" Frederick sagged, biting his lip. "I wanted to get to know you better. That's it. Your heritage had nothing to do with it. You managed to weather Lelouch's past bullshit and seemed nice."
"That's it? You're part of his royal guard. Your life belongs to him. You could murder someone in cold blood, and it wouldn't matter because you're above the law. He is the only one who can censure you."
"I'm starting to understand why Lelouch never tells anybody," Frederick grumbled quietly. He sighed and grabbed a chair. "That is all true, but unless you try to kill Lelouch, none of it matters. You knew I was a soldier before; it's essentially the same thing. My oaths are merely to Lelouch instead of the Emperor."
Naoto's angry retort stalled on his tongue. No matter how irrationally betrayed he felt, he couldn't risk Oscar's life by voicing treason... again. "Pardon me for being skeptical when your prince's brother decided to slaughter an entire ghetto. One of my coworkers was there; we still haven't heard from him."
"Half-brother," Frederick corrected weakly. "Lelouch... I think he might actually try to punch Clovis right now, and he is one of the few siblings that Lelouch tolerated. Besides, his father was the one to stop it."
"Why are you here?" Naoto asked, since Prince Lelouch apparently hadn't come to get rid of loose ends. "You tracked me down for a reason."
"You speak Japanese... And we need more doctors." Frederick shifted. "I'm not sure Lelouch is going to give you a choice."
"About what?"
He groaned and buried his head in his hands. "I already said too much."
Naoto would have to wait until Prince Lelouch returned. Even if it was framed as a choice, he couldn't afford to turn down a prince. Studying Frederick's contrite expression, he offered a small olive branch.
"Did you see the latest War of the Sun movie? I can't believe they made Ludwig say no. He's been pining for the last three movies and you'd think—"
A strange expression flashed across Frederick's face before he burst out laughing.
"Wait, I didn't spoil it, did I?"
Frederick shook his head, barely calming himself to snickers. "It's just... Empress Marianne dragged Lelouch in for a movie night." Struggling through his laughter, he continued, "And she said the same thing, complaining that censorship concerns stopped him from pursuing a rebel which would've been more romantic. Then she bickered with the Emperor for the rest of the movie. And His Majesty kept griping about the explosions being wrong before joining Lelouch in nitpicking the tactics. I couldn't hear a damn thing because they wouldn't stop talking."
"Right." On some level Naoto knew the royals were human, but to think they would be so undignified was unimaginable. "Why would they even watch a blockbuster? They have those fancy art films that we're too plebeian to understand."
"Except Empress Marianne loves romantic soap operas. And the Emperor apparently likes ridiculous sci-fi action films."
"Aren't most soap operas French? And banned?"
"If you get waylaid into her six hour movie marathons, you would have an excellent incentive to sway Imperial censors." Frederick grinned. "Not that it works because the rules don't apply to Her Majesty."
Ten minutes later, Naoto was positive that he was being bullshitted, but he hadn't laughed this much in ages and no longer cared. Normally, he would never dare to discuss such slander, but as Frederick initiated, the risk was low.
Prince Lelouch stepped through the door to a burst of rowdy laughter. Naoto abruptly cut himself off, while Frederick took a solid minute to compose himself under Prince Lelouch's vaguely amused look.
"I see you two entertained yourself," he said.
Frederick whined, "He doesn't believe that the Emperor cheats at cards."
Prince Lelouch's face immediately soured and grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "bastard."
"Come on, I have three years of stories to share, and Roy is too stuck up to listen to them."
"Glad that someone is in a better mood."
Naoto lowered his head deferentially as his gaze swung to him. "Your Highness."
"Let's keep all the royalty garbage out of this unless I'm blond. I would rather keep my anonymity."
"Of course," Naoto agreed, swallowing the habitual honorific. "Frederick said you wanted something from me?"
Prince Lelouch nodded slowly. "Do you want to help the Japanese?"
Even now, with his identity revealed, he didn't use the term, 'Eleven'. His mother had publicly executed countless Japanese. He had ditched his guard to play videogames with the son of the former Prime Minister of Japan. And true to Kururugi's words, no Britannian forces had come looking for them.
Because of him, the Emperor personally interfered to stop a slaughter.
"I would like to," Naoto conceded, "but Lord Ashford said the risk was too high."
"Going into the ghetto unarmed and without backup would be suicidal," Prince Lelouch agreed. "Congratulations. You're being impressed."
Naoto's eyes widened. A soldier. He had never doubted Lamperouge was one, but as royalty, Prince Lelouch would be an officer. He and Frederick were in Japan for work.
"Frederick will help you pack," Prince Lelouch continued.
"What? No! I can't join the army!"
712th Division Forward Base, Area Eleven
Kallen ripped a piece of gauze viciously off the roll and grit her teeth against the burning ache in her lungs. The need to scream. Her mother and younger brother could be dead. Their apartment was within the zone Clovis decreed to be terminated.
If she could, she would throw her arms around Naoto and sob into his neck. At least he should be okay; he was working in Nagisa. That was the only good thing to come of her familial visit. Sullivan's ever watchful and hateful gaze never gave her the moment of respite needed to pass on a warning.
A medic snatched the gauze from her grip and held out his hand expectantly for more. The hall around them, and the open field before it, hummed with anguished moans. In the center of it all, Lieutenant Colonel Tamay conducted triage with a practiced eye.
While she still had her daily hand to hand combat lessons with Sullivan and knightmare training with Gino, Lamperouge had barred her from actual combat and assigned her to the infirmary. She was helping her people instead of being one order shy of slaughtering them.
But why would he care? Did he suspect her?
"Give me a sec!" Kallen snapped as the medic extended his hand again for the next strip. Why the hell was Lamperouge such a mess of contradictions! It had to be an act. He was a killer, not compassionate.
Yet he had silently broken down on the flight.
Him being Gosling answered many questions, but led to many more.
"Stadtfeld, take a break," Tamay interrupted, a hand on her shoulders. "Come on."
She let herself be pushed into the side room and sunk into a chair, grasping the hot cup of tea shoved at her. The smell of blood and infection gave way to the sharp scent of mint, and she inhaled desperately.
Tamay's mouth twisted to the side, his feelings indiscernible as ever besides the permanent aura of contempt he exuded. "If this is too much for you, I will ask the General to reassign you."
His tone suggested there would be no asking. Lamperouge might rule the division, but in his brief but frequent visits to the infirmary, he always deferred to Tamay. She scowled at the memory of his lightly accented Japanese as he translated; Kallen's accent was worse at the moment.
"No, please." Kallen shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Teenagers," he huffed and stiffly poured himself a cup. "We can't afford distractions on the job. Either we deal with this now, or you can go dig trenches or something."
She studied the slowly rising steam, words on her tongue, but unable to voice them.
"Lamperouge bought you a lot of leeway by revealing your heritage, but it won't matter if you don't drop the act."
"The act?"
He leaned forward. "You only pretend to hate the Elevens."
"Why wouldn't I?" she challenged.
"Stop lying. You will only make more enemies like that. You have nothing to gain."
"Except an execution," she shouted. "The jump from Number sympathizer to traitor is tiny. And they're suspicious of me already. I haven't done anything! So what if I hate them? They're a threat. But you'll tell me not to worry because everyone here is so enamored with Gosling. Nobody asks what deplorable thing he must have done to be trusted with command. Or how much experience he could possibly have. Who is teaching him? Why does everyone worship him!"
"Almost four years in command. Two years before that as an enlisted soldier, most of them spent going through hell on Earth with us. He got court martialed after he prevented the division from being completely wiped out. It didn't stop him from trying to save as many of us as possible. We were intended to be disposable."
Kallen's mouth dried. Four years? Something had changed then to turn him from a soldier into an officer.
"He was lucky he wasn't flogged. Even luckier that he didn't die on the field from his hairbrained stunts. If he had taken a moment to think, he wouldn't have broken his clavicle. Or gotten shot, again. And if he had a lick of common sense, he wouldn't practice knife juggling and almost cut off his own finger. Yet despite all that, he isn't one of us—cannot be one of us. But he is the best—no, only—opportunity we have for things to improve. He treats us with respect, while a noble of mixed blood such as yourself... does not."
Hunching her shoulders, she averted her eyes. "I'm sorry." It wasn't enough. Could never be while she acted for the JLF. They didn't care about the Numbers, only the Japanese.
Hadn't her mother employed a Numbered servant before the invasion? Called them the worst kind of foreigners and disparaged them for being lazy?
From the doorway, Art cleared his throat. He smirked lazily. "Act a little less Brit and more Japanese. You don't want to be a social pariah. It's not fun."
"It's not like Japan ever cared," Tamay grumbled.
Four years and a former Crow who was useful enough to live despite being despised by everyone..
"I can translate," Kallen offered shakily. Two pairs of eyes snapped to her in keen interest. "Would that help? I'm a bit rusty but.."
"Yes." Tamay's eyes narrowed at her before swinging his gaze to Art.
"It will be quick. I simply need a little—"
"No."
"It is a legitimate medical use—"
"No."
Art threw up his hands. "Will you listen to me? I didn't want Edgar to die. I liked the kid. And it's not a tranquilizer. It's insulin."
"You laid the groundwork well enough," Tamay quietly accused. "You're about as responsible as Lamper—"
"Don't you ever tell him that," Art hissed.
"He was a good student," Tamay murmured. Sighing, he stood and scribbled a note. "Take one of the medics to determine the dose."
"I'm perfectly able to figure out the dosage."
"Crow, remind me again who has reduced lung capacity because of you?"
"I didn't know!" Fists clenched, Art stepped back. "I warned her. She simply didn't care. If I had known, I would've... She was all I had, and I trusted her. That mistake is mine to bear. "
Four years ago a change in command, a Crow switched sides, and a Count turned out to be more of a Countess. Two years in hell on Earth. A price which must have been paid to allow the division such freedom...
"Pick one of the newer recruits who doesn't hate your guts," Tamay commanded. "I would rather not perform your autopsy next week because someone misinterpreted your actions."
The Japanese were a hair breadth away from breaking out in revolt. The Emperor needed someone he could trust to pacify the Area. Lamperouge didn't fit the role. He was too critical and his own sister was toeing the line of treason. But actions spoke louder than words.
Lamperouge had proved himself and continued to do so. There were no rumors of a successful Number division or even a prodigious young commander. There was nobody new except—
"He's Zero," Kallen whispered.
Two heads snapped towards her.
"Tha-That's not possible."
Zero who haunted every revolutionist's nightmares. Zero who sent shivers down noble's spines as he toppled their house with accusation of treason. Zero who tormented other nations with his elusivity and whose bounty continued to rise without end.
Shaking her head, Kallen stumbled out of her chair. "That's—"
Zero had plans for her and was in Japan. The JLF would be eliminated and Kallen had no way to warn them, even if she blew her cover.
"This is a prank," she whispered desperately.
Meeting Lamperouge had been unsettling in his irregularities. Learning he was Gosling was almost relieving. Rumors could be written off as tall-tales. The division's endless praise felt too much to be true. Men were always less than their legends. Gosling had made the pieces fit.
"Zero is his mentor," Kallen suggested wildly, voice rising. That was more believable. Less panic inducing. It was a lie.
"Stadt—Kallen," Tamay said gently, hands open and lowered. Absently, she noticed she had pulled out her knife. "You need to calm down."
"You! I—He's Ze—"
A strong hand clasped over mouth, and she stabbed backwards reflexively. It struck something hard, glancing off, and she bent her knees, lowering her weight, and half throwing her attacker over shoulder. She staggered, the room swaying slightly. Her body felt strangely weak.
"Let's not shout that for the whole world to hear," Art suggested, rising to his feet. Slowly, he led her to a chair and pushed the warm mug into her hands. "Sorry about that."
"Did you just sedate her?" Tamay hissed. "Where the hell did you even get that! I don't have time to go through my entire inventory because you bribed—"
"Relax. Alex sourced them elsewhere. Although when you tell Lelouch, if you could do it when Henry is not around that would be appreciated."
His eyes flicked to her. "I won't say anything if you keep this quiet."
Confused, Kallen tilted her head. What needed to be kept quiet?
Oh. She had reacted badly, hadn't she? Not like a Britannian with nothing to hide.
Shit.
Art stuffed his hands into his pockets, observing her. "He doesn't need more on his plate. But I do want a replacement vial."
Tamay's lip curled and the scar on his cheek rippled like a dragon prepared to take flight. So that was his angry face. "You have ten seconds to get out before I punch you."
Ashford Labs, Area Eleven
Despite Naoto's protests, Prince Lelouch had been unwavering in his decision. He only briefly paused upon entering his quarters and finding Oscar pouting on the bed. For a moment, Naoto dared to hope as Oscar glared at the two strangers suspiciously.
None of the employees in the labs had the patience to deal with Oscar's attitude. Naoto barely could himself.
Instead of shouting, Prince Lelouch knelt and bribed him with sweets and humored his brother by eating the overcooked rice that Oscar insisted on preparing that morning. He looked vaguely queasy, but smiled and effortlessly wielded the chopsticks.
"Thank you for the meal," Prince Lelouch said smoothly in Japanese before switching to English. "I had a big lunch, so why don't you finish the rest? You're still growing."
Oscar's eyes widened, and he gingerly accepted the bowl before stabbing the chopsticks right in the center. Wincing, Prince Lelouch leaned forward to fix them. Pointing at the bowl, Oscar challenged, "What's this?"
Naming various items in Japanese, Prince Lelouch was dragged into the room as Oscar enthusiastically decided they were now best friends. Naoto grit his teeth as he watched them out of the corner of his eyes but dutifully packed his bag. He was Oscar's brother, yet the enemy prince was the one he clung to. Naoto had never seen him this lively before.
Naoto gave him dessert as well, and Oscar was never as enthusiastic with him.
"Your brother needs to go somewhere," Prince Lelouch explained gently. "Do you want to stay here or come with us?"
"Can I go outside again? Please?"
"Of course." Lelouch chuckled. "Just take someone with you so you'll be safe."
"Yes!" Oscar grinned as he chose the most damning option for both him and Naoto. "I want to come. You'll be there too?"
"Of course. You see, your brother is going to be working for me for a little bit."
"I'm sorry," Frederick whispered as they left the room. "If I had known, I would've tried to talk him out of it."
Clutching his brother's hand, Prince Lelouch led him outside to the fresh, sweet tasting air. A nondescript car was parked a block down, and he opened the door to let him clamber inside, still naming various things in Japanese.
The door slammed shut, and Prince Lelouch glared at him. "Would you mind telling me why Lord Ashford thinks he needs a hostage?"
"He didn't tell you?" Naoto asked, relieved.
"Leveraging young children only works if you are willing to hurt them in the first place. While I doubt Reuben would, it's unusual for him to resort to such blatant tactics in the first place. A child should be more than a tool."
"Yet you're the one taking him."
"I gave him a choice which is more than you did when you embarked on whatever foolish endeavor led to this. It's not his fault, and I won't let a child be used as a hostage."
How did a Britannian prince know fluent Japanese? And become friends with the son of the Prime Minister.
"You were one," Naoto realized.
"The situation was a little more complicated," he admitted, suddenly subdued.
"Would the Prime Minister have..."
Prince Lelouch soured. "Of that, I have no doubt. He was a prideful man, and his honor would've demanded our death. Now, explain."
Well, he had already sold them out to Ashford... although admitting treason to royalty was more nerve wracking. "I was approached by some former friends of mine because they believed Prince Clovis to be developing poison gas."
"That's not possible."
"What? Don't want to believe your brother is capable of that?" Naoto scoffed. "He ordered the entire ghetto purged or have you forgotten?"
"No, I meant that if he was, he should've filed the paperwork."
Naoto gaped.
"Poison gas is banned," Frederick said slowly.
"From being used, not from development." Prince Lelouch rolled his eyes. "Or do you think we have gas drills because it is entertaining? Let me guess, this 'poison gas' somehow led to Clovis's idiotic response."
"I was no longer affiliated with the group by then," Naoto said hesitantly. "Prince Clovis's royal guard was spotted dumping bodies in the sea."
"First medical equipment... then pretending it's poison gas." Grumbling, Prince Lelouch added, "If you're going to hide something, you can at least fill out the paperwork. This is painfully incompetent."
"Why am I even surprised anymore?" Frederick mumbled.
"Where?" Prince Lelouch demanded.
"Around. I don't know." Naoto's shoulders hunched defensively. He was in such a precarious position. "There was liquid nitrogen. We suspected human experimentation, but we never confirmed. I gave everything I had to Lord Ashford."
From inside his jacket, Prince Lelouch pulled out a folder pensively. "And your associates?"
His gut curdled. "I believe Inoue was captured. She might know more. They never really trusted me anyway."
"I see," Prince Lelouch said slowly. "Would they talk to you again?"
"They'd probably shoot me."
He hummed. "I'm Lamperouge from now on. You will be restricted to the infirmary and your quarters. I expect you to listen to Lieutenant Colonel Tamay. While you undoubtedly have plentiful experience and training, he is in charge. You can consider yourself a civilian contractor for now."
"Lelouch," Frederick interrupted. "You cannot take a child to a military base."
"Why not?"
"Because—" He flailed his hands aimlessly. "You can't. Children are supposed to stay at home. You cannot bring them into the middle of military affairs. It's not safe."
"The base is by far more secure than any civilian house," Prince Lelouch dismissed.
"It's not good for them."
"Odysseus turned out fine." He shrugged. "Schneizel said it was entertaining. And Cornelia stowed away in the luggage when she was seven. Guinevere is far worse than her, and she never set foot on the battlefield."
Frederick shoved past him. "I'm driving."
"I can."
"You don't have a license."
"Which is ridiculous and neither do you."
"I'm older."
Grumbling, Prince Lelouch slid into the backseat as Naoto took the passenger's seat. Half-heartedly, he listened to Oscar babble about whatever caught his eye outside. Prince Lelouch gently encouraged him, never letting a hint of exasperation slip into his voice.
There were hints of the prince he expected, but Naoto begrudgingly admitted that the young soldier who volunteered at the hospital was just as real. The truth lay somewhere in between.
Loud laughter erupted from the backseat, and Naoto glanced at Oscar's wide smile. "He never opened up that much to me."
"Kids tend to like Lelouch. He's patient with them and treats them like adults, but he is terrified that he'll mess up." Frederick checked the mirror and sighed. "Lelouch isn't trying to be cruel. He just sees nothing wrong with it."
"Bringing a kid into a warzone?"
Frederick winced. "I don't think child-appropriate is a phrase anyone in his family has heard. Lord Ashford taught him how to make explosives because Lelouch was bored when he was like six. And never ask for Lelouch's version of playground games. Or to play Monopoly."
"Compound interest is not cheating," Prince Lelouch interrupted.
"Then the game never ends!"
"But if you bankrupt someone immediately, then you lose out on future profits."
"What does that mean?" Oscar asked, tugging on Prince Lelouch's arm.
Flabbergasted, Naoto listened to a surprisingly detailed and understandable answer.
Shinjuku, Area Eleven
In one hand, Suzaku dragged a bag of loot—food, first aid, a change of clothes. In the other, he clutched Ko's wrist. Everyway they turned, they were surrounded by the dead. Suzaku half expected to look back and see Lelouch carrying Nunnally on his back. At least Nunnally had been blind, unable to see the pile of dead bodies; Ko had no such mercy. The excuse that they were just sleeping or pretending had stopped working by the second day.
Thankfully, Ko hadn't asked for his mother again. Suzaku wasn't sure he would be able to bear lying again.
The two of them were completely alone; all of their JLF contacts, presumed dead. They weren't the type to idly stand by while Britannians slaughtered anything that moved. Without a home—because Suzaku couldn't even bear the idea of stepping into their apartment—they drifted through the neighborhoods, each one slowly fortifying themselves. Everyone feared that the Britannians would be back to finish the job.
On the third day, Suzaku found one of his students. Mase had been leaning against the wall, flies buzzing, almost invisible from afar. Suzaku only found him because he was digging through the garbage, looking for scraps of food.
Mercifully, Ko had hung back and been spared the sight of his friend's rotting corpse.
If Suzaku went to the perimeter to claim the offered rations, he could spare himself the trouble. But they took one's name and picture. And if the Britannians discovered the son of the Prime Minister—
By the fourth day, Suzaku's hunger pangs were impossible to ignore, and Ko wouldn't stop crying. A heavy wariness permeated the air; Britannian troops were shifting along the perimeter. Suzaku didn't care. He had one concern—Ko.
"You!" A strong hand grabbed his shoulder, turning him around. "What do you think you're doing, running off!"
Ko.
His palm slammed forward, and he threw the offender over his shoulders before shifting defensively in front of Ko. It wouldn't be the first time desperate looters saw them as easy targets.
Tamaki groaned and staggered to his feet. His lips twisted into an inhumane snarl.
"Nisan?" Ko whimpered.
Tanaki froze. "You have a brother... Where is—"
Thankfully, he cut himself off, and Suzaku narrowed his eyes in silent warning. Tamaki deflated, the anger vanishing without a trace, leaving only the worst kind of pity.
"When was the last time you ate?" he asked.
"I want nothing to do with you," Suzaku answered dully. Inevitably, the price for aid would be too high.
Tamaki knelt and offered Ko a smushed bread roll who grabbed it greedily. Grimacing, he pulled out another. "They're offering food and medical attention at the perimeter. The new soldiers... Some don't look like the Brits. A photo and a name, that's all it takes, and you get more the next day. Most people haven't been going... too scared to try."
"I can't." Suzaku's stomach growled. "If they... Ko needs me."
Not that this was any way for him to grow up in the middle of a city buzzing with flies.
"He does," Tamaki agreed and patted Ko on the head. "Look... I'm sorry. This should've never happened, and Ban was right. You shouldn't have been swept up in it. How old were you when...?"
"Eleven," Suzaku answered.
"We really messed up, didn't we? Needing kids to step up and fight because we were too weak. I'm not the best. I don't really understand what's happening... Why the Brits stopped, or even why they started. I just shoot or punch what people tell me to... But I'm very sorry. Please, let me make up for it. You can get a good meal and a safe place to sleep. You can leave whenever you want and if the others try to stop you, I'll punch them instead."
Looking at Ko's pleading eyes, Suzaku faltered.
"At least we can set you up with some supplies. Is there anyone outside for you? We're trying to figure out how to get messages out. Don't know if it'll work..."
Tohdoh.
Ko should have his father—not a fake brother, who couldn't save anyone.
Their new hideout had a roof, which was about the nicest thing that could be said about it. The floors and walls sported dark, sickening stains. Stacked boxes of supplies strewn around served both as storage and makeshift barricades. The wind whistled through the bullet holes and bellowed on the tarp covering a gaping maw.
Suzaku and Ko received a corner and a hard pallet, along with a questionable blanket. Ignoring the curious eyes, Suzaku spent the day trying to tease a laugh from Ko. At dinner, he gave him half of his rationed rice.
"Hey kid," Ban interrupted quietly as his brother finally slept peacefully. He kneeled beside him and pushed a bowl of rice into his hands. "You can't protect him if you waste away."
Grudgingly, Suzaku ate.
"Given that it's just you two, I guess it didn't go well. If there's anything we can do, just ask."
"My aunt hid him in the dryer." Suzaku slowly scraped out the last of the rice. "I think I hate Britannians."
"Many do."
"It's just... There was no need, no point. It was a sport to them. We weren't even human. I used to..." He cradled his head. "I know some of them are good but how can they just stand by. How? Things were supposed to be better. They can't even justify it as being a damn war of conquest this time. We're part of Britannia now."
Ban enveloped him in a warm hug and muttered sweet consolations as Suzaku finally broke down quietly. How was he supposed to do this? Ko was depending on him; Suzaku could barely look after himself. His presence always led to more death. From when Empress Marianne raged through Tokyo with bloody executions—he could have surrendered, stopping it all. To now, where his home, among hundreds of others, dripped with blood.
"What is this?" Ban asked, lifting up the hem of Suzaku's pants and revealing red swollen ankles. "What the hell did you do to it?"
"Jumped out of a window."
"Fucking hell, kid. Why didn't you tell anyone? You can't walk on this."
Cold fingers peeled up the shirt, and Suzaku stubbornly looked away from the red splashes and burgeoning blisters. "Needed to get away. It doesn't hurt too bad."
"You need a doctor. Come on, up you get." Ban heaved his arm over his shoulder. "Ko will be fine. You won't if an infection sets in." Depositing him on a makeshift hospital bed, Ban pulled out a first aid kit and to his soft hisses began applying burn cream. "What did you mean about a War of Conquest?"
Grateful for the distraction, Suzaku explained the various differences Lelouch had once told him when they were distant concepts. Neither had ever imagined being witness to a War of Conquest. Each had rules, false assurances of safety. When it came to power, Britannia didn't care. Shinjuku was merely one of many casualties. Truro another. Britannia wouldn't hesitate to slaughter their own citizens.
More people filtered into the room, averting their eyes from him or staring unabashedly.
Ban pulled back to start the meeting as various groups checked in and explained how their neighborhoods were doing. The estimated casualty rate kept climbing. Suzaku felt sick listening to the numbers. The only bright side was that it began in the later afternoon, when most had been out for work. They were now on the opposite side of the fence, begging to be let in and see their families.
"Do we have a way out?" Ban asked.
"There are a few routes through the sewers, but they're crammed. You'll need a gas mask as well. The young and elderly won't stand a chance in there."
"And they're the ones we need to evacuate the most." Ban wearily wiped his forehead. "What of the JLF?"
"Anything we send risks interception."
"But they don't speak Japanese," someone else added.
Brian entered the room, staggering under the heavy weight of the box. "The JLF cells are wiped out. They took the brunt of the forces... but they left some weapon caches behind. We don't know if the Brits have anyone speaking Japanese on their end."
"The Honoraries," Ohgi spat. He walked strangely as he meandered to an open seat. His jacket shifted, and Suzaku realized with a start that he was missing his arm. "At least the Brits are being true to their word and providing aid along the border. There's just too many of us for them to deal with."
An elderly man huffed. "And wasn't it your group that got us into this entire mess?"
"Would you have preferred it if that bastard prince gassed the entire ghetto?" Tamaki shouted from the floor. "We were trying to protect you!"
"And a fine job you did of it," a young woman sniped. Her eyes were stone hard without a shred of sympathy. "Tell me, where is the gas now?"
"We can't use the gas," Ban protested. "We need to de-escalate."
"The border is crawling with soldiers. It's only a matter of time before they storm in here again."
Tamaki sighed. "The royal guard retrieved the capsule..."
"So they still have the gas."
"No." Tamaki paused, scratching the back of his neck. "It opened in the truck... But there wasn't anything in there. Just a girl."
The woman scoffed. "A girl?"
"Yeah! A green haired girl. She had a straight jacket on and everything. She wasn't Japanese..." Quieting, he studied his boots. "Then the royal guards came and killed Kento. They didn't see me in the back of the truck, too occupied with capturing the girl."
"Tamaki," Ohgi said slowly. "Did you hit your head? Brit's wouldn't care about a girl."
Tamaki shrugged. "So what if I hit my head? I didn't imagine their blood ruining my favorite boots. It was... I don't know. One of the guards was still alive; he clawed out his eyes."
The expressions turned to pity, yet still disbelieving.
"I'm telling the truth! I swear."
Ban sighed. "Have you gotten medical aid yet?"
"I'm fine! I'm not letting them take me away. It's just a matter of time before the Brits kill us all!"
"He's right," the old man said gravely. "The soldiers have been moving all day. We have to prepare for another strike, for when they try to finish us off."
"No," the woman said coldly. "We need to strike first. If we are all going to die, we should avenge our fallen comrades and family first. We know these streets. We can repair some of those wrecked knightmares and plow through their defensive line. We'll repay them three-fold."
"They won't attack," Suzaku interrupted, surprised by how sure he sounded.
Ohgi sneered. "How would you know? Or does Kururugi-chan have sudden insights into Britannia? It certainly didn't help you in holding off the knightmares."
The other members of the room jolted, while Ban dragged his hand across his face. Someone mumbled that they thought his hair was supposed to be black.
"I would like to see you do better," Suzaku spat. "And that was not your secret to tell. I heard the soldiers talking. The Emperor countermanded Clovis. If they attack without reason again, they will look weak."
"Hey, I heard that too!" Tamaki chimed in. "Bunch of Brits were complaining about it."
"But why would the Emperor give a shit?" Brian asked. "Clovis can do whatever he wants."
"Productivity?" Ban suggested, brow furrowed.
More eyes turned to him expectantly, and Suzaku hunched beneath their expectant stares. He couldn't be Kururugi, the savior they wanted. "I called an old friend... he had the necessary connections."
"You couldn't have done that earlier?" Ohgi snarked. "Do you know how many people died because you waited?"
"It's not the type of call to make lightly." Crossing his arms, Suzaku kept his chin raised. He wouldn't call on Lelouch for anything but a last resort. He had no idea what it cost him to have the order rescinded. "I didn't even know he could help."
"Or maybe your heart is with Britannia," Ohgi challenged. "Just like your cowardly father who couldn't hold on."
Suzaku swallowed. No, his father hadn't been a coward, but as Tohdoh had explained, he had been even worse—a fool. Suzaku glared. "Well, given that a Britannian saved your asses, I think you should maybe show some more respect. You wanted to kill him from what I remembered."
Ban, who had been steadily paling through their exchange, sagged in his seat. "You called Lelouch."
"Wait, the kid?" Brian asked. "How the hell would he have the connections needed to pull this off?"
"His family has connections," Suzaku mumbled. He really needed to watch his words; he wouldn't repay Lelouch by putting his life in danger.
"I thought they looked familiar," Ban mumbled. His voice turned hard with a hint of defeat. "The soldiers won't attack. Chiba-san is right. Britannia wouldn't risk backtracking. If we attack first though... we will lose."
"You know something," the woman said coolly.
"If the Emperor interfered, he would have sent forces loyal to him to ensure his orders were seen through. That would explain the troop shuffling we're seeing."
The old man stroked his chin. "The troops don't look like normal Brits."
"They're Honoraries." The woman waved her hand dismissively. "They already betrayed their country; why would they even hesitate to betray basic decency?"
Brian scowled and leaned forward. "Take care not to insult your allies. We need supplies. We need ways to cremate the dead and observe proper rights. We need some form of coordination. If they are willing to listen, we must take the opportunity. We are all here because we have an obligation to our people. You must set aside your pride for their interests. And yes, that means working with Honoraries... such as myself. Or do you think the Brits cared about distinguishing those who lived here?"
"One of the Brit doctors who used to come here was killed as well," Ban added softly. "The Honoraries and poorer Brits were some of the first to die because they lived on the outskirts."
"We shall wait and see," the old man agreed. "No one truly wants to fight anyway—"
"Speak for yourself." The woman crossed her arms. "They took everything from us, and just as we were beginning to rebuild and regain our sense of normalcy, they stole it from us again."
"Endless revenge cannot be the way," the old man interjected. "I understand your frustrations, but we're surrounded. We can fight as much as we want, but the only way out will be through negotiations. They will undoubtedly be expecting us to attack anyway."
"The remnants of the Blood of the Samurai definitely are," Brian mumbled. "Arrogant cowards."
The woman huffed. "And you will hold your supplies hostage unless I agree."
Ban nodded.
"After they run out, whatever loyalty these groups have to you will be gone to the wind. You never planned on a catastrophe of this size." She stood primly, exuding a high class bearing. Her hard gaze stopped on Suzaku. "Kururugi? My people say you held Gottwald at bay. For that, you have my gratitude, even if you are failing Japan by staying in the shadows."
"If his name surfaces," Ban warned, "we will have a swarm of OSI agents descending on us. Britannia does not care for us; we're mere pests below her notice. But he is a symbol, and we do not have the resources to defend him."
"Then contact the JLF," she challenged. "They are the true defenders of Japan, not this conniving operation you manage here. I will side with them, even if you are the only one to have supplies."
She bowed lightly and left without a hint of weakness. The old man said his thanks as well before hurrying after her and calling her name. Meanwhile, Ohgi clenched his eyes and gingerly poked at the remnants of his arm. "I apologize for my brusqueness... Without your help, Ban, we would have never held out for that long."
"It won't work again," Ban warned. "The enemy commander was astonishingly incompetent."
Suzaku rose unsteadily and stumbled back to his little corner where Ko continued to sleep peacefully. Ban stopped by a few minutes later, pressing a hot mug of green tea into his hands.
"Does the number still work?" he asked.
"I don't know."
Ban raised his eyebrows.
"No," Suzaku said firmly.
"Fine. Don't call again unless it's an emergency. It will probably be tracked. As for your friend..."
"I won't let you hurt him," Suzaku growled. Even if he wanted to strike at Britannia himself, Lelouch and Nunnally were off limits.
"No. I won't." Ban rested a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever happens, you made the right call."
712th Division Forward Base, Area Eleven
At the heavily fortified military base on the outskirts of Tokyo, armed guards waved them through the gate. Naoto examined the area curiously as nausea threatened to incapacitate him. Behind him, Oscar was utterly enthralled with his face pressed against the windows.
Prince Lelouch accepted a jacket from Frederick and opened the door. A wave of jumbled sound washed over him, and Naoto gaped at the bustling activity around him. Not all of the soldiers looked pleased nor were their uniforms perfectly maintained like Clovis's men, but they all walked with undeniable pride in their steps. Within the cacophony of garbled shouts, foreign words floated freely. There were Numbers among them.
"Scared," Oscar whined and clung not to Naoto's leg, but Prince Lelouch's.
Prince Lelouch leaned down and picked him with an elaborate swing. "Hmm... But they do whatever I tell them to."
"Really?"
He set him on the ground and with a few large steps, stopped before a small pack of soldiers. "Attention!"
The soldiers clicked their heels together immediately with an enthusiastic shout. His skin prickled at the curious eyes drifting to him. Oscar tugged his pant leg. "I want to be like him."
Great. Where before Oscar was obsessed with being Japanese as possible, he now wanted to be a Britannian Prince.
"Walker, was it?" an older man interrupted in a thick accent. He raised an eyebrow at Oscar, warping the old burn scar on his face.
"Yes... sir?"
"Lieutenant Colonel Tamay." He extended his hand pridefully. "Lamperouge said you had formal training and worked at the Tokyo Memorial Hospital."
"Yes, sir." Naoto paused. The man before him was a Number; his accent was all wrong. But he introduced himself as an officer. "May I ask—"
"The division is primarily composed of Numbers." Tamay's eyes narrowed. "Will that be a problem?"
"Not at all," Naoto said quickly and rubbed the back of his head. "It would be hypocritical of me. I got lucky with my father being Britannian. Pr—Um, Le—Lamperouge mentioned translation as well?"
"The General always has the most interesting of friends," Tamay murmured, his gaze drifting to Prince Lelouch talking animatedly with another man. "I have a few patients who don't speak English. Lamperouge has been translating when he has time, but he is rather preoccupied. Art will most likely try to poach you as well. Just check in with me before you leave. We will see what you can do tomorrow. I hope blood doesn't make you squeamish."
"Thank you."
Tamay snapped to attention. "Sir."
"At ease." Prince Lelouch looked between the two before finally nodding. "Have you determined arrangements? Good. Do you have everything you need? Anything of significance you wish to mention?"
"We're running low on gloves and linen. I simply have too many patients, and most only seek help for significant injuries once they have become infected. There was mention of some group helping treat people within the ghettos... and of a Britannian doctor."
"Karl," Naoto breathed.
"He's dead. Some of the Brit troops have been looting and desecrating the bodies brought to the perimeter, so they want to ensure he is offered what dignity is possible."
Prince Lelouch sighed. "I'll talk to Art. See if one of your patients is willing to set up a meeting with this group. It will be more effective to coordinate within. And... Make sure to take care of yourself as well."
"Yes, sir."
Naoto watched him leave silently and let Prince Lelouch lead him to his quarters. Along the way, Frederick vanished. Not that Naoto could ever do anything to his charge when surrounded by soldiers from all sides.
A familiar face greeted him halfway through, and they both froze.
"Stadtfeld," Prince Lelouch greeted, a hint of mocking condescension in his voice and so different from the subtle warmth he had greeted everyone prior.
What had his sister done? Why was she here? Prince Lelouch didn't need Oscar as a hostage; Naoto was the hostage who nobody would blink twice at.
With visible difficulties, she snapped to attention. "Afternoon, sir."
"Do you want a moment to connect with your brothers?"
She paused, bristling with obvious anger. "They are not my brothers." Naoto frowned at the rippling terror beneath her words. "Sir."
With that attitude, Naoto would be hard pressed to catch a minute alone with her and warn her that her commander was actually royalty. Or at least he hoped that she wasn't knowingly taking that tone with a prince.
"Dismissed then," Prince Lelouch said and watched her leave with a frown tugging at his lips. "Did you have a fight?"
"She's never been happy to see me really," Naoto admitted. "She always ends up pushing me away, and I can't really meet her without risking a scandal."
Prince Lelouch hummed. "Well, now that is hardly a worry. I think she is trying to protect you?"
What? But Naoto was her older brother. What could he possibly even need protection from where distance helped?
"How does inheritance in your family work?"
"The extended family deliberates and decides together, but it has to be someone from the mainline... Only way to pick someone else would be to disinherit the main branch."
"In two years time, your sister will be a Knight of the Round," Prince Lelouch said slowly. "Your family will need to choose between yourself and Oscar."
"No, she can't—" Naoto winced. Anyone would be delighted for their family to be honored as such, but all he could think of was the Emperor being near his young sister. "How can you be sure?"
"She is already challenging a current Knight of the Round. She will only improve from there." Pausing, Prince Lelouch rested a hand on his shoulder. "There are possible alternatives, but all of them will remove her from the line of succession. Even with the inevitable scandal, your family will be forced to reclaim you. It is better to strike first before they decide that Oscar is a better candidate to mold into their ideal heir."
"I'm a doctor—"
"You're also a noble; it's your birthright." He chuckled and handed him a keycard before a nondescript door. "The court will be frothing. Should you head down this path, you will have my backing."
Naoto stepped inside the spartan room. While less comfortable than the quarters in the Ashford Labs, at least he could help those who needed it. He merely needed to bow to a Britannian prince and bear the knowledge that Oscar was now trapped in the middle of a military base.
"I will think about it."
Once the door slid shut, Naoto dropped his bags and collapsed against the wall. His sister was here. He really had no hope but to accept the offer and cultivate a friendship with Prin—Lelouch. And with Frederick. His every instinct screamed that Kallen was in trouble, and Pri—Lelouch didn't like her. He wouldn't save her, but perhaps he would as a favor to Naoto or his guard.
"Were you playing pretend again?" Oscar asked.
"I don't know," Naoto whispered.
Oscar grinned. "It was fun!" His shoulders fell, and he studied his fidgeting feet. "I do like Lelouch... Even if he is a Brit."
"Isn't he scary?"
"Yes... But like Mommy when she's shouting at the bullies for being mean to me. And he knows so many things. And Japanese. Is he really a Brit?"
"Yes, he is, but so are we."
Now that Lelouch had presented the path to him, there was no option but to take it. He could protect Kallen and Oscar this way. The backing of a prince would pave the way for him. For all that Prince Lelouch was an unknown now, he wielded considerable power judging by the respect of the men around him. He was also the son of the Emperor's favored wife. That had to count for something.
Naoto chuckled. At least, the look on his grandmother's face when he claimed the role as the official heir would be worth it.
1821 Clovis St., Tokyo, Area Eleven
Standing before the servant's door donning the mask of his prince persona felt distinctly wrong, especially considering what Clovis had ordered eight days prior. Yet Lelouch had found the courage to wash the hair dye out and drag himself before Kaguya's side door. A cloak covered his head and gave him a modicum of privacy. Frederick stood a few paces back, ever dutiful in his role as a guard.
He leaned against the wall and sent a quick text to tell her of his arrival. If she wasn't there like Art said—supposedly, she had withdrawn from social life somewhat to focus on the company—he wasn't quite sure what he would do. He couldn't kneel before Suzaku and apologize. Well, he shouldn't do that with Kaguya either. A prince only knelt for the Emperor.
Lelouch snorted and adjusted the bag at his side.
The door opened, and Kaguya peeked through. Her mask was bare thin, enough to fool most, but Lelouch saw the quiver in her brow. The heavier concealer beneath her eyes, inevitably hiding dark and worried bags. The slight smudge of lipstick on her teeth from sucking on her lips.
"I'm so, so sorry," he said and stepped inside.
Frederick closed the door behind them, and she squeezed her eyes shut in a valiant effort. With a subtle sign, he asked Frederick to wait. There was a moment of hesitation, but he nodded and signed for him to go no further than the next room. People did strange things when they were in shock.
"They were laughing," Kaguya whispered once they were alone.
Suzaku had been sobbing while someone screamed in the background.
"I know," Lelouch said. He grabbed her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. A friend to another; two people who truly understood what was happening. He had to be strong before his officers, but now? He let the illusion shatter. "When I heard... I kept imagining the invasion over and over again. How they would—"
"Pile the bodies," Kaguya answered. Her shoulders trembled, and she buried her head into his chest, fingers digging into his silk shirt. "I just... I want to change things, Lelouch. I want my people to have a better life, but how am I supposed to do that when they laugh!"
"I don't know." Rubbing circles across her back, he grit his teeth. How was he supposed to save people with an army? So many had just stood by as destruction reigned around them. "You'll find a way; I know you will."
"Why?" she sobbed. "Why, Lelouch? What purpose does it serve? It is senseless."
His voice cracked. "I don't know."
She clung to him harder, and he guided her to the armchair. There was nothing to be said, no explanation to give. What Clovis had done was beyond justification.
"At least two thousand dead," Lelouch whispered and released a broken sob. "They won't have a proper count of the casualties for a while, but all those people... I don't know what to do."
Sinking into the armchair, Kaguya looked at him regretfully, her green eyes watered with unshed tears. She snatched his hand as he leaned back to restore the proper distance propriety demanded. "Please."
Lelouch let himself be tugged beside her. She curled up against him, trapping him in the chair. Taking solace in her warm presence, he relaxed and let her sift her hands through his hair.
After a long quiet moment, she asked, "Would you ever do such a thing if your father ordered?"
"I don't know," Lelouch answered truthfully. He couldn't, not when he didn't know the price for disobedience. He would protest for sure; he would carry it out with no glee. But unless he could say he was willing to lead a coup against his father, he couldn't say no. "If I oppose him, more people could be hurt. Within Britannia though... I would not. I have a duty to all who live here, not just to Britannians. I doubt my father would though. He is rather displeased."
"Him publicly countermanding the viceroy made that obvious," Kaguya muttered. She rested her head against his shoulder. "Do you know what the worst part was?"
"No?"
"I laughed with them. I didn't have to. I keep wondering if I had said something... Sumeragi Industries is the second largest company within Tokyo now. Maybe, I could have pressured Clovis to stop. At least Lord Ashford tried, and with both of us together, we might have been successful." She inhaled sharply and rubbed her eyes with his shirt. "But I didn't so I would be just like them."
Lelouch twisted his head and grabbed her wrist. "Never be upset at doing what you need to survive. Never. Do you understand?"
She bit her lip.
"As long as you're alive, there's still a chance. Please, do whatever is necessary. I can't lose you." He swallowed. "You're the only one who understands what it's like to constantly be pretending... I don't even know who I am anymore."
"That's what I'm afraid of. What if the real Kaguya is actually the mask? All of this is merely because a part of me knows I should be upset, but it isn't actually real." She borrowed her head into his chest again. "I laughed with them. We laughed, and they died. How can I even say they're my people?"
"Please... Promise me that you will do whatever is necessary to survive."
She hiccupped, startling a laugh from them both. "And if you're the one in the way?"
"Then kill me," he ordered. Wincing, he glanced at the closed door. "Please never tell anyone I said that. I will never be allowed near you again."
She chuckled. "Only if you promise the same. I trust you to at least try to change Britannia, and so if that is what it will take..."
"Your birthday present seems rather morbid now," he mumbled. Leaning over the side of the armchair, he groped for the bag and pulled out a polished wooden box. "Happy birthday. I can make lunch for you as well."
Long, elegant, painted white fingernails scraped over the box, and she flipped open the clasp. From within, she drew a pair of throwing knives and two long hairpins: one with a jewel encrusted dragon at the end; the other, a vermillion bird with the neck of a snake caught in mid-flight. She flipped the knife over in her hands with practiced ease, testing the weight. Her finger tested the tip of the hairpin, rewarding her with a miniscule drop of ruby.
She pulled out the second hair pin and examined it carefully. "You really shouldn't have. I can't wear these."
Lelouch snorted. "The dragon perhaps not, but I doubt anyone will understand the significance of the other. If anyone objects, you can tell them that it is a gift from me, then it would be practically rude not to wear it."
"But you do know what it means. You gave me a Suzaku." She vibrated in amusement. "It was a rather presumptuous name to give a child, come to think of it. Still, why?"
Lelouch shrugged. "You deserve to have a piece of your culture to carry with you. Something they cannot take away from you. Take care of him."
"I thought you had budget problems?" she whispered, gently scratching the golden inlays.
"Apparently... my siblings ask for a raise each year." Lelouch shuddered in disgust. "I do have to pay some staff now, but I still have more funds than I know what to do with. It was easy enough to challenge a few nobles to a game of chess and quadruple a reasonable starting bid."
"Which you then use to buy a girl jewel encrusted weapons."
"A friend says gifts of sweets and other savory items have seductive undertones." Lelouch scrunched his nose. "Clothes would have been too personal, and I am not an art connoisseur. Knives are at least useful. And if my means have expanded, then my gifts should reflect that."
Kaguya gave him a measured look and closed the box, the bird hair pin laying in her lap. "You are surprisingly bad at this, but I appreciate the gesture in the way it was intended. Thank you, Lelouch. Really."
"I know it changes nothing, but maybe you can find a bit of happiness."
She staggered to her feet and briefly left the room. Returning with a comb, she sat next to him again and began brushing out her long ebony hair. "Do you think Britannia can change?" she whispered. "If the Emperor ordered all Numbers equal tomorrow, would it even matter when they laugh at hearing of their death?"
His heart burned. "It has to. People can change at least, and if they can, why not an Empire?"
She set down the comb, hanging her head, and her hair obscured her face like a silk curtain. "Who will we be by then, Lelouch?"
"As long as you survive, does it matter?" He accepted the hairpin and began to weave her hair like he used to for Nunnally. "If the Emperor changed the law, eventually it wouldn't matter that people laugh now. The Numbers would still be better off. The fight is simply never finished."
"And so I will laugh, banking on future success to justify my past." She faced him, eyes smudged and pleading. "Don't let me lose sight of my way."
"You'll always carry Japan in your heart," Lelouch assured her. He stood and offered her a helping hand. "How about some lunch?"
"Let me just... fix my face."
The kitchen was well equipped with everything necessary for Britannian style cooking. Among more decorative items, he found the bamboo steamers. Gyoza. How long since either of them had it? He made the dough first and set it aside. Using the traditional Japanese knife he found, he prepped the fish. The pork remained untouched in the fridge; neither of them would be too keen on the smell with the endless cremenations occuring in Shinjuku.
Kaguya entered partway through and leaned against the counter to watch him work. He cut aside chunks of dough and shoved the roller at her. Chuckling, she set to work in comfortable silence.
"How are you doing?" Kaguya asked as they began to pleat the dough around the filling. He passed her some slices of carrots to help avoid it sticking to the steamer. "You look exhausted."
"Just busy," he whispered. With watching the smoke curl into the sky, smelling the rotting stench of infection in their infirmary, listening to the angry shouts from all sides—Brits, Numbers, his own men. No one was pleased. "It hasn't been pleasant."
"Did your father order you to do something?"
"No, I asked." At her expectant silence, he added, "I can't talk about it."
"Half an hour ago, I was sobbing into your shirt."
He flinched. Her mask had been completely discarded. She trusted him to not use the information against her, but he could ruin her.
"Bottling up emotions makes them worse." Her doughy hands reached up to grab his shoulder. "Do you not trust me?"
"It's not that—" He took a rattling breath.
"Do you regret asking?"
"No." He stacked the last steamer in the pile and turned on the pan. "Even knowing everything... I would do it again. There are some things I simply cannot tell you for your own safety."
She hummed, but her disappointment was palpable. He needed to offer something to even the scales, otherwise, she would never open up to him again. It couldn't relate to Zero. His father was hoarding that secret particularly tightly, and were she to know, she would feel obligated to contact those hypothetical JLF contacts.
With Zero out of the picture, that also ruled out his experiences in the division. He didn't feel particularly inclined to dig at the scab of his relationship with his parents. Nor could he explain the strange dynamic with Pablo and executing a man. For all that Kaguya adjusted well to Britannian life, he doubted that she would be accepting of him killing traitors.
He groaned and glared at the marble counter as if it could give him all the answers. Vulnerability, that was what Kaguya wanted. His fingers curled inwards.
"Lelouch, you don't have to." Her touch ghosted over his shoulders.
"Yes, I do. It's only fair." He dug his hands into the dough. Hunching over the counter as he kneaded, he let one secret slip. A real one. "I hate Refrain."
"So do many nobles. A drug for the weak minded, they say."
"Because someone gave it to me." He rushed to explain before he lost his courage. "Except it wasn't the normal strain that is on the streets. Normally, people see things that make them happy. I saw the invasion of Japan... again and again. I saw people dying, memories that I suppressed. The entire time, I was at someone else's mercy, completely unable to defend myself. I was in the hospital for days afterwards... I barely remember any of it; I couldn't breathe."
"Hey," she whispered, and he relaxed into her hug. He wasn't alone; there was someone else; she wouldn't hurt him.
"It's not fair. Sometimes, I want to take a dose because others see happiness. They get to recall all those wonderful memories stolen by the time." He shuddered and swallowed a sob. "After everything, I couldn't even get that comfort. I want to see Suzaku again, laugh with him. I want to see my mother through childish eyes. Except all I see are the dead, asking why I didn't do more. Why did they have to die, while I lived? I've had more nightmares than I can count this year, while the good dreams? I can count those on one hand."
Her arms tightened protectively. "You're here, and I'm for one glad that you are alive. Refrain never brings real happiness. Memories are nothing but illusions of the past; they rarely reflect reality accurately. There is no happiness to be found in them, only in the hope for the future."
"Sometimes, I'm still in that room," Lelouch admitted, the truth on his breath. The Count stood across from him with a wicked smile. He was nothing before her, all alone. His skin burned as scalding water dripped down his face. Nobody was ever coming. He would die all alone, and his friends would fall to his mother's wrath for failing to save him.
Except Kaguya was there, holding him. "Was that why you missed your birthday?"
He nodded shakily, not trusting himself to speak.
"Did you ever talk to anyone about it?"
"No, not really," he whispered. Art didn't count; he had been there. They barely discussed it because Lelouch would rather not, and Art didn't press. In return, Lelouch never asked about Oliver, the Count, or his stay with the OSI. Both of them left with scars not easily seen. "It was an ordeal, but I got through it. Dredging it up again does no one any good."
"I never did ask about your scars." She stepped away to take the steamers off the pan and set down a new stack before returning to his side. "Please tell me you at least told your parents."
"They read through my medical file," he dismissed.
"Lelouch... Either you had an extremely rare adverse reaction to Refrain, or someone deliberately tortured you," she hissed.
He flinched at the word. "I'm fine. The OSI tortures people; that wasn't it." His bones weren't broken, his fingernails were intact, he had barely even bled. The only scars he took away were on his wrists and ankles; those were easy enough to cover up. "I'm fine."
Her lips thinned as if she was going to argue more. She pulled him in instead for a tight hug. "Tell me they're dead."
"The one ultimately responsible."
"So no... That wasn't all that happened, was it?"
He hated that pitying look. "Someone got lucky and caught me with my guard down. I went to the hospital right after. You don't have to worry. Besides, it was years ago."
Hesitantly, she withdrew. "Thank you for trusting me... Lelouch."
He was already regretting it. He could see the headlines now as his story made the front page. The papers would eat it up and add extra embellishments. Royals weren't to be harmed; he had been. Of course Kaguya would never do that, just like he wouldn't levy accusations of treason against her.
The possibility itched in the back of his head. Why had he told?
His hand caught hers as she moved to grab some dough. He slipped into Japanese, barely audible. "You need to lie low. Intelligence is crawling all over Tokyo."
"Lelouch, I'm not—"
"You know who to pass it on to. The ghetto will be fine, and the commander is happy to leave them be if they don't interfere. But if the situation changes, it won't be a humanitarian operation anymore."
She pursed her lips and nodded stiffly. "Who?"
"My father sent him for Clovis. Let it remain that way."
"Do you know who will replace him?" she asked in English.
"He has been grumbling about finding a replacement for years. I doubt the lack of candidates has changed."
Eyeing him speculatively, she set aside her gyoza. "You're old enough."
The delicate dough broke in his hands. "Father thinks I am compromised in matters regarding Japan."
She hummed absently.
At Frederick's raised voice in the foyer, they paused, and their masks slid back on as if they had never dropped. They had far exceeded their yearly quota of honesty.
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- In Japanese Suzaku is a name for the vermillion bird, similar to a phoenix. It is often mistaken for the Fenghuang, the Chinese version of a phoenix which is frequently paired with the dragon. There were two Emperors named Suzaku, the first of which ascended the throne at 8 yrs old. He also died the day he became a monk. Wikipedia claims that happens as well to Emperor Go-Suzaku which is really tempting me to go down the rabbit hole further. In a happy coincidence, there is also a Chiba Shūsaku who was called a Kensei (sword saint).
- I apparently never made a note about hair pins and hat pins being used as self-defense weapons. The latter was legislated against in the US with limits on length and requiring covers as to not accidentally stab people. For example, in 1910 the Chicago City Council was among the first cities to ban hat pins longer than nine inches
Author's Note:
Apology for the delay. Holidays are chaotic. While I intend to return to an every 2 weeks schedule, the days might be a little erratic until things settle down in a more predictable patterns. I also apologize for not replying to any PMs or reviews/comments as of late. I'll get to them soon-ish.
Thank you Dark, Jarod, and Nektry for your beta work. :)
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj