Much of Gene Smilas's history is mired in controversy, but he was undoubtedly a brilliant mind and lay the foundation of the world as we know it. He came from humble roots and, at age nineteen, earned a spot at the École spéciale militaire de Saint-Cyr. Despite graduating at the top of his class, he didn't have the family connections necessary to advance his career and fell into obscurity until the Battle of Plage Eclair where he saved his platoon against a surprise attack from Marianne the Flash. Upon his return, he was regaled as a war hero and quickly rose through the military ranks.
-La biographie du Général Smilas
Neutral District, Australia
Alone, Lelouch waited in the lavish stateroom, furnished in the rococo style, as he wondered why his father had summoned him. On the small stone table before him, a cold cup of tea waited. Since accepting his role as Zero, an agent of the Emperor, three years ago, his father had never sent a formal summons. Messages were either sent through Henry, or more frequently, by phone. But this time, the situation was different.
The summons had arrived by mail and requested his presence at the Britannian Embassy in Australia to meet with the Emperor. He had quickly burnt the letter and called his mother in hope of it being a ploy. It wasn't and his mother refused to say anything more on the matter.
Lelouch ran his hand through his bleached hair again and checked his watch. Three hours had passed. Had he failed? Displeased his father in some way? What would he do to Nunnally?
His breath stuttered as his lungs battled the sudden paralysis. Now was not the time for this. Well, it was never the time. Normally Frederick or Henry would notice something amiss and anchor him back in reality. But he had sent Frederick on a frivolous shopping expedition, intent on keeping his friend away from the scrutiny of his family. Three years under Henry and Lelouch's tutelage could only teach Frederick so much as how to act like a proper royal guard.
Lelouch wasn't sure whether he was relieved that his father's guards had requested Henry to wait outside. On the one hand, whenever Henry met his father he would return different. Colder. Fanatic. It took months for things to return to a normal rhythm, then the Emperor would call, and the cycle would begin again. Despite Lelouch's best efforts, he could never ascertain what his father would say to elicit such a drastic personality change. At least today, he wouldn't have a stranger return to guard his side.
On the other hand, Lelouch couldn't show weakness. Not now. And despite Henry's flaws, he was dependable.
An unspeakable held the door open, indicating he was expected. Lelouch took a deep breath and tried to bury his unease. The unspeakable nodded as he approached and Lelouch's heart battered. With the exception of Henry, the unspeakables never responded to someone besides the Emperor. They were impassive unless ordered otherwise or responding to a threat.
The door shut, locking him in the lion's den.
Eyes trained on the floor, Lelouch knelt respectfully. Responding to an official summon was not the time to disrespect his father. At least, unlike the throne room in Pendragon, the floor was carpeted. The Australians, for all their accommodations, wouldn't build an official throne room for a foreign Emperor. That act would shred the veneer of neutrality they clung to.
"You may rise, Lelouch," his father said as he seated himself across from him.
Lelouch stood, the armchairs to his side tempting him, but he wasn't a fool. He stood straight and kept his eyes respectfully lowered. "Have I displeased you, Your Majesty?"
"Have you given me a reason to be?" his father asked, his voice deceptively calm.
"I strive to fulfill your mandate," Lelouch answered, sidestepping the treacherous question. There was no right answer.
"And you have. Every task I set forth, you completed satisfactorily."
Lelouch forced his body to relax. Satisfactorily. Or rather the bare minimum. And Lelouch could not contest it because, while he followed order to the letter, he didn't follow their spirit. And he was being called out on it.
The Emperor rose and walked to the window overlooking the inner courtyard. "Have you given thought as to what role Nunnally will claim at the end of the year?"
"She's happy at Ashford's," Lelouch protested. "I will endeavor to do better."
"So you haven't? You're much like Cornelia, shielding your younger sibling. Although unlike Nunnally, Euphemia is already sixteen, well past the age of being coddled. We will see." He walked back to Lelouch, handing him a photo. "Have you heard any rumors of this woman? She likes to go by the name C.C."
Lelouch gingerly took the photo of the woman with flowing green hair, standing next to his mother, and eating a slice of pizza. The name reminded him of his recovery in the hospital and his father's order to forget V.V.
"Unfortunately, I haven't. The OSI would be better equipped to find a missing person."
"They failed to notice her disappearance or ascertain her location. Your counterintelligence operations may catch wind of her. If so, inform me immediately and do not let her become public knowledge. Check pizzerias. She will do almost anything for pizza."
Lelouch nodded and returned the photo. "And if I do find her?"
"Either she turned traitor, in which case, you are to capture her alive and immediately return her to Pendragon. Exterminate any allies she might have found. Or she has been captured and you will free her and execute her captors."
"If her captors..."
"Regardless of class. If anyone objects, inform them that it is a direct order from myself."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lelouch answered as he digested the power he had been granted. The secrecy around the target was staggering and he worried that his division was being used as disposables. If her captors or allies were guaranteed a death sentence, then what did that mean for the Numbers who interacted with her? Or even himself who would know too much?
"This matter will remain secret, even from your royal guards. Understood?"
"Of course, Your Majesty."
"Walk with me," his father ordered as he led him outside. "The official reason as to why I have summoned you is to grant you a seat in the negotiating room with the E.U. At seventeen, you can no longer hide in the shadows."
Lelouch simply nodded. His spoiled act could only hold off suspicion for so long. Every royal child was expected to have their hand in some productive endeavor and his flimsy cover of selling furniture wouldn't hold much longer. If he did nothing public, then he would invite scrutiny as to why. The moment he stepped out the shadows, the life he had built would slip through his fingers. Time was running out.
"Your presence should encourage Schneizel and Guinevere to cease stalling." Ahead, an unspeakable opened the door to another stateroom where his two older siblings respectfully rose from their seats. "Guinevere, Schneizel. I trust you will set your best example to teach your younger brother the art of negotiations."
Guinevere curtsied. "Of course, Father. It would be an honor."
His father nodded and left. The second the door shut, Guinevere's earnest expression evaporated, replaced with a derisive sneer. "Let's go. It's uncouth to keep others waiting."
Schneizel shook his head and settled a hand on Lelouch's shoulder as they followed her. "Don't take her attitude personally, Lelouch. She's been in a foul mood since Father turned down her request for an increased allowance. Warm weather in February. Unimaginable, isn't it? Is Australia to your liking?"
"Not really, honestly. I found a snake in the toilet this morning. If that's indicative of the rest of the country's temperament, I can see why they remain independent," Lelouch answered as he pondered his brother's words. Guinevere had lost favor with his father. Every year, she requested an increased allowance, and every year he acquiesced at a fraction of what she requested. But this year, nothing.
Guinevere huffed. "You would be right at home with these half-bloods. They're weak because they mixed commoner and royal blood."
"Sister!" Schneizel protested. "Might I remind you we're supposed to verbally spar with the E.U. gentleman, not amongst ourselves."
"As long as he remembers his place, nothing will happen. He's an embarrassment to the family, but he can't hide forever, so Father gave him to us to contain the fallout."
Lelouch held his silence. This was nothing new and if his elder sister thought he was eight once more who could be easily riled with a few insults, she was mistaken.
"We will present a united front," Schneizel said firmly. "If you insist on this ridiculous quarrel, I will not let it affect the negotiations."
"And if you had done your job properly," Guinevere shot back, "then I would be enjoying a calming bath at home instead of traveling to this miserable country. Your job was to ensure the traitors would return home and face justice. Zero even gifted you with E.U. prisoners to arrange an exchange. Yet, half of the traitors still haven't faced justice so Father insists I should help you and refuses to increase my stipend. I missed the last two fashion festivals because of you. And Bedivere's birthday." With her last declaration, she stormed ahead.
"The Greenford boy, really?" Schneizel groaned. "My apologies, Lelouch. You aren't the only one to clash with our sister's magnanimous personality. Unfortunately, she is right. Father is losing his patience so please just watch and listen. We can discuss the meeting afterwards."
Guinever waited in front of a nondescript door and they entered together, unified. The room wasn't part of either the Britannian or E.U. embassy, instead located in a small office building in-between. Lelouch's lips quirked at how uncomfortable his two siblings looked surrounded by plastic chairs and in front of a cheap white desk marred with scratches.
In contrast, the two E.U. representatives looked at ease. The elder, wearing a freshly pressed military uniform and array of badges under his left collar, rose and extended a hand in greeting. His two siblings ignored it, instead seating themselves across from him with a scowl. The man's companion, a young girl in her own uniform, glared at them fiercely.
Before the E.U. representative could withdraw his hand, Lelouch stepped forward and shook it firmly. "Lelouch vi Britannia. It is a pleasure to meet you. I will only be observing today."
"General Smilas. I lost to your mother once."
"So have I," Lelouch said, dispersing the rising tension. "Although probably not in the same context."
General Smilas laughed and pulled out his seat. "My apologies for the accommodations. After our last, shall we say, vocal disagreement, the locals asked for us to move somewhere less disruptive. I hope the accommodations are acceptable." His smile wished the opposite and left no doubt who had chosen the room. "I also brought along my adjutant, Leila Malcal, so she may learn about negotiations. For our young onlookers, let's make sure to be civil?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way," Schneizel replied easily, as Guinevere visibly bristled by his side.
Thus, the painfully long negotiations began. At the first hour mark, Lelouch caught the eye of the blond girl sitting across from him, seemingly just as flabbergasted at the ease with which underhanded insults and backhanded compliments flew between technical details regarding extradition. General Smilas returned or deflected each barb with a calm smile as Guinevere and Schneizel continued their verbal assaults. Despite her dour personality, Guinevere had grown up in court and was a master of word games. Similarly, Lelouch was used to seeing Schneizel weave through his opponents before they even realized what he had done.
General Smilas's fortitude was impressive, especially for having sat across the negotiation table for so long. On the other hand, it was abundantly clear why so little progress had been achieved. Both sides were more eager to claim a meaningless victory than reach an agreement. So when Schneizel suggested a break, it was unsurprising that no progress had been made although a page of garbled and crossed out notes rested on the table.
Lelouch sat silently as his siblings left and the two E.U. officers pulled out flasks and a prepackaged meal. His siblings didn't wish him to interfere, yet his father wanted the negotiations brought to a conclusion. He had said Lelouch's performance was satisfactory. Suggested that Nunnally would need to become of use. Euphie was only granted so much freedom because her sister held his father's favor for her victories in Africa. The bare minimum was perhaps enough to protect himself, but not his sister.
He would have to do more. Push himself even further. Failure was never an option and this was just another task his father had set for him despite lacking clear objectives. So he would have to succeed where his siblings could not and preferably before his absence from the division became too long.
"You're not eating, Your Highness?" General Smilas asked, setting down his food. "There is plenty of time to grab a meal. Or at least a drink of water."
His stomach twisted uncomfortably at how vulnerable the kitchens were. "I had a large breakfast"-he had barely drunk a glass of milk, too nervous about the upcoming meeting with his father-"and seeing that I've hardly spoken, I don't need anything to drink."
"I could sure use one," General Smilas muttered. "And what have you learned, Your Highness, from watching us negotiate?"
"It's similar to a married couple's bickering," he answered dryly.
Adjutant Malcal snorted some water. Between her coughs, she choked out, "There is a familiar resemblance."
Taking a risk, Lelouch said, "Perhaps you should propose, General. You're halfway there already and it would resolve your dilemma."
General Smilas glared at his subordinate who grinned unabashedly. "Apparently kids are the same wherever you go as well."
"I'm most certainly not like some Britannian prince, General," she shot back, crossing her arms.
"You're both cracking jokes," he replied. "But I must say, I'm surprised at your presence, Your Highness. From what I hear, you tend to be surprisingly reclusive, considering who your mother is."
Watching Adjutant Malcal grow more serious, Lelouch wondered what her connection to his mother was. Twice now, the general had mentioned her, almost like a warning. Still, he kept his body relaxed and answered, "I would be happy to not be here, but apparently it's not proper for me to hide all the time. What about yourself, Adjutant Malcal? That's an important position, isn't it?"
She stiffened and didn't say a word.
"My apologies, I didn't mean to offend," Lelouch said quickly. If his siblings were playing hardball without success, then he needed to try the soft approach. It worked wonders when gathering information or interrogating suspects despite being painfully slow.
"None taken," General Smilas reassured. "Just a sensitive subject. Leila's parents died when she was young and she has been my protegee ever since."
"My condolences," Lelouch murmured. It would just be his luck if her parents died fighting his mother.
The door opened, ending any further conversation, and his siblings sat down in front of the table, resuming the negotiations. As the sun began to set, their meeting finally concluded and they watched General Smilas and Adjutant Malcal leave without a word. Nothing had been accomplished today.
"I hope this was enlightening, Lelouch. Guinevere and I have it handled as you can see. Perhaps you could try your hand at negotiations to secure a better room?" Schneizel asked, smiling genially.
"Don't worry. I will be here tomorrow," Lelouch said and Guinevere scowled. "After all, the Emperor personally insisted that I attend. I will see what I can do about the accommodations when I have time."
Guinevere grabbed his shoulder, her nails digging beneath his collarbone. "Father thinks he can replace me with a low born such as yourself? Do you think so highly of yourself that you think you can do better?"
Schneizel raised an eyebrow expectantly.
"Of course not," Lelouch mocked. "I know nothing of negotiation, that is why I'm here to learn. Now, let go. Your failures are none of my concern."
"Peace, brother," Schneizel said and peeled away Guinevere's hand. "We're all just tired from a long day. Did you notice anything we may have missed, Lelouch?"
"I don't think so. Why did the adjutant's presence bother you?"
"Leila Breisgau," Guinevere spat. "Her family defected to the E.U., yet General Smilas flaunts her before us as if we hadn't requested her return multiple times. He is mocking us."
"Probably," Lelouch absently agreed. "Goodnight, Guinevere. Schneizel."
General Smilas had claimed her parents were dead, which if true, meant they had probably been assassinated. Important then, supported by the name sounding vaguely familiar. But there hadn't been any defections in the past few years to warrant such action which suggested her parents were at fault. A successful child of a pair of traitors... Most likely, she was supposed to be dead as well. The general was playing a cruel game to risk her life to bait Britannia.
Did he care for her so little?
More importantly, did she know?
Ashford Academy
Much had changed for Kallen since the invasion of her homeland. Every day, as she rode to school in her family's limousine and looked outside, she was reminded that no matter how much she detested the changes, it could be worse. Much worse. Her people were starving out in the streets, while she lived a life of luxury and rubbed elbows with their oppressors.
Her older brother, Naoto had forgotten his promise to fight to pursue his dream of becoming a doctor. And no matter how much she wanted to begrudge him for living as a random Britannian and working in the Tokyo Memorial Hospital, she couldn't. He was a good doctor. Helping both Britannains and Numbers. Despite abandoning the fight, he was still doing more than her.
She slammed her locker shut and winced as the other students stared at her in surprise. Blend in. That was what her father told her. Her brother. And even when she finally thought she would do something special, something new, she was told to play nice with the nobles. Not draw attention.
Too young they had said. Too young to hold a gun and fight. If she only had a chance, then she could prove herself.
"You're alright, Kallen?" Shirley, ever cheerful, asked.
"Of course," Kallen said because anything else would blow her over. She was the daughter of a wealthy lord with connections to Lord Ashford. What did she have to be upset about? Her step-mother was well regarded and her father frequently traveled securing new business deals.
Shirley regarded her suspiciously. "I promise I won't tell anyone if there's anything. Your secrets will be safe with me."
"Truly, it's nothing. I guess I'm just a little nervous about today's P.E. class."
"You'll be fine," Shirley reassured and put away her own bag in the locker. "You do fencing. At least you know how to fight. Can you imagine me hurting someone? When Casey hit her head during swim practice, I threw up."
Kallen patted her back awkwardly. "I'm sure you will do fine."
Despite being Britannian, Shirley seemed nice enough. She was always exceptionally kind to everyone, but also sickeningly naive.
As they exited the changing room, a blond girl pointed her cane at them. "Shirley. Allie's going in the simulators and Milly disappeared. You need to be my eyes."
Shirley, being nice as she was, readily agreed to the blind girl's request, but also being the devil-in-disguise, insisted Kallen should join them. Kallen watched the two gossip and flushed as she suddenly realized who the girl was: Nunnally Lamperouge, the Middle School President. Someone that Kallen had steadfastly avoided throughout her school years. Whenever her brother visited, the girls would swoon over his military uniform or his two friends. It was sickening.
"Oh, my apologies," Nunnally said abruptly, as she turned and extended a hand vaguely in her direction. "I'm Nunnally. I'm afraid I don't recognize your voice."
"Kallen Stadtfeld. We haven't met." She shook her hand and warily watched as recognition flitted across the girl's face. She was supposed to be avoiding attention from the military, not catch the attention of some soldier's sister.
"A pleasure. We should head into Tokyo to have lunch-"
"Nunnally!" A piercing scream cut her off and a small pink hellion crashed into her. "It's so good to see you."
"Euphie!" Nunnally stepped back, smiling widely. "I can't believe you finally managed to convince, Co-your sister. This is amazing!"
Euphie twirled away, curtsying to them. "Are these your friends?"
"That's Shirley"-Who waved hesitantly-"she is on the student council and super sweet, but never let her into the kitchen. Brother banned her years ago. And that's Kallen. She's amazing at fencing"-Kallen's eyes widened-"and they're both good friends of mine," Nunnally finished.
Thankfully, Shirley saved her from answering, "It's always nice to meet Nunnally's friends. Welcome to Ashford Academy. Your sister has nothing to worry about. How did you meet each other anyway?"
"Oh, a long time ago. We played together as kids and kept in touch." Euphie grinned wickedly. "We used to fight over who would marry Lelouch."
Kallen stared at her in horror. "You too?"
"You don't like my brother?" Nunnally asked, looking strangely enthralled by the prospect.
Warily, Kallen answered, "I'm not too fond of the military."
"Finally! Finally someone has some common sense. Come on, you're my new eyes. I need some sanity around me." Nunnaly pulled her towards the viewing deck to overlook multiple knightmare simulators installed in what had been the gym.
Behind them, Shirley eagerly quizzed Euphie on her life. The girl answered the barrage of questions as if nothing could fluster her. That was until Shriley asked, "So what does your sister do?"
Euphie fell silent and rested on the bannister sending anxious glances at Nunnally.
"Euphie doesn't like to talk about it," Nunnally answered as if nothing was amiss. "She thinks it's embarrassing. Like there's anything embarrassing about having a Colonel as a sister."
Kallen swallowed, suddenly pressed between two girls with siblings who she wanted nothing to do with. Her eyes wandered over to Euphie, burying her face in her hands. There was another reason she hadn't wanted to say anything. Only a noble could become a Colonel which begged the question how Euphie and Nunnally knew another.
Narrowing her eyes at Nunnally, Kallen wondered why she had suddenly declared them friends. Yes, Ashford Academy had grown more casual over the years and commoners and nobles easily interacted, but nobody declared friendship that easily. And Nunnally had recognized her name, meaning she was aware of the class divide between the two.
Behind her innocent face, what was she planning? Or had attending a Britannian school finally caused her to snap. Suspecting the blind girl of something nefarious? She couldn't even walk unattended.
Still, her stomach refused to settle.
"Oh, that's Allie! It's her turn," Shirley cried. "Do you think she'll do well?"
Nunnally shrugged easily. "Well, it's her first time. She'll do just fine. She has something to fight for."
True to her assertion, the round finished and her name flashed on the screen, moving to the top of the scoreboard. Nunnally only smiled knowingly at the news, and Kallen watched Allie curiously as she joined them, ignoring the whispers of her being a potential ace.
The girl walked with confidence with her brown hair neatly held in a ponytail despite the sweat glistening on her face. She greeted Shirley warmly, but narrowed her eyes at Euphie whispering into Nunnally's ear and cleared her throat.
Immediately, Nunnally turned around to congratulate her friend. When they separated, their hands were still intertwined, and Allie stood proudly, smirking at Euphie.
"Group five," the announcer shouted and Kallen grimaced.
"Good luck," Shirley whispered. "You will do just fine."
Kallen entered the simulator with a frown. The controls beckoned to her. This was Britannia's instrument of power. She so desperately wanted to rip it out of their clutches and turn the machine against their troops, so they would know terror. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance she would be gifted at knightmare combat. An ace herself. Someone capable of standing up against the terror of a Knight of the Round.
Then maybe, she would finally be allowed to actually fight instead of being a stupid observer. No matter how many reassurances she received that her role was important, useful, she couldn't see it. Who was she kidding? She couldn't risk drawing attention to herself.
She glanced backup at the observation deck and the clustered students. Shirley's bright red hair was easy to spot as she talked animatedly to Nunnally. Euphie waved and Kallen hesitantly returned it.
No. She couldn't risk it, especially having somehow caught their attention. She was entirely too close to the military for comfort.
With a sigh, she settled down in the simulator and the hatch closed. The start-up sequence played with a helpful tutorial on the controls. Rolling her eyes, she followed the instructions as her heart hammered, waiting for the real test to begin. She couldn't lose too quickly. That would be embarrassing.
How long had Allie been in the simulator? Ten minutes? Then she would survive for five.
The timer in the right counted down: 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
A familiar landscape stretched out around her and she bit back a sob. Tokyo. Tokyo in all its glory as the sun rose and reflected off the towering skyscrapers. Tokyo with neon ads displaying painfully familiar and nostalgic products.
The timer in the lower right corner was blinking. Over the stereo, she could hear garbled orders, but none of that mattered. This was Tokyo in a form that she had thought was permanently lost.
And she was in a knightmare in a startlingly empty city as the alarms began to blare. The absolute bastards! It wasn't enough to wipe away her heritage. The Britannains had to use it for their little war games.
A modified knightmare frame approached with the flag of Japan painted on the chassis.
Liars. All of them liars. Japan didn't have knightmares to defend themselves, but that would have looked bad telling a bunch of students to destroy little tanks. Would reveal that the conquest hadn't been just or honorable, but a one-sided slaughter.
She dodged the mockery's strike and growled. Her vision blurred as she surged forward and drove her hand through its neck joint. It deserved death for its mockery. It fell to the ground. Her eyes continued to sting.
More knightmares approached. Through the open channel, they hurled insults at her in Japanese and English.
Were these the recordings of dead men? Their last final words as a Britannian monster stood above them, ready to bathe the land in their blood. There were no cries for mercy in English. But she could hear the familiar Japanese words. The begging to those who would never listen and enjoyed their destruction.
She tore through another knightmare. Another mockery and erasure of the truth. Britannia wanted to be seen as just. Yet, this is what they did? They couldn't even let the dead lie in peace. Instead digging them up and using their voices for their own amusement.
More and more knightmares, spray painted with ridiculous caricatures that were supposed to pass as kanji, streamed in. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. They surrounded her, and, while they shouted threats in English, she could hear their pleas in Japanese.
She wouldn't lose to these... abominations.
One down. Two down. Her right arm caught in their grasp. She ejected it and fired a slash harken through the ridiculous false face.
All of it, lies.
And no matter how many she defeated. They kept coming. Kept flooding the area. Infinite and without respite like the Britannian army. They deserved to rot in hell and their stupid Emperor to be burned at the stake just like how he set cities aflame.
The timer on the bottom right corner changed from white to blue. Seven minutes.
Kallen froze, staring at it, and then the carnage she had left behind.
She didn't move as an enemy unit fired at her. The screen froze and everything grew still. What had she done? Perhaps this was still average.
Her eyes took in the destruction once more visible behind the unit that had defeated her. Those were supposed to be her countrymen. More importantly, people. Half of the downed knightmares hadn't ejected.
Her skin slowly peeled away from the controls. She had murdered them... acted like a Britannian. It wasn't real. A simulation. Yet it hadn't felt like that in the moment.
The hatch opened, and she stumbled out.
"Thank you for serving your country today. Britannia needs your help to defend our glorious nation against terrorists and savage invaders. Apply to the knightmare corps today and rise to fame," the machine announced cheerfully.
She threw up. Around her people shouted, but she couldn't focus. Her hands were so painfully clean. She was a killer.
"Oh, Kallen." They helped her to her feet and led her to a small bench, shoving a towel and bucket into her hands. "Motion sickness?"
Kallen nodded. Nobody else had thrown up. Some had been rattled. Especially the younger students, yet none had thrown up. What was wrong with them? To think nothing of killin?. And what was Kallen to have mindlessly lost herself to undignified rage?
As the next round began with a loud announcement, Milly sat down beside her and shooed a concerned Shirley away. She joined an anxious Euphie, Nunnally, and Allie who hovered in the distance, watching.
"You alright?" Milly asked as she rubbed her back. "Grandfather wants to talk to you."
Kallen nodded, and the weight of failure settled across her shoulders. The girl knew the truth about her heritage. "How badly did I do?"
"Well... The scores are submitted automatically. You did very well... Too well. You'll have recruiters knocking on your door by this evening. I'm sorry. I don't know how to help. But Grandfather has a plan."
"I could just say no?" Kallen suggested, not wanting to meet the man who had forced her family into an agreement. It could be worse. He could've taken advantage of them. But she could never forget the feeling of terror when he discovered the truth. He held all the cards.
Milly chuckled nervously. "No. I don't imagine they will let you. Best you'll be able to argue is that you should finish your schooling first. But you're old enough. And they'll ask questions. Ask why you don't want to serve. And questions lead to inquiry. If you hadn't done as well, maybe, you could have a choice. Unfortunately, you're an ace."
"How?" Kallen gasped as her ears roared. "Allie was in the simulator for almost ten minutes. She survived longer than I did."
"It's not measured on time," Millie answered. "She spent more time dodging than you obviously bothered to do. We'll figure something out."
"Thank you." That was all that could be said.
Milly nodded and stood up and her friends coalesced around with worried questions. Eventually, they wandered off, convinced by Kallen's halfhearted insistence that she was fine. There was nothing they could do. Nunnally though, she waited even as her best friend left. Silently, she sat down on the bench beside her.
"I'm sorry," Nunnally simply said.
"Not your fault. I just got motion sick. Nothing a bit of practice won't cure."
"No. I know you hate the army, and it's unfair that they'll pressure you to join. I could... I asked Allie what the simulation was." She fell silent. "I can't believe... No, I can. They shouldn't have done that. There are better ways to gauge someone's aptitude."
Kallen laughed hoarsely, wondering how the girl knew what was truly bothering her. "Isn't your brother in the army? Must be mighty familiar."
"He actually hates knightmares. Do you know how much the ground shakes when they walk past? It's like an earthquake. Or a bomb. I didn't even know what it was the first time."
"How?" Kallen asked because that sounded personal and she had to judge the obviously Britannian girl in a new light. Everyone had secrets. But finding a potential ally at Ashford, someone who could understand, wasn't something she was expecting. Especially one with a brother in the military.
"My mother pilots a knightmare," Nunnally answered. The answer felt inadequate and the silence stretched between them. Finally, she relented, "My brother helps with security for Lord Ashford when he visits. I don't think he knows that he is supposed to relax because he's always busy. Last time, Lord Ashford banned anyone from giving him a job, so he snuck into the city to take a part time position as a line cook. But I know."
"I'm relevant to Ashford's security?" Kallen asked, her stomach sinking. She was supposed to blend in. Not attract attention. Those were her orders. She hadn't done anything to garner suspicion in years.
"Of course. You're on the threat index," Nunnally answered.
"I never did anything," Kalen spat. All her effort in vain, foiled by her blood. Yes, she was a traitor, biding her time, but she hadn't even done anything yet.
"You're not the only one on there," Nunnally reassured.
"And what can I do? Haven't I done everything asked of me? Met everyone's expectations?"
"Go see Lord Ashford. He's the ruler of this little fiefdom no matter how much he delegates the public facing front to Milly," she answered before leaving her alone to drown in the misery of her thoughts.
Tokyo Memorial Hospital, Area Eleven
Naoto was not having a good day. Firstly, his secret sister, who had refused to talk to him for the past two years, was crying in one of the patient rooms after she had randomly shown up, muttering something incoherent about school before bursting into inconsolable sobs and mumbling Japanese swear words. Before any of the other doctors could question him, he had quickly secreted her away. Lord Ashford would be displeased if rumors began of the Stadtfeld heiress being at the hospital.
Then, a trauma patient arrived with three bullet holes and a knife lodged between the ribs. The Knight Police was currently making a fuss in the lobby that the patient was a terrorist and they should relinquish him into their custody immediately, no matter how often, Naoto explained that the patient wasn't even stable.
He was fairly certain that the patient wasn't part of any of the resistance groups that frequently sought medical care. His face was unfamiliar and his family fretting in the side lobby for Numbers were foreign. More likely, he had managed to escape whatever entertainment the Knight Police had in store for him.
Lastly, his friend Ohgi was whispering into his ear in hurried Japanese about some big operation they had discovered. While he was happy to fix them up and pass the occasional relevant tidbit of information along, he wasn't about to help plan an attack. That went beyond resistance and into actual terrorism.
"It's not terrorism," Ohgi snapped. "A military base. Look, it's super suspicious. Really hush-hush. We're not even saying we want to attack it, but if the-"
Naoto sidestepped into a patient's room and Ohgi growled, but waited outside.
"I don't care, Ohgi," he hissed as he returned. "It's too risky. I have a family to think about. If we're caught, what do you think will happen to them? My sister? So, no, I'm not going to poke around a wasp nest because you think there's something fishy. There is always something fishy."
"A sister who doesn't talk to you? Admit it, Naoto-"
"Nathan, it's Nathan here or do you want to get me arrested? Because the Knight Police in the lobby would love an excuse."
"Admit it, Nathan, your sister turned her back on us when she realized it's easier being a Brit." Ohgi raised his hands as Naoto glared at him. "I don't really blame her. Half of our guys would lay down their arms if offered a position in the nobility. But you can't let that stop you. Where's the friend I knew? The one who wanted to fight? Or is he joining his sister to dance at the whim of some posh Brit."
Naoto checked the corridor and dragged his friend into a room and slammed the door shut. "Firstly, don't do this here. I work here or have you forgotten? I have pissed off the Knight Police well enough by patching up Tamaki when he shows up here because he had to get injured like an idiot. Why do you think I'm the only one to treat him? Because the other doctors have the common sense to not hang around a suspected terrorist. If it weren't for Ashford, I would be in prison already or accidently shot. But if they ever find proof, then all the goodwill is gone and this hospital will be just like every other."
His pager buzzed and Naoto swore softly. If he had to explain one more time, he might just break his oath and stab the arrogant bastards in the lobby. It would be so satisfying.
Thankfully, Ohgi didn't move to stop him. "After work then? You know where we are."
"Maybe." Naoto paused. "Kallen came to visit actually. I don't-"
"I understand. Family first. Good luck, my old friend," Ohgi said with a sad smile.
In the lobby, Naoto raised an eyebrow as the nurse gestured at three young girls in a familiar uniform. "May I help you, ladies?"
"We'd like to volunteer," the blond girl announced.
Naoto glanced at the nurse who shrugged. "If you'll follow me, I'm sure we can find something... age appropriate."
Briskly, he walked past the glowering Knight Police and through the door. Finally, he arrived at the storage room. "Everything here needs to be sorted. Ask for Dr. Walker if you need anything." He was forgetting something. "Right, your names?"
The blond girl turned around before facing him, her eyes looking past him. "Nunnally Lamperouge. And this is Allie Welch and Euphie Lichtberg."
He shifted and her eyes didn't track him. She was blind. Maybe it was just a coincidence? No, Lord Ashford was going to kill him. He was strangely overprotective of her brother for an indiscernible reason. Most likely, that extended to her as well. And if he didn't kill him, then Lelouch would.
"Does your brother know about this? You're not even fourteen!"
Nunnally scowled. "He's not my keeper. Besides, it's just a few more months. And, brother-" Her mouth snapped shut.
"Please," the other girl, Euphie, begged. "We'll do everything you ask."
"You're going home," Naoto growled. "It's not safe coming here. What if you had been mugged?"
Nunnally's lower lip quivered. "But if we return to school, wouldn't that be dangerous as well? If you're so worried, you could escort us home."
"Just for today," he said. Her face smoothed out, revealing the previous act and he knew he had fallen into some sort of trap.
"I'll be back tomorrow then and if you're so concerned-"
"Your brother will murder me if anything happens. You're not going."
"You can't stop me."
Both Lamperouge siblings were officially annoying. "If we're doing this, you'll wait for me to pick you up at the end of school and then for me to return you, understood?"
The three girls nodded.
He spun around. "Come on, I'm sure I can find some bedpans for you to clean."
An hour later, he finally managed to take his overdue lunch break. It was dinner time. Lucy Swiston, a fellow doctor, sat down beside him and handed him an apple. "Our special patient is stable now, but somehow the Knight Police are under the impression he's suffering from a rare disease. I don't know what to say."
"Lucy, you're an angel," Naoto said, closing his eyes. "Is it contagious?"
"Very. They're terribly lucky to not have contracted it already," she said and through half lidded eyes, he watched her steal a fry of his. "What's up with those students who came by today? Harry says you asked to change your schedule immediately after seeing them."
He groaned. "You know Soldier Boy, the one who likes to pick fights with the Knight Police? The blond one is his sister."
"Ahh. The way he talked about his sister, I thought she was eight. Not thirteen. Although I think the Knight Police might hate him more than you. The two of them aren't that bad though for soldiers. When they first asked to volunteer, I thought it was some sort of trick."
That had been an interesting day to say the least. Lelouch and Frederick, their posture screaming military, had quietly asked if they could volunteer. Consistently understaffed,-because what Brit wanted to work in the Number hospital?-the nurse had been hesitant to turn them down. Naoto, fresh on the job and starting his residency, had watched as Lucy told them no.
"How many regulations did he quote back at you?" Naoto joked.
"Ugh. Too many. Kid just didn't give up. I told them I was busy, left for three hours, and they were still there. Sitting in the damn lobby, waiting patiently. I was pleasantly surprised, but he just refused to leave. Kept asking how he could help. Think he was almost begging at the end and I was wishing we actually had some damn security to throw them out."
"And then the Knight Police came."
"That was after. First came some Eleven with a three inch piece of glass sticking out his neck and the Brits in the lobby are just yelling because it's the wrong lobby and he's getting his dirty blood on the floor or whatever. His friend is switching between shouting for a doctor and swearing in Japanese at them. Some man, built like a knightmare, got too close for comfort so he pulls out a gun and I'm just standing before him, terrified, trying to convince him to put down the gun and let me help his friend."
Naoto frowned. That had never been mentioned.
"I swore the staff to secrecy afterwards. And we scrubbed the security recording. Turns out when all cleaning staff and such is Numbers, they're surprisingly helpful when you're trying to help one of their own. But I'm terrified for my life, and Lelouch steps up to the man and doesn't even flinch when the gun is pointed at him. Frederick was yelling at him not to be an idiot. And Lelouch? He just talks to the man in Japanese."
"Japanese?" Naoto asked and swallowed nervously. What conversation had Lelouch overheard?
"Yeah, Japanese. Couldn't believe it myself. Here's some soldier and instead of arresting him or something, he talks him down and takes the gun. Even talks to the patient, calms him down so he willingly goes inside with me. I passed him to a nurse, and returned to beg him to be silent, but the Knight Police had already arrived. Lelouch just lied to their faces saying he hadn't seen any terrorists and of course people when injured can be confused. There wasn't a gun, just the guy's keys."
"And the next thing I know, there's some kid hanging around trauma begging to be taught stitches," Naoto said. "Really, though. Why did you choose to trust them? Not that I dislike them..."
Lucy leaned back and stole another french fry. "Do you know how much they paid me to move to Britannia? Even afterwards, I got more job offers than what I knew what to do with. Lord Ashford pays well, but not that well. I took this job because I want to save lives, not just some rich asshole's. You're here to save the lives of your fellow Numbers. They saved a man's life despite their career, and maybe they can save more."
Naoto stared at her cautiously. "How did you know?"
"Next time be more discreet when your sister arrives. Besides, it feels like something Lord Ashford would do." Her pager buzzed. "Don't worry. I'll drive the kids back to their boarding school. Go spend time with your sister."
Cleaning up his meal, he rose and carried it to the room where he had bid Kallen to hide hours prior. She sat in the armchair in the corner, tear tracks glistening on her cheek and hugging her legs, but seemed to have finally calmed down. She even smiled as he entered and his heart soared. It had been too long.
"Your... visit was a surprise," he began awkwardly and held out his lunch remains. "Dinner?"
Her hands shaking, she grabbed it and wolfed down the rice. "Thank you, Nii-san. I just... it's been a while, hasn't it?"
He chuckled and kneeled beside her. "I thought you hated me. You just went dark. I missed you, Kallen. What happened?"
"I..." She looked away. "I don't hate you. But I shouldn't have come. This was silly."
As she rose, Naoto pulled her into a hug and fresh sobs racked her body. "What happened today? Please, let me help you once more. Even if it's just today."
And through broken sobs, she shared how she had fought in the knightmare simulation. And done well. Too well. He pulled her tighter, not knowing what he would do if his baby sister was sent off to war, even if she was fighting from the safety of a knightmare. Finally, she pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm sorry."
"Come on," he whispered and guided her by the shoulder. "Let me drive you home."
"People will see."
"Just one night won't hurt."
In front of the familiar home where once he had played in the front yard, he let Kallen out. She stood in the cool night air, her cloak drawn tightly, but didn't head inside. "Thank you for reminding me what it means to be Japanese."
"Kallen!" he shouted as she turned to leave. He passed her a tissue. "Don't let your step-mother see. Come here. If you... I'll always be here for you even if it means sacrificing everything else."
She hugged him tightly, strangling his lungs. When she pulled away, her face was firm. "Don't worry. It won't happen again."
Whatever fragile connection had formed between them was gone. And he had no idea what he had done to sever it. He watched her enter the house, desperately hoping she would turn around once more. She didn't.
On the drive home, thoughts plagued him as he wondered what was wrong. What he could have done differently. Because she needed help. Every part of her was screaming for it. Yet, no pleas escaped her lips. Exhausted, he fell into bed fully clothed. Two hours later, unable to sleep, he stood up and grabbed his coat.
His feet wandered through Tokyo aimlessly. He passed the ghosts of childhood nostalgia hiding under the Britannian constructions replacing them. Eventually, he found himself in the ghetto, slurping at a bowl of ramen as an old lady watched him with curious eyes, and eagerly accepted his cash. A familiar enka playing mournfully. When was the last time Kallen had ramen? Udon? Onigiri?
Did her step-bitch ever bother to learn what Kallen's favorite foods were? Her favorite color? Her favorite song? All those years ago when Lord Ashford arrived, he should have kept his mouth shut. Then maybe, he wouldn't have lost Kallen. Was there even time still to bridge the gap?
Dodging a Knight Police patrol, he wandered deeper into the ghetto, searching for an answer. Instead, he found himself before Ohgi's door.
"Naoto? It's four in the morning," his old friend mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "You look like shit. What are you doing here?"
"I'll help," he announced and the answer felt so right. How foolish of him to think Kallen could ever find happiness if she was forced to hide. Surviving wasn't enough. "Whatever you need, I'll do it."
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- The wiki got the year Nunnally was born wrong. Unfortunately, I've been using her birthdate to calculate her age, so Nunnally will still be thirteen for Shinjuku events. This discovery is quite annoying.
- I watched Akito… it wasn't great. So I'm borrowing Leila and Smilas and throwing the rest in the garbage. I'm also changing their personality slightly to conform better with what I think their character was supposed to be rather than how they came across.
Author's Note:
And thus begins books 2. Sorry for the delay, unfortunately 2020 has been rather mercurial and I'm a fool to have thought I could plan ahead.
To all of you who asked me where Kallen was, she has arrived. I didn't include her in the last fic because she's been doing a whole lot of nothing for the majority of the time and that would've been boring to read. A lot more of the anime cast will be showing up, expanding my character soup, and hopefully making you happy.
I'm debating whether or not I will need to update my rating for mature themes as the last book definitely pushed that rating at times. But unfortunately a lot of people will take that to mean smut… which I'm not writing.
I'll be updating every other week, at this time, for the foreseeable future.
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj
Thank you x1tears1X and Spaded Ace18 on FFN for your help with betaing