Lelouch welcomes the pain as if it were an embrace from a dear friend. He doesn't bother to sit up, doesn't bother to open his eyes. He stays still as the vines wrap more and more tightly around him, as his clothes get more and more soaked with blood. He even feels a weak smile form on his lips. Fighting had only brought him more pain and it is evident that if he stays still long enough it will all go away.
He will feel nothing.
How magnificent it would be, to feel nothing at all.
The vine around Lelouch's throat constricts, cutting the air from his lungs, and the violet-eyed boy feels himself getting closer, and closer, and closer—
A fierce gasp escapes Lelouch as the strangulation at his throat abruptly disappears. His eyes fly open, but only to narrow again when in place of the eerie darkness they take in an abnormally bright light. When he regains his senses, Lelouch acknowledges the silhouette sitting in from him.
The silhouette slowly brings her finger to contact with the vines around Lelouch's body, and Lelouch watches in absolute astonishment as the vines dissolve into nothing. First it was the vines around his shoulders and chest, then slowly cascading down his body. Once his left arm was free Lelouch lifted it, the action manifesting a strong tingling sensation in his muscles. His mouth is kept hung open as he finds difficulty in processing the situation. Could it be that just as his arm is free, he, as a whole, would be free?
His eyes finally adjust to the brightness, and he turns to stare at the silhouette in amazement. It bothered Lelouch how her face was empty of any features, because he was aching to find out just what expression she would be wearing at the moment. Though some part of him insisted she was smiling.
The vines at Lelouch's abdomen were gone, and pain slowly receded from the top of his body. He had been expecting his body to become numb once the pain was gone, but he was utterly wrong, for his body was thriving with a new feeling. It wasn't pain.
It was…
…something pleasant.
Something he'd never felt before his entire life.
Something he wants to keep feeling for the rest of his life.
The stunning sensation spreads throughout his body, making him feel like soft rose petals are cascading over his skin. The silhouette proceeded to clean off the vines from Lelouch's legs, and the raven-haired boy couldn't believe he would actually be freed until it happened. The vines were completely g0ne, and the pain was becoming a distant memory as well.
The gears of Lelouch's brain were frozen, his entire being unable to move or comprehend what just happened. He was all but able to move his head, to turn to the silhouette, casting an aghast stare on her. And now it was not a mere guess when he believed she was smiling at him.
He could feel her smiling at him.
The silhouette got up and offered Lelouch a hand, and the latter spent longer than a moment trying to decide whether to take it or not. He stared at the little flickers of light bouncing around her hand. It was the first time he'd seen the silhouette up close, and he was mesmerised by her build. She was made of pure white light, something that would have put every single star in the sky to shame.
Lelouch produces a shaky breath that makes all agitation leave his body, and reaches for the hand in front of him. His and the silhouette's hands were intertwined firmly, and the latter helped him up, much to the dismay of his wounds. His body was rather shaky, but the silhouette made him stand on his feet with great ease. It was like her mere presence supplied Lelouch's strength. But the boy was on his feet for no more than a second when everything around him shattered.
The darkness broke like glass, falling to reveal the bright, buttery light of an afternoon sun in a serene blue sky. The ground he was standing on shifted to lush grass, unbelievably soft and twinkling in the cascading sunlight. It was as if everything around him was singing a symphony of utmost joy.
The abrupt change in his surroundings almost nauseated Lelouch, but it was the changes in him that astounded him the most. His body was no longer sore and tired. Energy coursed through his veins. His wounds were no more. The torn, bloody clothes he was wearing suddenly became brand new, as clean as ever, as white as snow.
Lelouch stared around him in amazement. Just a little while ago he was prepared to bid his life farewell in desperation. And now…
He does a double take when he stares right next to him. The silhouette had changed as well.
The major difference was that she was no longer a mere silhouette, instead an actual human being. With fair skin, green eyes, and long ginger hair.
With a smile brighter than the sun itself.
"Shirley," Lelouch gasps.
Said girl looked breathtakingly beautiful despite only wearing a plain dress, just as white as Lelouch's shirt and trousers, that descended all the way to her knees. She takes a step closer to Lelouch and takes both his hands into hers. She held them tightly, as if to affirm that she is indeed here with him. The action makes something burst in Lelouch's chest; the same unfamiliar yet pleasant feeling he'd gotten earlier, except a thousand times fold.
He was truly free.
It was too good to believe.
Lelouch slowly moves one hand to Shirley's head, softly cupping her cheek. Before he knew it his forehead was leaned against hers. A gentle wind was blowing, making waves through their hair and ripples through their clothes.
It was all in a wonderful moment that he wanted to stretch for all eternity.
He was free.
Lelouch slowly opens his eyes.
His senses are momentarily frenzied. He was sure that just a moment ago he'd been standing, taking in a bright light, and now he was laying on his bed, with nothing to stare at but the ceiling of his dark bedroom. But what was most peculiar was this eerie sensation in his body. It manifested in his chest, but every single muscle in his body was tingling.
The boy shakes his head but nonetheless feels a faint laugh bubble in his chest. He should know better than to let feelings induced by his dreams linger. If something was indeed worthy of occupying his mind then it should be birthed in his wakening, not while he is unconscious. Nevertheless, to be engulfed in a feeling this pleasant, Lelouch can't really complain, in spite of when, where or how this feeling developed.
He moves to the edge of his bed and reaches for his nightstand, where the sketch of Shirley lies. He gently traces the worn-out paper, his fingers moving haphazardly. He tries to clear his mind but isn't successful. It has only been two days since his encounter with Shirley but Lelouch feels it's been two lifetimes. Every passing moment carried a torment of emotions with it. He'd be filled with gratitude, knowing that he is slowly escaping the clutches of this cruel disease. He occasionally found himself dreaming, thinking just how his life would be if that were to truly happen.
To love, and be loved. It's something he's yet to experience, and while it is guaranteed that love never sparks enthusiasm in Lelouch, he can't help but enjoy the warmth that comes to his chest whenever he thinks of the possibilities he has with Shirley.
But speaking of possibilities…
Lelouch softly sighs as he rolls to the middle of his bed again. He doesn't want to think of it. He can't think of it.
Lelouch never thought there would come a time where his tendency to figure out every single possibility ahead of him would do him harm. He knows that it is one of his best qualities but in this particular situation he doesn't want to think what would happen if things don't turn out the way he wants them to.
They way he hopes they do.
All it takes is a single thought of him or Shirley coughing a petal and the boy loses his mind. Within him there is fear that all of a sudden everything will fall apart, that this whole thing will reveal itself to be one perfect mistake.
A perfectly shaped, perfectly timed mistake.
Every time his chest contracts he freezes with fear, agitation spreading within him as he waits in horror to see if flower petals are climbing up his oesophagus. The entire world would halt, and those few agonising moments would feels like years in the back of his mind. He was continuously worried, despite the fact that his doctor had confirmed that he is indeed slowly being cured from the disease.
It was shown in yet another x-ray taken of the prince's lungs. When compared with older x-rays, it was clear that the flowers in Lelouch's lungs had shrunk. Although the doctor did deduce that the shrinking is occurring rather slowly. This did, however, open the window to a certain hypothesis Lelouch had mentioned in an earlier appointment. The doctor was neither joyous nor downcast when she had told Lelouch that, despite the feelings being returned, he still had plenty of time to decide whether he is going for the surgery or not.
The words had caught Lelouch by surprise, and it had taken him a moment to remember that it was him who had first mentioned the possibility of going for the surgery even if his feelings were to be returned.
But that was before he realised the truth.
Before he discovered that it was Shirley he's in love with.
Before he'd developed the desire to form a relationship with Shirley.
Lelouch clearly remembers how he had replied to the doctor.
Even though he had no guarantee that this would work out, no guarantee that his battle with fate will be over, in his heart he knew what he wanted.
It was his heart that did the talking.
"No, doctor." Lelouch smiles. "The surgery is no longer an option."
Shirley finds herself fascinated by how the flow of time has slowed and slowed ever since her encounter with Lelouch. She knows it's all in her mind, yet she can't help but feel that the entire world has changed since that day. She can't tell how, exactly, everything has changed, but she is easily aware that it brings her back to the time where she was a remarkably lovestruck girl. It's the same invisible petals tingling her skin, the same acrobatics her heart is doing in her chest.
She brings the rose up to her nose again, and slowly inhales a long breath, taking in the sweet scent of the petals. The rose was as any other she'd ever seen, typical colour and scent even. Still, there was something peculiar about it, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that Lelouch had given her the rose, but Shirley suspected there was some other underlying cause to it. Said prince had insisted Shirley take the rose, even though he had no confirmation the girl is truly his love, and it made the gesture all the more loving. He said that it could help Shirley decide on her feelings, and that if it didn't, he'd want her to have it anyway; she had his gratitude in any case.
Shirley's mind was a rollercoaster. Her thoughts were unkempt to the extent that she couldn't even fully register the gesture until she'd returned home that night. Only when she'd laid in bed, her body almost as weary as her mind. She held the rose in front of her, watching as the moonlight reflected off the crimson petals. And all of a sudden the feelings flooded her like a wave crashing on a desert. It was like she was sinking into a lake, warm water and leaves and petals washing over her. It was a sensation more delightful than words could describe.
A sensation she never wanted to go away.
Even though there was a possibility it would leave, maybe even take a part of her with it.
Lelouch could have already coughed up a flower petal. Reality could have already shed off its beautiful mask. The smoke and mirrors could have already cleared and presented them with what they never wanted to see.
Shirley had known from the very beginning odds were exceedingly grim, yet it struck her with the same force every time, the possibility that she was not actually the person Lelouch is in love with. That Lelouch has gotten the disease because of some other girl, an aristocrat maybe, a girl that could easily be with Lelouch with no obstacles keeping her away from the prince.
Such scenario fitted both ideally and logically. But Shirley didn't want to think with logic. Or rather, she couldn't, for her heart was the only thing harbouring her thoughts right now. Her heart was doing all the thinking and talking, and it was telling her that being with Lelouch is something Shirley needs to be complete. There was an empty space inside her where Lelouch wasn't there, a void she never knew existed until she came to know of what could fill it. All these thoughts made her heart race until it wasn't certain her ribs would stay intact.
She takes in another deep breath to calm herself down.
Just one more day.
One more day and the truth will be found out. Whether it is what Shirley hopes it will be or what she fears it will be, it will be uncovered.
Lelouch had forgotten what it was like to not constantly be in pain.
Sitting in the garden on this sunny, serene afternoon, enjoying some quality time with his sister to compensate for the time lost due to his sickness, the eleventh son is harboured by an intense, pleasant yet unfamiliar feeling. He knows only a short while has passed since he'd gotten the disease and was embraced by the accompanying fatigues and severe chest pains, yet he feels it's been an eternity since he's been free from such physical torment. To be able to breathe with ease, to not worry about suddenly losing consciousness. It all throws Lelouch's senses into turmoil, makes a feeling akin to numbness claim his being.
"I'm more than delighted to have a chance to spend time with you," came Nunnally's sweet, lullaby-like voice. The sunlight is making her caramel hair shine, and the wind is making little waves through it.
"Same as I, Nunnally." Lelouch smiles at his sister. It is a fact that his sister's presence takes majority of credit for his calmed state. The Hanahaki Disease had not only robbed Lelouch of his wellbeing, but also of the time he spent with Nunnally. The time the prince had in anyone's company, at that, was vigorously limited, but Nunnally was a special case, for Lelouch dared not allow the two of them to be together even on his better days. The attacks of the disease were alarmingly unpredictable, and he wanted all but to hear Nunnally's screams, see the tears in her eyes when he suddenly chokes and coughs and falls to the ground. Nunnally hated Lelouch suffering but Lelouch even more hated her watching him suffer.
Suffice to say the two of them have hardly seen each other in the past while. However, after Lelouch's encounter with Shirley and the doctor's confirmation that the clutches of the disease are slowly being loosened around Lelouch, the prince deemed it innocuous to spend some time with Nunnally, even if it is only sitting in the garden, eyeing the vivid scenery surrounding them.
"You seem to be getting better," Nunnally remarked and even though her eyes were fixed on some bushes in the distance Lelouch couldn't look at her.
He lightly chuckles before saying, "It's the fresh air. The doctor said it helps." A lie on top of a lie.
Said doctor was the only person who knew Lelouch's feelings have been returned, and was sworn to keep it a royal secret. The word couldn't go out, not until Lelouch met with Shirley tomorrow to clear whatever more obstacles the two had in their way. Not until the two decided what happens next.
Not until Lelouch ends his battle with fate.
It is only when the thought plants itself in Lelouch's mind that his whole body freezes. He feels a familiar pain in his chest, like something is being wrapped around him.
His heart rate escalates.
He gives a rather vigorous flinch, and is well aware of Nunnally's concern for him shadowing over them, like a gray cloud covering the bright sun. He tries to take slow, careful breaths, but he can all but seize control and they come in short, panicked gasps.
The pain becomes greater.
Suddenly Lelouch gets dizzy. His vision is a blur of green and blue, spots of other colours dancing around. He can barely feel Nunnally's hand shaking his shoulder, much less hear her screaming his name, which she probably is. He can feel a slightly rougher hand on his back—Suzaku? When did he approach? More importantly, when did Lelouch bend his back like this?
He feels something climb up his throat.
A fierce gasp escapes him.
No.
There is nothing climbing up his throat.
It is all in his head, a trick pain is playing on him.
A trick!
Because he's...
He's...
All at once the image forms in Lelouch's mind: vivid green eyes, long, flowing ginger hair, a smile brighter than the sun itself. A snowy dress, ribbons and petals flying around. A fraction of a second ago Lelouch's vision was cloudy, impossibly blurry, and now he could see the image of Shirley so clearly, almost as if it were right in front of him. He not only sees it, but he feels it. He feels the tenderness and passion and warmth and—
He feels the love.
The one feeling Lelouch could never, for all his highness is worth, be able to understand, was now coursing though his veins. Clearing his mind. Easing his breathing. Dissolving his pain.
Lelouch gradually gets a hold of himself again. He takes deep, measured breaths and straightens his back. He can feel tears at the corners of his eyes. He takes notice of several guards closing in on him and lifts his palm, beckoning them away. He is unsure if they trust he is well now.
He takes one more, heavy breath through his mouth, feeling the air go in and out of his windpipe.
In and out. As easily as ever, with nothing in the way.
Nothing.
"Le-Lelouch?" Nunnally calls in a low, shaky voice. "Are you okay?"
Just to strengthen his certainty, Lelouch repeats the action, taking in a heavy breath though his mouth.
Again, nothing.
He turns to his sister, holding her hands in a reassuring manner. He tries for a smile. "Yes, Nunnally, I'm okay. There's nothing for you to worry about." He squeezes her hands.
Silence sets in around them, and Lelouch doesn't know what to make of it which didn't matter because inside him was anything but silent at the moment.
Just you wait, Nunnally.
All of you wait.
One more day and you will see me manifesting myself out of this battle, winning against fate.
That night Lelouch lay in bed, unable to sleep. The mystery and anticipation of the next day kept driving sleep away. His thoughts were spinning round and round that it didn't even hurt anymore; his head just felt numb. He could only take in one exasperating breath after another. He kept rolling in the sheets, unable to find comfort whatsoever. It isn't long before he gives up on sleeping and kicks the sheets off, getting out of bed.
He makes his way to the window and pulls it open with more force than needed. He shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, beckoning his body to relax. When he opens his eyes again they are immediately fixed on the starry sky above. It was hard to find melancholy in the darkness when the stars were so bright and so captivating.
Lelouch feels the cool breeze of the night on his skin. It contributes to making him relax but doesn't do much to drive his thoughts away.
Love was something Lelouch never understood, yet with all the little knowledge he'd had of it, he never guessed it would be so painful. He was told that love relieves pain and fills one with unspeakable merriment but after living the experience he can't find it in himself to give credence to such words. All Lelouch had gotten out of love was pain, pain that came in strangles and fits and bloody flower petals.
Even now, as peaceful as he could never even dream of being, Lelouch was still in pain.
He could only cling onto that tiny, desperate sliver of hope buried deep, deep inside him. That faint voice in his mind telling him that the pain will be over soon.
That together, he and Shirley would put an end to all the pain.
As weak as the voice was, it gave Lelouch courage, strength to keep going.
He keeps his eyes fixed on the stars. He doesn't know how long he stood there, but he doesn't remember going to sleep.
The nights before a visit to the palace never suggested a sound sleep for Shirley, that is guaranteed, but tonight seems to be an entirely different case. A visit to the palace, a huge school event—nothing has pushed Shirley to the point of being unable to fall asleep, at least not to this extent. She tried and tried and tried, but her eyes refuse to shut, just as her mind.
It wasn't long before she found herself getting out of bed, rendering it useless to struggle finding sleep when sleep was locking itself away. She doubts she was thinking when she made her way to the windowsill, where the rose Lelouch had given her was in a small, clear vase filled with enough water for a single rose. Despite the unlikely circumstances given for the rose, it seemed to be shimmering with life. Again, Shirley wonders just what about the rose is special, but she is only so lucky to point a finger on it.
The moonlight was reflecting off the crimson petals, reminding Shirley of the other petals that were once in her throat. It was peculiar how from the moment she was with Lelouch, the moment she felt those arms wrap around her and lock her in a warm embrace, pain itself became no more than a distant memory. Pain, worry, sorrow... All negative emotions suddenly became unfamiliar to Shirley, and only things akin to joy were known to exist.
Of course, Shirley was very well aware that wasn't the case. She knew for a fact that the path she is walking with Lelouch will be filled with many, many hardships. The path was not entirely made of cloudless skies and colourful flowers. There was also the dark, the forbidding lurking in the shadows. Still, Shirley couldn't find it in herself to be discouraged; the stares need the darkness to shine, after all.
And that is the embodiment of her and Lelouch; they will become the bright stars in the dark sky, the beautiful petals on the bloody flowers. Sacrifices will be made. Prices will be paid. But they will get through it all.
"So I hear you have a friend coming over today."
Lelouch jumps at the sudden voice coming from behind him. His shakiness quickly makes way for irritation when recognition hits him.
Clovis makes his way from behind the velvety couch to stand in front of his brother. "I just can't seem to figure out what it is with you and the uninteresting folk."
"They are not uninteresting just because they open doors by themselves and don't wear clothes that drip diamonds," Lelouch quickly retorts. He is used to reciting similar words to royals that just don't understand that people in other social classes are no different from them.
"Everyone is aware of your outlandish taste, that's a fact. Still, I was taken aback that you'd invite one of them over under such circumstances." Clovis seats himself on the chair next to Lelouch. "You know, with you in the holds of a fatal disease and all."
"I'm on my better days now, thank you for your concern." The sardonic manner flows out of Lelouch like water down a river.
"Oh please, you don't even have good days, let alone better ones." The third son runs a hand through his golden locks. "And don't you think it's rather indecorous of you to go around inviting your lowly acquaintances over when there is a certain someone you should be devoting all your time to at the moment?"
Lelouch doesn't take time to come up with a lie, given the pityingly idiotic person he is talking to. "How can I devote my time to someone I don't even know?" He didn't plan to sound irritated as if he was speaking the truth; the irritation came by itself because, again, it's Clovis he's talking to.
"Certainly not by spending time with someone whom you are sure is not the person you are in love with."
An abrupt quietness captivates Lelouch. He is not surprised by his brother's words; of course his highness is expected to have fallen in love with another member of the upper class. Of course everyone would expect his affection to bestowed upon an aristocrat or someone of the like, and not a commoner. He knows there's no point even hoping such mentality would change but he is unable to restrain a forceful grit of his teeth.
"Your love is out there, Lelouch," Clovis continues and even though he means to sound tender the manner doesn't do much to calm Lelouch's fury. "You just need to do a little more searching to find her and free yourself from the torture of the Hanahaki Disease. Just why would you elongate the period of your sickness and waste your time with—What was her name? Shirley Fenette? When you know she isn't the one—"
It was hearing her name that made Lelouch explode. He slams a hand on the arm of the couch, momentarily resenting who the soft material isn't contributing to showing his anger, and pushes himself up, standing straight, already turning away.
"I hate to break it to you, Clovis, but only I get to render whom spending time with is or is not a waste. If my outlandish taste is something you are well aware of then my adamant nature should be no different. I couldn't care less what you or anyone has to say to the decisions I take when it comes to my acquaintanceships and I never will. So how about you stop wasting my time and let me spend it with whoever I decide to spend it with?" He doesn't even wait for Clovis to answer his question before he starts walking away.
When Clovis does reply, though, he doesn't seem to be shaken by any of Lelouch's words, and even though Lelouch's back is turned to his brother he can tell the blond is waving his words away. "Trust me; everyone knows how stubborn you are. Well, your friend is coming over in any case, so why not let her check out my art room? You know, just so she gains something out of this evening."
In his mind, Lelouch was already shaping another angry lecture to give his brother, but he decides not to waste his energy and makes his way to the door, where his knight waits for him.
He walks through hall after hall but is it only when he is halfway through to his chambers that his weariness settles in. He feels pain pulse in his chest and halts, leaning on the wall. He lightly pants, pressing a hand on his chest. Suzaku, who has been walking by his side, pauses as well, flashing him a look of concern.
"Shall I call on the doctor, Your Highness?"
Lelouch waves his palm at his knight, taking a few extra moments to regain his energy. "No need," he says and is well aware that he very much sounds in need of a doctor. He takes another deep breath, willing the pain to go away.
Tonight.
Just endure it until tonight.
It's only a matter of time before the truth is revealed.
The pain slowly fades away. Lelouch's hand falls to his side and it is only when his vision clears that he realises it was blurred in the first place. He takes another deep breath before he continues walking. The rest of the walk doesn't evoke any more pain although he does feel rather dizzy when he finally arrives at the doors to his room.
He requests a few hours of solitude, some time to help him relax. He will need to be in his best state tonight, after all. He throws himself onto his bed, and even though he feels tired he can't find it in himself to try and sleep. He sighs and rocks his head back, his eyes fixating on the ceiling. Though it is only a moment before he feels something eerily tug at his vision, hears a distant voice telling him to look at something else. Both intrigued and confused, the prince looks to his side, his eyes immediately falling on a small table on the far side of his room.
Lelouch's eyebrows furrow. He is certain this table has been in his room for as long as he can remember, and doesn't know why it is grasping his attention all of a sudden. He gets up and makes his way to the table, and his confusion slowly breaks away when reality dawns upon him.
A vase was placed on the very centre of the table. It was an assorted mix of flowers when it had first arrived but Lelouch arranged it so that only the white and yellow flowers stood out, the rest insignificant and unworthy of attention, barely visible at all. Without much thinking he sifts through the flowers, looking for—surprised he forgot about—a small red rose.
He had rendered the rose the most unworthy flower of all. He had never been fond of roses and perhaps it was the persistent association with romance that was to take the blame. Lelouch had pondered on throwing the flower away but in the end decided to bury it between the larger flowers, putting it out of sight and consequently out of mind.
He never believed that there would come a time where he would be so ardently, so inexplicably drawn to the rose. The prince chuckles despite himself and lightly shakes his head. This was but one of many ways his love for Shirley had turned his world around. It is guaranteed that the prince is a man of his own mind but being controlled by something so mesmerising he couldn't find it in himself to complain.
He brings the rose up to his lips.
Please, Shirley.
Please be the one.
Please be the one that both bound me and set me free.
Shirley was bracing herself for the very terse trial of walking into the palace. She tries to ignore the shivers on her arms and the knots tightening in her gut, her efforts rendered useless when that same jolt captivates her body, nearly stopping her in her tracks. She wills her shaky legs to move forward as she wonders if there will ever come a time where she would undergo this encounter without having forebodings about it.
Most of all she dreaded having to walk in the circle of guards. She is aware that it is merely their job with all visitors. Nonetheless it throws her nerves into jitters, makes her feel like invisible icicles are prickling her skin. She could feel the apprehension washing over her before the guards even approached her.
Only to not have any guard approach.
There were but two guards, standing on either side of her. And in front of her there was only one person.
Shirley's heart threatens to burst out of her chest.
Prince Lelouch himself was standing before her.
It was only when her expectations were defied that the ginger realises she had expectations in the first place. What was she expecting, anyway? Lelouch to be waiting in one of the gardens? To unexpectedly run into her as she is walking with the guards like last time?
Shirley couldn't even begin to comprehend the situation before Lelouch started talking.
"Good evening, Miss Fenette," he said, his tone formal but nonetheless enchanting. He was standing a small distance from Shirley, making the latter just barely able to see the glint of his violet eyes.
Shirley was silent for a moment, still trying to gain any leverage on reality before she remembered she has to reply. "Y-Your Highness," she says, thankful her voice isn't as shaky as she expected it would be. She knows she should have said more but she can't, for everything she is worth, find other words to push out of her mouth.
The violet-eyed prince extended his arm to his side, silently beckoning Shirley to walk with him in that direction. Shirley is again hit with realisation that she had been expecting Lelouch to maybe offer her his hand like last time, to do anything that brought them closer together, seal the disheartening gap between them.
But here they were, walking together, an arm's length away from each other. At first Shirley assumed Lelouch would be keeping the formal act up until the guards were out of range but she could feel something in her chest coil tightly when they continued walking in silence even when they were by themselves.
Shirley decides to busy her spinning mind by trying to figure out where they were going. It was a challenge indeed, for all corridors of the palace bore great similarity. She can't tell if this was the way she'd taken when she was going to the garden where Nunnally had been waiting. She also can't tell if this was the way to Lelouch's chambers, because the way there was nothing but a blur as Lelouch had dragged her through it at maximum speed.
The prince's voice shakes Shirley from her thoughts. "You look lovely tonight," he says. His tone has shed some of the formal manner but he was still looking ahead.
Shirley feels her cheeks grow a bit, just a bit warm. Her outfit was chosen in haste, the prior hours all thoughts spinning and heart racing. She ended up going for a lime-green dress, with a jacket a few shades lighter.
Despite the overwhelming emotions she managed to mutter a reply. "So as you, Your Highness."
Lelouch stops walking.
Feeling a wave of nervousness crash on her, Shirley does the same. She was a couple of paces behind Lelouch, and being unable to see his face prevented her from figuring out just what was on the prince's mind. Shirley was about to speak up when she noticed Lelouch's hands flexing by his side, opening and closing before forming into a tight fist.
All of a sudden he turned around and grasped Shirley's shoulders, tightly. The act was so abrupt that Shirley could just barely stifle a yelp.
"I need to know," Lelouch gaps. "I wasn't planning on asking this soon but I need to know."
Already Shirley knows full well what Lelouch is going to ask.
It seems he knew that she knew the question, but he asked anyway. "Did you cough up any petals in the last three days?"
The words were whirling in Shirley's mind but none could come out of her mouth.
"Did you?" Lelouch asks again, growing more frantic by the second. He takes a deep breath before saying, "I didn't."
Shirley feels the floor tilt beneath her.
"I didn't cough up any petals, Shirley. The doctor even confirmed I was slowly healing." His eyes were locked with Shirley's, and his words were spoken with steel certainty, like he feared Shirley would doubt him. "I have been slowly healing since that day. I knew it from the start but now it's confirmed and I need to know, Shirley. Did you cough up any flower petals?"
When Shirley stays quiet Lelouch tightens his already tight grip on her shoulders.
She inhales. Exhales. Inhales again. Lelouch was coming more and more unhinged with every sound she made.
Shirley's mind was a mess. She couldn't begin to fathom the situation and even though her lips were sealed her heart was screaming the words:
I didn't. I didn't. I didn't—
I've been healing since that day, too.
It seemed so loud in her head, as if she was actually screaming the words yet she couldn't even part her lips. Suffice to say, it is totally unintended of her to make Lelouch misinterpret her silence.
His violet orbs widen. The quiver in his lips is mirrored in the shaking of his hands at Shirley's shoulders. "Please, Shirley," he says, his voice peculiarly low, tainted with something akin to defeat. "Please tell me it's you. It-it has to be you. Shirley, please."
It was the desperation that drowned over Lelouch that finally made Shirley get shaken back into her senses. The look of anguish was definitely not an ornament on the prince's handsome face, and the mere sight of it was enough to make Shirley's lips part and the words tumble out of her mouth.
"I didn't." Shirley's words are barely coherent, folded within a gasp. "I didn't. Not a single time."
Lelouch's hands let go of her shoulders, and she snatches them quickly before they can fall back to his side. She holds them tightly, returning the certainty Lelouch had been giving her earlier.
"It is me," Shirley affirms, her voice louder and surer, and, dare she say, sweeter. "It is me, Lelouch."
It was hard to believe this one moment passed right after that one. One moment Lelouch was standing, still as a statue, showing no reaction whatsoever to Shirley's words. The next he threw his body on hers, holding her tightly, as if she were going to disintegrate if he didn't keep her being together.
Then Shirley takes her own turn at playing statue.
Sure the prince had embraced her before, but this...
This was different.
It was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
The sensation was akin to standing in a wide, open field. Feeling gentle rays of sunlight warm her skin. Feeling soft grass under her feet. Inhaling the sweet scent of blooming flowers. Taking in one fresh breath after another, feeling her body grow more and more enraptured.
It was merriment Shirley would never even begin to imagine.
The overwhelming emotions control her arms, and they slowly wrap around Lelouch in return. Feeling the numbness escape her body, she begins to register Lelouch's own emotions. Even though he held Shirley tightly, his breath trembled. It was easy to hear in this proximity. Shirley could also clearly feel relief flooding through Lelouch, slowly easing his breathing and calming his body.
They hold each other for what feels like an eternity, and when Lelouch does pull away, the entire world feels different, from the floor they are standing on to the air entering their lungs. Their emeralds and amethysts lock together, and it feels like nothing, nothing exists other than the bond between them.
The chilly night finds Lelouch and Shirley walking in one of the palace's gardens, side by side, fingers intertwined. The air feels eerily different but it somehow made them content. The moonlight and cascade of stars added to the already overwhelming beauty of their surroundings, but Lelouch couldn't keep his eyes off Shirley. He rendered her more beautiful than any starry sky or numerous colourful flowers.
"So, Shirley," Lelouch begins. The walk out of the palace and so far into the garden had been quiet but was nevertheless enjoyable. Still Lelouch deems it important to converse. "You were at the royal ball?" He opens the topic as it is easily the first to come to his mind. He can't help but recall that wonderful time he fell in love after a mere glance at Shirley. Even though the experience bore the pain of the onset of the Hanahaki Disease, Lelouch was inexplicably fond of it.
A small, nervous laugh escapes Shirley. Her hand moves to the back of her head, sifting in her hair. It was like the topic evoked a displeasure in her, and Lelouch assumes it was not very pleasing indeed, considering a commoner like Shirley isn't accustomed to the way of the upper class.
"I was at the ball," Shirley says. "It really was as luxurious as everyone claims, but I couldn't find a reason to enjoy it. Something about not fitting in undoes it for me."
Lelouch tried to imagine things from Shirley's perspective. He might not be a commoner but he fully empathises with Shirley. He, undoubtedly, would also feel at least a bit uncomfortable when surrounded by people from an entirely different class than he is familiar with.
"If it's not a pleasurable experience, why would you attend?" Lelouch asks, a bit curious about Shirley's intentions.
"Oh, it's Milly. She always forces me into these kinds of things; experiences she is aware would disconcert me but believes would be great fun. She always says that nothing will go wrong if we stay together and, well... I just feel like it's her own quirky way of expressing love." Shirley smiles.
Lelouch finds her smile reflected on his own lips. "Quirky indeed. That's a perfect way to describe Milly. She seems to believe that life is but a carnival, that there is a parade in spite of any conditions."
"That's really her. I know Milly has affiliations with the royal family, but I wasn't aware you two are so close."
"We're as close as can be." Lelouch lightly shrugs. "My friendships are bound by strict rules. I can rarely invite commoners over, and I'm not allowed to step foot out the palace. I've asked many times to visit the academy you and Milly attend, Ashford Academy, but all my requests get denied."
"I see," Shirley says, sounding upset. For a small moment the sadness shows on her face, but she quickly shakes it off and that bright smile returns. "Well, just know that Ashford will welcome you at any time."
Lelouch was momentarily at a loss of words. The realistic approach to matters here in the royal family was so customary that Shirley's optimistic energy was strange to Lelouch. Though a part of him found it very endearing, mostly because he adored the sight of Shirley's smile.
"I'll keep that in mind." Lelouch smiles. It was surprising that the invisible promise of him going to Ashford actually made him happier. He doesn't dare to hope it would be a reality. Though he still asks, "What's it like at Ashford?"
"A never-ending carnival, of course, with Milly being the president of the student council," Shirley says.
Lelouch tries to imagine Milly's boisterous personality being taken out on an entire school campus, with a multitude of students being victims to her carnivals. He takes longer than a moment to find words. "That sounds... riveting."
"If by riveting you mean absolutely frightening then yes, very riveting."
Despite having never visited Ashford and witnessing whatever shenanigans Milly plots, Lelouch couldn't disagree.
"It's safe to say Milly's exuberance can be a handful to you and everyone at Ashford," Lelouch tightens his grip on Shirley's hand before continuing, "but I'm glad she got you to the royal ball." He deemed it somewhat adverse to take happiness in what was an unpleasant experience for Shirley, but he guessed that could be overlooked when they were together now, merriment overflowing them.
"I didn't think I would say this but I'm glad as well." Shirley is quiet for a moment. She stops walking and turns to Lelouch. Her cheeks are tinted a very, very light shade of pink. "Was it at royal ball? When you realised you..."
Were in love with me? Shirley doesn't continue the question but Lelouch perfectly gets it. He doesn't understand, though, why Shirley would lack the confidence to say the words, especially after everything the two of them have been through together.
"It was at the royal ball," Lelouch affirms.
Confusion splashes over Shirley. "But..." she seems to be searching for words. "How could I have won your heart over that night?" She lightly shakes her head, like she was saying something too illogical to be.
"All it had taken was a glance," Lelouch says without one bit of hesitation.
"But I... I was a mess that night! I was tense and no one would come near me and—my hair was in shambles some time into the evening and—"
"Shirley," Lelouch quiets the agitated ginger, both by a soft voice and a hand that moves to her face, gently cupping her cheek. "In all the years of my princely life I have been introduced to nothing but the finest of women, princesses and nobles from all over this land and several others. They were crafted with utmost perfection. The styling of their hair and clothes was second to none. Every inch of them was striking, enough to make just any man in the world get swept off his feet. And yet..." Lelouch's thumb moves over the bridge of Shirley's nose, feeling her cheekbones, the craft of her face as those bright emeralds locked with his own eyes. "You are the only one who managed to capture my heart."
The only sound Shirley made was the intake of a shaky breath.
"It didn't matter that your dress wasn't lined with jewels or that your hair fell in some places," Lelouch continues. "Because when I laid my eyes on you, the only thing that grasped my attention was the compassion you were radiating. I could see with my own eyes that you had a kind, pure soul. And it was enough to envelope me in thorny vines and bloody petals."
The taint on Shirley's cheeks deepens into red. She stares at Lelouch in shock for so, so long. It was just when Lelouch thought she wouldn't be getting out of this state anytime soon that that unbelievably bright smile captivated her lips. Lelouch found it uncanny how Shirley could only go so long without that smile on her lips. It was like she simply couldn't keep the smile at bay, like the world would implode if she were to go more than one or two moments without smiling. It makes Lelouch's heart skitter.
The words finally come to Shirley. "I never thought... No, I never dared to think, that this would be a reality." She shakes her head, looking close to tears.
"It is a reality, Shirley," Lelouch says, before leaning down and kissing her.
And that smile was truly as soft as it looked.
It felt like Lelouch was eating soft candy, the sweetness flooding his mouth. Shirley was frozen for a moment, before starting to kiss back. Even with all its passion the kiss was short, but in Lelouch's head it felt like a lifetime. And, if he could, he would spend a lifetime kissing Shirley.
They slowly break apart and lock their eyes together. Lelouch was immersed in that same beautiful yet foreign feeling. The feeling he would never, no matter how much he tried, be able to figure out. While the unfamiliarity was unfavourable, Lelouch didn't render it a necessity to figure out this feeling. Despite everything he enjoyed it with every inch of his being.
Then a cascade of chuckles escapes him and Shirley, mixing together and the sound resembles an angelic symphony. Lelouch loops an arm around her waist as they both continue their walk in the moonlight.
They walk for a while, engulfed in a strangely comfortable silence. It was comfortable because even though their mouths were shut their hearts were singing. The only addition of sounds was the splashing of water when they had neared a fountain. It was then that Lelouch decided to put an end to the silence.
"You know, Shirley," he says, and the ginger turns to him. "This might surprise you but I'm not that fond of royal balls myself."
Shirley gapes at him. "Really?"
"It's true. The way of the upper class when it comes to partying is not really my idea of an enjoyable time."
"I never thought I'd hear those words from someone who is a member of the upper class."
Lelouch laughs. "I just find these parties meaningless, only one more way of the royal family to show off its wealth. They try to find any valid reason to throw a party, and will still throw one even if there isn't a reason; they party for the sake of partying. Hell, I wouldn't have been surprised if they had thrown a party to celebrate my falling in love if weren't for the accompanying of a fatal disease."
Shirley says, "I don't think that's far from possible either."
"However," Lelouch says, louder this time, as he takes a couple of steps in front of Shirley and turns his body towards her, not letting go of her hand. "You managed to make the previous royal ball a really special day for me." He smiles at her. This giddy attitude was nowhere near close to his usual self. It felt so unlike him but he was strangely finding comfort in it.
"You can say it was a special day for the two of us." Shirley smiles back. "Although I find it weird such is the case, since we hadn't even approached each other." She pauses in thought for a moment. "I don't think I saw you at all, actually..."
"I do have a habit of distancing myself from everyone at parties. People just hop on any opportunity to get all in my business and it can be really bothersome, to a greater extent the times someone tries to get romantic with me." Lelouch just barely holds back a shudder.
"You do have a lot of admirers, Lelouch."
The prince shrugs. "I could never return any of the appeal they offer. I've never been interested in untrue love. I forced the rule upon myself to avoid encounters to spare both myself and the other party from any undesirable course." Lelouch pauses, once again remembering the way Shirley made him feel when she had caught his attention. "Although I wouldn't have minded if you had approached me," he says carefully, testing the words as they tumble past his lips. It's true the prince is never at his best during balls and parties. Could an encounter with Shirley at the time have been the same as now?
"I am not so sure I would have approached you had I spotted you. Feelings aside, I am not keen on approaching royalties, and it's the same the other way around. I just don't know how to hold a conversation with them, and I have a constant fear of being asked for a dance. Am I even allowed to reject that?"
"Of course you're allowed to. The person might get offended but that has nothing to do with you not wanting to dance and everything with their bone-headed egotism. They have no right to force you into it, social differences be damned." Lelouch is quiet for a moment. "But why would you be afraid of being asked for a dance?"
A rosy taint adorns Shirley's cheeks. "Oh I... I don't know how to dance..." she says in a low voice.
"That's not something you should be ashamed of. It makes no less than perfect sense to not know something you weren't taught." Lelouch tips his head, a new thought forming in his mind. "Although if you want to completely dispel your fear..." The words leave his mouth no later than he pulls Shirley closer.
Shirley tips her head up, her green orbs widened.
"The formal dances are actually a lot easier that they look like," Lelouch says, putting a hand on Shirley's waist and pulling her even closer. He then takes her other hand in his, and lifts it in the air. He was barely done with fixing their postures before Shirley spoke up.
"But Lelouch I..." She tries to shrink away but Lelouch tightens his grip on her hand and waist. He hoped the action was as reassuring as he viewed. "I really have no experience with dance."
"You're about to." Lelouch's warm assurance is better implied in his voice.
"But I can't—"
"Just look into my eyes," he interrupts, his hand moving from her waist up to her face, gently tilting it up just a bit to connect their eyes, before going back. "I'll guide you."
Shirley doesn't voice further disagreement but Lelouch waits a few extra moments before beginning.
Despite how rarely he dances, the prince's movements are flawless, at the responsibility of the extensive royal training. He takes the perfectly measured steps forward and backward, to this side and that side, with the smoothness of water running down a pebble river. His moves were, however, rendered disharmonised due to Shirley's ones, which were shaky and distorted. For the sake of easing the teaching process Lelouch started off with a pace much slower than typical, and gradually increased it as they went.
Shirley's greens are locked with Lelouch's violets. At first she would cast nervous glances at her feet every other second, but it appears that Lelouch's command would ring in her mind, for she always lifted her eyes again to look at the boy's own. Lelouch could feel her unease slowly crumble away with every step they took together. Even though the dance was simple enough, Lelouch could still tell she was a quick learner.
It isn't long before Shirley found a grip on consistency, and her moves become more even and smooth. She looks down to her feet, which are moving in perfect harmonisation with Lelouch's. Then she looks up again, astonishment painted on her face. Lelouch lightly chuckles.
"See? You're perfect at this," Lelouch says, just barely louder than a whisper.
Shirley shakes her head in amazement. "I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm actually dancing." She lightly laughs.
Lelouch considers her words for an extra moment. "I've come to take it that it's the things we can't believe would ever happen that turn into reality." He takes in a chilly breath when Shirley's hand moves from his shoulder to his neck, fiddling with the long onyx locks at his nape. The gesture was unfamiliar and overwhelming, making something spark in his chest.
It isn't long before Lelouch finds himself leaning closer and closer, pressing his lips against Shirley's. The kiss is tender and soothing, like the evening breeze.
Ever one to figure things out to the smallest of details, Lelouch finds himself wondering how long he's waited for this, and just what this is. He knows for a fact he wasn't waiting for the springing of this weird sensation in his chest, for the rushing of his blood, for the surfacing of this mysterious, underlying desire. He never knew any of these existed in the first place. But what he is sure of is that his whole world had lacked colour before he met Shirley, that most things around him never harboured so much meaning. From the air entering his lungs and soothing his body to the blood-red petals of roses, everything around Lelouch changed and in a magnificent way he never dared to dream of.
Lelouch was introduced to a new world. A world brighter than he'd ever known. And now that he's seen it, he wants to never let go of it. He wants to never let go of Shirley.
He breaks the dancing stance to wrap his arms around the ginger-haired girl. His arms are tired from the dancing but he nonetheless finds immense force to hold her with. He h0lds her tightly, lest everything break away and this reveals to be something other than reality. It was only the press of their lips and bodies against each other that kept affirming Lelouch that this is real. Shirley puts her hands on either side of Lelouch's face, and the prince suspected she needed some affirmation herself. Her grip wasn't particularly soft, either.
This is real, they kept telling each other, even though they weren't talking. The way they held each other conveyed the words more than saying them would.
This is real.
You are real, what we have is real—
Our love is the realest of all.
The night sky had turned the darkest shade of blue by the time Lelouch and Shirley broke apart and, after walking just a bit more, decided on taking a pause (and not just because Lelouch was weary from all the walking.) The late, tranquil hours of the night found the two of them standing on a bridge over a small lake, flowers wrapped around every corner surrounding them. The still air was rather enticing, it made Lelouch almost not want to break the silence.
Fortunately, Shirley spoke up first. Unfortunately, her voice had some unease to it.
"I have to say it, Lelouch." She pauses for a moment, lightly shrugging and shaking her head, like she couldn't find words to say. "This is by far the most spectacular night of my life."
It was nice to hear the words, yet Lelouch was concerned for Shirley's unease. "I can definitely agree," he says.
Shirley goes quiet again, but it was the faltering of her smile that crumbled Lelouch's composure and made his concern soar. He covers Shirley's hand with his own, but the action only did so much to calm them both.
"See, Lelouch... This night is fantastic, but... What about when the night is over?" She shakes her head again, and for a moment it looked like she was about to turn to Lelouch but couldn't face him.
Lelouch's hand flies to Shirley's chin, gently moving it so their faces can meet. The prince feels something coil tightly in his chest when he sees the melancholy painted on her face. "What do you mean when the night is over?" he asks, and is shocked at how low his voice is.
"I mean what's going to happen when we both lay in our beds tonight?" Shirley steps away from Lelouch but doesn't look away. "What will happen tomorrow morning? Tomorrow night? The next few days? The next week and month and— Us? What is going to happen to us?"
"Us?" Lelouch echoes the word. The disbelief is like an invisible hand wrapping around his throat. "We're together now, Shirley. We're together and we're in love and—"
"We're together now, Lelouch." The emerald-eyed girl shakes her head again. "Now when there's nothing that can keep us apart. But what about when we step back into our separate worlds and all these obstacles throw themselves in our way?"
"We'll get rid of them," Lelouch replies without missing a beat. He's been telling himself the same words every moment. There were many things that told him what he has with Shirley is impossible to keep, and Lelouch easily dismissed them with sheer determination. But when it was Shirley herself saying that this is impossible, Lelouch couldn't be so determined anymore.
"So you'll invite me over to the palace every now and then. You'll hope your request won't be denied. You'll beg to visit Ashford academy once more, only to have that rejected as well. I'll be invited to every other party and royal ball. We'll write letters to each other and hope our communication would be allowed in the first place." A small, barely audible laugh escapes Shirley. "Is that the kind of relationship you want, Lelouch?"
The words stung Lelouch like thorny vines digging into his skin. It hurt because every single word was nothing but true.
Lelouch shakes his head, as if he were telling his own thoughts to stop stating the truth. "I don't care what kind of relationship it is as long as it's with you."
"But that's—"
"Because I love you, Shirley." The words jump out of Lelouch's mouth with extreme force. The raven-haired boy feels his heart drop when he sees Shirley's eyes glistening.
"I love you too. I love you so much, so much that it's the reason I'm doing this." It was when she finished those words that a small tear trickled past her eye.
"No..." Lelouch can barely find his voice in the midst of the lumping in his throat. "No..." he repeats. He can't seem to find any other word to say.
"Yes, Lelouch." More tears stream out of Shirley's eyes. "I can't put you through this."
"But Shirley..." Lelouch was truly at a loss for words.
He couldn't find any counterarguments, simply because there were none. Everything Shirley said made perfect sense, and it didn't take a big brain to have that much figured out. Still, Lelouch couldn't accept this.
Not after...
Not after everything he went through. After the painful attacks and bloody petals.
"I can't accept this!" Lelouch finds himself yelling the words before he was able to even think about doing so.
Despite Lelouch's growing agitation, Shirley was as placid as ever. There was even a small smile on her lips. Lelouch just didn't know how she could find it in herself to smile. Was her purity really that powerful?
"Believe me, Lelouch," Shirley says as she cups Lelouch's face in her hands. Lelouch immediately covers the hands with his own. The action was out of love, out of fear, out of overflowing emotions. "This night was just magical. It was everything I ever wished for and even more. It was things I didn't dare to wish for, even. It was a dream come true. A dream I never, not in a million years, thought would ever be true. But that's the thing with dreams: even in all their beauty they end at some point."
At the last words, Shirley drops her hands.
And Lelouch feels something deep inside him curl up and die.
He tries and tries and tries, but he just can't find any flaw to Shirley's words. He was desperate, so desperate, but all he had heard was just part of the harsh, unchangeable reality.
He only stares, his body frozen from head to toe. Even his brain felt frozen. Yet in all the numbness that captivated the prince, he could feel something small tingling his cheek. It was a weird feeling, and mostly so because he knows he felt it before but can't seem to figure out what it is. He rakes his mind till he remembers he felt it in the midst of those burning coughs and climbing petals.
It was a tear running down his cheek.
Lelouch was crying.
The Dark Prince, infamous for donning a mask and cloaking himself with a cold attitude, known for harbouring immunity to feelings...
...was crying.
Was standing still as a statue, vulnerable to the simple thing that is reality.
"I just wish there was a way to forget," Shirley sobs. "To make it easier to move on... To make it— to make it hurt less."
Lelouch inhales a chilly, shaky breath.
He is surprised when the words leave his mouth, because he still can't find his voice. He feels like his mouth is full of sand.
"There is a way."
Shirley's head jerks to face Lelouch, her green orbs wide.
"There is a way," Lelouch repeats, feeling his mouth become less numb. "We can..." He tries to shut his mouth. He tries to keep the words inside because he shouldn't say them.
He shouldn't be looking into any option other than indulging in the love he has with Shirley.
He shouldn't give up.
"We can go for the surgery." He shouldn't give up!
The prince felt like a puppet, being forced into actions he didn't want to commit. If it was his mind controlling him, then what was screaming at him to do the complete opposite of what he is doing?
Could it be that his heart is doing all the screaming? Was it even possible for it to scream like that? So loudly, so fiercely, so desperately...
"The surgery?" Shirley gapes at the boy in front of her. "That can't be. Our feelings have been returned."
"It's possible." Lelouch can barely hear himself over the rushing of his blood in his ears. "I asked my doctor about it. The surgery can be done even after the feelings are returned, before the flower can fully disappear."
The silence thickens the air around them. Reality was beginning to fully dawn on them.
Shirley smiles again, only now it doesn't seem as melancholic. "I'm glad," she says, her voice barely audible, "that now it won't hurt so much."
Lelouch breathes again, trying to dispel his numbness.
Was this really what they have come to?
Was it really just a small while ago that they were kissing and laughing without a care in the world?
Was it really impossible for them to chase away the obstacles between them?
After all that's happened. After being held in the harsh hands of the Hanahaki Disease. After every strange encounter and unanswered question. Everything that has happened since the day the flower first bloomed.
Was it all just for a mere few hours of being in their own little world?
Be it a few hours or a few lifetimes, Lelouch will cherish every single second he spends with Shirley.
The future of their love might be taken away, but this won't be.
Lelouch feels the force coursing in his blood as he pulls Shirley into his arms and crashes their lips together. All the times he'd held her earlier were nothing compared to this. He was holding her so, so tightly, he could feel pain in his muscles. He could also feel Shirley's arms wrapping around his neck, with just as great force. Their kiss isn't a sweet gentle exchange like earlier, either. This kiss is fervent, desperate, like they wanted the memory of each other's lips to be eternally engraved into their minds.
After a while Shirley puts a hand to Lelouch's chest and slowly pushes him away. He was aware that the kissing was significantly cutting off their breathing but he didn't think it could be to the extent that he would be pushed away.
Shirley takes a moment to regain her breathing. "You know, Lelouch..." she lightly pants. "I never believed that the surgery could completely make someone forget their feelings. So they remove the flower, but it is really more than just ending the disease? Is it really possible to remove the feelings the person has buried deep in their heart?"
"Shirley..."
"That won't happen to me, Lelouch. Nothing will make me forget you. Not this surgery or any other one or— or anything. Nothing will make me forget this. A part of me will always remember you, Lelouch."
Lelouch seals their lips together again. It was only a few moments that their mouths were apart but it felt like eons. He wants to cherish every last moment. Who knows if he will feel this sensation in his chest ever again.
It was the hardest period of time in the prince's life. The random attacks, the fatigues. The screams that flew out of his mouth in the middle of the night. The fact that he was forced to stay away from his beloved sister. The agitation in how he could collapse at any given moment. The knowing that he was slowly dying, slowly being choked to death.
It was pain unlike he had ever known. And at the end this long, arduous path he struggled through was just a few hours to spend with Shirley.
It was uncanny, but perhaps what was most uncanny was that he'd go through it all again.
Again and again and again.
If it was all for a few hours, a few moments, even, he'd do it again.
The kiss is broken once more when Lelouch leans away. "I don't regret it," he says. Shirley stares at him with wide eyes and parted lips.
"I don't regret it at all." He feels many tears run down the sides of his face. He kisses Shirley again, and holds her with all might he has left in his being.
"I don't regret falling in love with you."
Lelouch is standing in an open field, the serene sky stretched above him and the green ground under him. His body feels eerily numb, but his head is spinning round and round. Not only does he want answers, but he also wants to know what questions he is asking in the first place. It was like trying to recognise a melody without hearing the melody in the first place.
Despite the utterly confusing state of mind he is in, Lelouch's body is unbelievably calm. He feels... freshened. It's like his body had never experienced anything unpleasant in a long, long time. Tranquillity is running through his veins. The contradiction between the state of his mind and that of his body is indeed exasperating, nonetheless Lelouch can't dispel the calmness in him.
The prince slowly scans his surroundings. Disconcert tries to plant itself in him upon seeing the endless plain rolling around him, as far as his eyes can see and maybe even further. He tries focusing his senses but they are much too enervated to help him figure out where he is. In these wisps of unease a part of Lelouch decides that the situation he is in is not as bad as he perceives it to be. In any case he can stay indulged in this serenity. It feels like eons since he's last been relaxed, as if he had been trapped in a prison of languor this whole time. He can just rejoice in rejuvenating, and it seems like he has plenty of time to do that.
But it is just when he takes the decision that Lelouch hears a rustle behind him.
Abruptly, Lelouch's body is successful at dispelling a bit of the calmness. At the speed of light he turns around, searching for the source of sound. Again, all his eyes can see is the plain ground stretching in front of him, but when he focuses his vision on the farthest point, he notices something.
Or rather, someone.
Lelouch immediately takes to a chase, before even trying to guess who it is he is chasing. Something deep inside him screams that who he is chasing shouldn't be this far from him, should be right by his side. Lelouch trusts this gut feeling, despite not knowing where it came from.
He runs and runs, and doubts his distance perception is sound because the person seems to be going further away with every step he takes. "Wait!" he shouts.
The person turns to Lelouch and again his perception fails him, as he can just barely make out the person in front of him. He couldn't see any features to help him with identification. He continues running nonetheless. He doesn't know if he imagined it, but the person seemed to be running towards him as well.
But, even as the two desperately ran towards each other, the distance between them didn't decrease. It was as if with every step they took forward the world took one backward. Lelouch's heartbeat escalates as something in the back of his mind screams that this can't be allowed. He lets the determination take over him as he breaks into an even faster sprint.
If he has to run with the world himself holding him back, then so be it.
Maybe his willpower was playing tricks on him, but as Lelouch let his feet slam onto the ground one after another, he seemed to be getting closer and closer. It seems to be an effort from the other person as well. It was clear Lelouch's desperation was mutual, whoever this person may be.
The distance growing shorter did nothing to calm Lelouch's erratic heartbeat. He was convinced he won't simmer down in the slightest until he was right next to this person. At this distance he could barely make out the person's face. The features remained a blur in his mind and it strengthened his resolve somehow. He could, however, see long hair flying as the person ran. Was she a girl? As Lelouch processes the information he takes note of the dress she dons, and he was slowly coming to recognise her.
The girl shoots a hand forward. Without thinking Lelouch does the same. They were close now, almost within reach of each other. All they had to do was —
The ground fiercely shakes and Lelouch falls with a small grunt. Before he can even find leverage he extends his arm in reach for the girl. Again, she does the same, and he could almost feel their fingertips brushing.
Then something wraps around Lelouch's limbs, yanking him backwards. "No!" he shouts as he tries to wrestle his way forward again. His muscles scream in pain as something pierces his skin. He hisses and feels his heart climb up to his throat when he glances at his arms.
He thought the thorny vines were gone. Thought that he would never experience this pain again. Yet here they were, digging into his skin and making blood pour out. But it was more than just that; previously, the vines only kept him in place, but now they were pulling him away.
Once he can see through the blur in his vision Lelouch sees the vines wrap around the girl, too. She, too, was trying to break free but is as successful as Lelouch is. Cries of protest fly out of Lelouch's mouth as he tries and tries to fight but his efforts are futile, and with a fierce tug he is yanked away from the girl.
More cries and screams exit his mouth but a choking silence captivates him when he sees the girl fade out of sight. Before he could take a breath his surroundings shattered. The sun and sky were no more, and instead of the open field Lelouch finds himself in an abyss of darkness he is familiar with.
His first impulse is to cry again, but his moth refuses to make a single sound. His whole body shakes in agitation and he examines the unending darkness around him. Dread fills him up to the very corners of his chest.
He can't be back here.
How can it be that all this changed in a span of a few moments?
Lelouch refuses to accept this.
The violet-eyed boy shuts his eyes as he inhales a shaky breath.
When he opens them again, he will see light. He will be out of this abyss. He will not take otherwise. He will not lose hope.
The light will be there when he opens his eyes.
Lelouch's mind awakens a mere moment before his body does. As short-lived as it was, panic captivated the boy. His eyelids feel extremely heavy, and he momentarily considers slipping back into unconsciousness. Come to think of it, there is a heavy sensation in his whole body, not only his eyes. His panic subsides and makes room for resolve.
He knows that light will greet him when he opens his eyes. He won't be in that dark abyss. That is guaranteed.
There will be light.
It takes tremendous effort, but the prince parts his eyelids, and rays of light fall upon his orbs. A small gasp escapes his mouth, and immediately pain splashes over him, as small as the action was. He tries to sit up but before he could move an inch, something keeps him in place. He gasps again at the light weight at his chest and turns to look to his side. Through his blurry vision, he can barely become conscious of the person by his side, his eyes immediately taking in golden hair and sapphire orbs.
"Clovis?" Before even giving himself a chance to be confused, Lelouch tries to get up again.
But Clovis's hand presses with just a little extra weight as he says, "Don't. Just stay down, please. You haven't fully recovered yet." Maybe Lelouch's hearing was as feeble as his sight, but Clovis's words were soft-spoken, laden with concern.
This time the violet-eyed boy allows himself to be confused. He was about to ask several questions, mostly about what it is that he hasn't recovered from, but first he takes a moment to ground himself. He shuts his eyes, and for some reason his lungs sting when he tries to take a deep breath. He feels the throbbing in his head slowly subside, and opens his eyes again.
His vision is clearer now, though all there was to stare at was a pure white ceiling. Even as he turns his head, there wasn't much to look at. The only attraction to his attention in this entire plain room was his siblings sitting by his side.
He tries raking his brains for any recalling of what happened to him but he finds nothing. Nonetheless he can guarantee that it was lamentable; it was obvious from the melancholic glances his siblings gave him.
"How are you feeling?" A voice calls and again Lelouch questions the strength of his hearing; the voice was very low. Said boy turns to greet a very sad Euphemia. Joyful, high-spirited Euphemia, was now staring at her brother with heartbreak painted on her face.
Lelouch tries to guess just what in the world would be grievous enough to have his sister's bright, persistent smile vanish. Unable to look at the dejected Euphemia, his eyes will themselves to look away. He tries to glance at any of his other siblings instead, but no one seems to harbour any sentiment other than sadness. Even Nunnally, who was sleeping on a small couch opposite Lelouch, seemed upset.
Said boy fixes his eyes on the ceiling again, and wills his heart to stop jumping around his chest. Taking a deep breath to clear his thoughts, Lelouch immediately begins coughing. There was a collective jump from his brothers and sisters. Clovis gently holds Lelouch and helps his recline his back, a hand slowly moving up and down the violet-eyed boy's back in soothing manner. To his other side, Schneizel offers a glass of water, which Lelouch, feeling a fire rage in his throat, gladly accepts. He was only able to take a couple of gulps before the pain in his throat became too much to tolerate. Light pants escape his mouth when the glass moves away from his lips.
Concern lingers among them. Several moments pass before Euphemia, Schneizel and Cornelia are able to take their seats again. Clovis, on the other hand, keeps standing next to Lelouch, a hand supporting Lelouch's back.
"The doctor said that your wounds will take some time to fully heal," the third prince says, "but the pain should be going away soon."
Wounds. Heal. Recover. Lelouch couldn't understand those words, despite knowing exactly what they mean. He turns to look at Clovis, who stares back at him in a peculiar mix of both concern and assurance. Weirdly, a small memory sparks in Lelouch's mind; this was the exact look Clovis had given him when...
Lelouch feels his heart and guts cement inside his body.
He had gone for the surgery.
Puzzle pieces fell into place, filling the empty void of Lelouch's mind. His siblings dispelling his fear, despite being fearful themselves. Nunnally crying by his side, begging him to change his mind. The doctors asking him time and again if he was completely sure of his decision.
But why can't Lelouch remember what he felt like? Why were all the memories coming back to him concerning other people? As much as he wants to figure out just what he felt before going to the surgery, Lelouch doubts he had been feeling anything in the first place. The flashbacks in his mind feel like they are from an inanimate object's point of view; there was no mental or emotional correlation whatsoever.
He felt like he was sinking in the bottom of the ocean; surrounded by so much, yet feeling so little. He knows, knows that there's something he hasn't forgotten, something still in his mind, even if it is buried deep down. It is undoubtedly there.
Lelouch isn't aware he straightened his back until he feels Clovis drop his hands.
"You really don't... remember anything?" his brother's words are torn between a question and a statement.
But that can't be the case. Lelouch definitely remembers.
That one thing surfaces in his mind. Makes its way to his mouth. Parts his lips to roll out—
But the prince stays silent. He isn't even aware that his mouth is hung open until he slowly shuts it again.
But no, that's not the case. Lelouch has something to say.
He opens his mouth again, but again no words come out.
He was about to say it, but it suddenly slipped away. It was right in his grasp but was suddenly out of his reach.
The only sound to be heard is Clovis dropping back on the couch next to Euphemia, a sigh fleeing from his mouth. The atmosphere was suffocating, or maybe it was just Lelouch, whose throat still felt like an arid desert.
"I don't get it," Euphemia says, and the sharp tone that has never before coated her sweet voice makes everyone turn to her in shock. "How? How can someone not love you back?" She sounded close to tears, her hands fisting the fabric of her gown.
"What's worse is that news of your encounter with the disease has had more media coverage than anything the past while," Schneizel adds. "Needless to say, the person you loved definitely received information of it, and despite being aware of the pain you went through, the feelings weren't returned." His lilac eyes are narrowed, fixed to the floor as if the white tiles had the answers to his questions.
Clovis flashes a look of distaste towards his brother. "Funny you should say that, considering you did the exact same thing to Kanon." No one even bothers to explain to him that Schneizel was not the person Kanon was in love with. They've had that conversation dozens of times, but Clovis was not getting any less convinced.
"I was aware that he Hanahaki Disease takes a toll with its victims," Cornelia says, "but I never imagined you'd be subject to so much agony."
"Th-This is not just the disease..." Euphemia's voice is tainted with remorse and, dare her siblings say, anger. "It's the cruelty of the people."
"Indeed, some people are just heartless. Being unaware of the pain you put people through is one thing, but being both aware and unwilling to stop it is just inhumane." Clovis fixes his sympathetic gaze on Lelouch, but not before sneering at Schneizel.
Cruel. Heartless. Inhumane. The words make Lelouch's blood rush. His being fills with agitation as a strong feeling of dissent manifests inside him, the sudden wanting to defend the person his siblings are deprecating. He doesn't understand why despite having no memories of this person, he is more than sure his siblings are incorrect in every aspect. It wasn't cruelty or heartlessness that left Lelouch fighting the disease in agony. It was something else. He knows it.
Before he can transform his raging thoughts into words, Lelouch opens his mouth. His intake of breath, as inaudible as it was, makes his brothers and sisters fall quiet, their pitying gazes landing on him.
It takes him a few tries to find his voice. "It wasn't like that..." he murmurs, his voice like fractured glass. Although his eyes are fixed on the white sheets covering him, he is aware of his siblings exchanging unnerved glances.
"I don't know what it was like," Lelouch admits before his siblings can contradict him. "But I know it was different."
Silence envelopes the princes and princesses. Lelouch's persistence prevails, even though he can easily tell that his siblings are questioning his beliefs, even in their silence. When a rustle breaks the silence, Lelouch moves his eyes to Euphemia, who smiles at him through the small tears in her eyes.
"I can't imagine how strong your love was, to keep you from thinking ill of the person you had feelings for, even after all you've went through." The pink-haired princess shakes her head. Her smile widens as she says, "Someday you'll find a person who returns your love with equal strength. It's what you deserve." Everyone voices their agreement spare the one whom these words were directed to.
"I'd say this person was never worthy of your love," Schneizel speaks. "You may have caught those feelings for a reason but they can be disregarded after what you were put through. As Euphy said, you will someday find another person, who will be truly worthy of your love."
"We don't know when this someday will be, but know that in the mean time"—Clovis reaches for a nearby table on which a large basket sits—"you have us." He hands the basket to Lelouch, smiling.
Lelouch pulls the basket onto his lap. Poking around the contents, he is unable to hold a small smile back. He haphazardly scans the wishes scribbled on the glittery cards, some ribbons and confetti, but what does grab his attention is the chocolate wrappers, that are actually filled with chocolate this time. He takes a chocolate between his fingers and turns to Clovis, lifting an eyebrow.
The third prince shrugs. "You need them more than I do."
A sound between a scoff and a laugh shakes through Lelouch as he puts the chocolate back into place. He took comfort in the fact that no matter what agonising episodes he has, the people closest to him will never change. And so, he is able to meet their eyes, one by one, as he says, "Thank you guys, for being by my side. I know I'm not the best at showing it but..." He swallows hard before continuing, lest he choke on the next words. "I really appreciate it."
He is greeted with several smiles, and is grateful when the knot in his stomach loosens. He dares to hope that brighter days are coming.
Euphemia leans closer to the bed and reaches for her brother's hand. "We are in this with you, Lelouch." Her grip on Lelouch's hand is as soft as her voice.
"We share both your happiness and your agony," Schneizel says. "Do remember that well."
"And we share the hopes of you finding your other half," Clovis adds, reaching for the basket and helping himself with some chocolate. "Or maybe it's just me who was excited about having another sister-in-law."
Lelouch vi Britannia Undergoes Surgery For The Hanahaki Disease
"After the enduring period in which he fought for life, His Highness was left with no choice but to go for the surgery to treat the Hanahaki Disease. We have received information that His Highness awoke earlier this morning, and are being assured that he is being provided with the best of medication to speed his recovery and guarantee his wellbeing. While we lament that His Highness emerged fruitless from this journey, we thank the heavens that he sustained himself even after the battle with the deadly disease. Our sorrows are short-cut as we revel in the hopes of His Highness succeeding at finding his love, which doesn't seem far from reality given His Highness's charming and beguiling nature. Other information we have received is that a party will be thrown to celebrate His Highness's recovery..."
The words don't enter Shirley's ear and instead float in the air around her. So far she has been dismissing the spurts of confusion that randomly greet her, knowing they are just a lingering effect from the surgery she had last week. But now her mind is thrown into shambles as she watches the news about Prince Lelouch's own journey with the disease. She doesn't know what correlation exists between the two phenomena yet her head keeps spinning round and round.
Maybe it was just her imagination, but some things around her abruptly make very little sense. Without thinking she turns to the windowsill on the far wall in her room. It has become more than natural for her to land her gaze there often. The ginger might not know every last thing in her room, but she knows quite well this red rose was never there. It was like the rose had just popped into existence, and then existed perfectly. She doesn't remember when or how she attained the rose, but was still enchanted by it. There was a feel to it she couldn't point her fingers on but enjoyed nonetheless.
She doesn't know what the rose has to do with any of this, but one similarity it bears to this situation is that Shirley can't seem to fully understand it, no matter how much she tries to. Though there wasn't much to understand; the rose was simply on the windowsill. Prince Lelouch underwent the surgery. Shirley herself did. That was all that needed to be known. Still, Shirley can't help but feel like something is missing, like she's staring at a wonderful picture in puzzle pieces with only a single piece missing. Even though the whole picture is beautiful, that one missing piece's absence changes everything.
She keeps her eyes on the rose for a long, long moment, before the bubbly blonde sitting on her bed grabs her attention. Milly sways a lavish, glittery gown in each hand, one lilac and one blue. A massive grin decorated her face.
"Well, Shirley? It's not an easy choice, but you'll need to pick a dress for the party."
There is plenty Lelouch detests when it comes to the royal life, but the spotlight will always shine on balls and parties.
One would think that the most suitable way to rejoice in the prince's recovery would be making him rest, not throw a huge party late into the night. It's like his recovery was used as a mere excuse to throw a party, which doesn't seem out of place.
Now he makes the best of the little time he has left before the party starts. All while his brothers and sisters were scurrying around in last-minute preparations, Lelouch was doing what should be done in the lounge: lounging. It is something he has been doing quite often these days. It feels like an eternity since he's last been able to relax his whole body like this, since he went without fear of attacks and losing consciousness at any second.
"Can I open my eyes now?" he asks.
"Just a moment..." Quiet rustles are heard before Nunnally continues, "Here it is!"
Lelouch's orbs are greeted with the 'little surprise' his sister had in the making. With featherlike fingers, he takes the elegantly folded paper into his hands, gazing in admiration. "A paper crane?"
Nunnally eagerly nods. "It's a symbol of never losing hope, even when things get too hard. I figured that you going for the surgery is not you ending your chance at finding love, but is you creating a new chance." She traces her finger onto the wing of the crane, locking her eyes with her brother's. "I'm sure there is a wonderful person out there, waiting for you."
An astonishingly rare phenomenon occurs: Lelouch is caught off guard. He never expects anything but utmost kindness from his sister, but he didn't know what she would make of him treating the Hanahaki Disease with the surgery. Nunnally had stirred a small while after Lelouch awoke, and they were left alone to talk. He knew she did not want him to go for the surgery. Or rather, did not want him to give up. Lelouch didn't know what to expect when they had the chance to talk but Nunnally was happy to the point of tears, emphasising that her brother's wellbeing is above all.
Lelouch's shock subsides with a light laugh as he pulls his sister into his arms. "And I'm sure you are the most wonderful person to exist, Nunnally." He presses a kiss against her forehead.
Nunnally nestles against Lelouch. She lifts her head to look at him when she says, "There's one more thing!" Her hands envelope Lelouch's, along with the crane. "It is said that when you fold a thousand of those, your wish will come true. Maybe if we do that, we can wish that you find your true love!"
"It does seem like we will have to experiment with a myth or two to have Lelouch find his true love," Clovis approaches, his ivory jacket and golden locks swaying with him.
Lelouch can't keep himself from rolling his eyes but he does hold a sigh of irritation back, which seems very admirable from his side. Euphemia, Cornelia and Schneizel also close in, leaving the eleventh prince surprised to be the centre of attention for once.
"Folding a thousand paper cranes does seem like a trial, but not something we won't be able to do," Euphemia says, propping down next to Nunnally.
"I believe the individual has to fold all thousand paper cranes, or should there be restrictions if we were all to share the task?" Schneizel narrows his eyes at the paper crane.
"Looks like we'll have to do some research on that." Euphemia gently grabs the paper crane and turns it around, looking from every angle.
"I don't believe that would be necessary." Lelouch waves a hand at his siblings. He would have gotten up if Nunnally wasn't still in his arms.
Clovis throws his hands into the air. "He doesn't even want to try," he says as if complaining to the heavens.
A smile that bears all what a smile shouldn't holds Lelouch's lips. He decides to remove himself from the rest of the conversation, only sparing a few glances as his siblings gather around the paper crane, throwing admiring statements and a few questions.
And help the Dark Prince, for he is never able to let such thoughts be exposed, but decides that his siblings might just see that he only deems search for love unnecessary because he is already surrounded by it.
That scene Lelouch had with his siblings, if anything, helped him through half of the party. Small chats with his brothers, some dancing with his sisters. They helped compensate for the torment the rest of the night carried. Lelouch can't even count how many women he's been forced to smile at, how many oaths and declarations of love, promises that these women will end his suffering he's been forced to listen to. The prince thought a proper way of showing gratitude would be giving him space, not throw at him more and more of what he's fed up with.
The talks of love coming from every corner drain Lelouch's already scarce patience, and he is already making his way out of the room, his knight right behind him. He always knew that being royalty would strip him of his freedom of choice but never imagined it would reach this extent. He uses all his effort to keep a scowl from forming on his face as he walks.
This felt more of a party in honour of anyone else more than it felt to him. Few people have actually been concerned with his health more than of his availability. This feels just like any other party, and Lelouch doesn't even need to search because he knows he won't find a reason for him to think of this party different from all the ones he's been to before. More specifically, all the ones he's been to and hated.
He pays no heed to his surroundings as his feet shuffle. His vision is nearing a blur but he is still able to catch a few things from the corner of his eye: a servant passing drinks around; a woman in a much too bright red dress, flirting with a likely drunken man; another woman in a lilac dress.
Lelouch freezes. Quickly whirling around, he prompts his knight to halt in shock.
"Is something the matter, Your Highness?" the knight asks.
A small inhale is all Lelouch offers at first. His head suddenly clears, and he realises he is staring at nothing in particular. He was sure he was looking for something that pulled his attention, but there seems to be nothing worthy of concentrating on. He gives a final, quick scan before turning again and continuing to walk.
"It's nothing," he murmurs.
He tries to convince himself so, but even as he repeats the words to himself for the rest of the evening, the feeling that it was indeed something remains unwavering.
Being royalty meant that variance cannot be, and it was a fact Lelouch knew better than anyone else. The prince has tried many times to inflict a change but his efforts were futile. Nevertheless, giving up never occurred to him. It was an option dismissed before being considered in the first place. His resilience was entirely influenced by him, but lately he feels like he had made a silent promise to someone, a promise that he won't give up. Lelouch doesn't ponder much on the matter, grateful that, whether it be him or another person that made it happen, he has gotten here.
At first, his efforts were out of hope. But as time passed, he found himself persisting out of desperation. Hope or desperation, Lelouch never believed this day would come.
He never believed he would walk the grounds of the campus of Ashford Academy.
It was rather disagreeable to think that he was only allowed to visit out of pity, what with suffering from a deadly disease. Lelouch overlooked it. He didn't have time to be bitter about it now, not when he was living his long-awaited dream.
The prince has been to some of the most lavish of palaces, the most exuberant natural spots, yet nothing captivated him like the buildings of Ashford Academy. Naturally, he couldn't compare it to other academies, but it seemed to be very spacious. Small streams were flowing on either side of him as he walked down the stony path. The walls were a creamy colour, and even from a distance Lelouch could see the beauty of the precise architecture. He assumed Ashford to be a high-class academy, and its sight confirmed it.
"I didn't guess we'd have to wear uniforms during our visit," Nunnally speaks, examining the white sleeves of her button-up, and the pink dress.
Lelouch observes his own uniform; black slacks with a matching jacket that has golden outlines and a symbol of the academy on the collar. The prince has had attire made especially for him, with carefully chosen fabrics and dimensions, yet he felt like nothing fit him better than this uniform.
"We have to dress like students if we are to step in their territory, just as how outsiders are expected to dress formally when stepping into the palace," Lelouch says.
"Excellent judgement, Your Highness," Suzaku says, "though I don't see students around."
"That's because they are currently on a break from the academic year. Only the student council is working, mostly planning activities for when the students come back. Milly deemed it the most appropriate time for us to visit." Once done with explaining, Lelouch goes back to staring around in utmost wonder.
Too captivated by his surroundings, he doesn't notice when they've reached the clubhouse, where Milly was awaiting. He only comes to know of the blonde's presence when Nunnally runs to her and the two greet each other in enthusiasm. Lelouch was about to take the next steps to the clubhouse but stops, not yet done with scrutinising the area. Suzaku follows suit.
The prince knows better than to indulge in unrealistic thoughts, but looking from the Ashford buildings to the yards to the two girls chatting excitedly a distance from him, he is unable to hold back from wondering.
"What do you think, Suzaku?" He looks around for an extra moment before turning to the boy. "What do you think it would be like, if we were actually students here?"
Suzaku is silent for a moment, seizing the unexpected question and looking for an answer. "You mean to say if our lives were different in every aspect from the way they are, Your Highness?"
"Exactly," Lelouch says breathily. "Can you imagine it?" His voice makes it sound like he is speaking of a myth, a legend.
"Well, Your Highness, I can easily imagine you skipping any classes related to physical education." Suzaku looks like he is trying to hold back a laugh.
Lelouch easily returns, "Just as easily as I can imagine you blowing up the science labs."
"Are you two coming?" Milly shouts.
The two boys turn to her, having only a second to affirm before she turns away and rushes into the clubhouse, Nunnally by her side.
"Let us go then, Your Highness."
Lelouch smiles. "Let's go, Suzaku."
And so the prince and the knight continue their way. They are greeted with several shocked glances that gave way to warm welcome upon entering the clubhouse. They are introduced to the members of the student council. Lelouch has been introduced to a multitude of people from a multitude of places around the world, but he has never experienced anything like this. The student council was bright and boisterous, and seemed to harbour something deeper than genuine respect when it came to Lelouch. For the first time in his life, Lelouch felt like he was actually being welcomed in a foreign place, and that it had nothing to do with his status. It was a wonderful feeling.
Lelouch turns to the members in greeting, one by one, when suddenly the air was knocked out of his lungs.
He freezes in the middle of the room, unable to move, unable to breathe.
His senses are thrown into frenzy as all the thoughts he has been keeping at bay crash onto him at once, like a tidal wave on rocks.
Everything seemed to melt, and the girl was the only thing Lelouch could focus on. He knows a girl with such striking features would remain in his mind, what with her bright green orbs and long ginger hair. But Lelouch thinks—he knows there's another reason he remembers her.
She seemed to feel the same thing, returning Lelouch's shock in her gape.
They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, neither of them making a single move. It felt like nothing else existed.
"Big brother?" Nunnally's concern shakes Lelouch back into reality.
The prince blinks, and is miraculously able to pry his eyes off the ginger. He notices that everyone is staring at him in worry. Some were looking around, trying to point their fingers on what it was that agitated him.
"Is everything okay?" Milly asks.
He blinks again, trying to clear his mind but he isn't quite successful. "Ah, yes, everything's fine." He looks around, trying to find anything that can initiate a new topic. "This is quite a big clubhouse. How about we get a small tour?" He tries for a smile, hoping it is not as shaky as he feels.
"We were actually discussing that. Come on, there's plenty for you to see!" Milly exclaims, waving her arms in invite. She takes the lead, and has everyone at her guidance. Though she only leads a few steps before she turns again, calling, "Shirley?"
Lelouch's heart threatens to burst out of his ribcage. He dares to turn his head to cast a discreet glance at the girl. The ginger, who had stayed frozen in place, hastily composes herself, laughing nervously. "I-I'm coming!"
Lelouch wills his legs to carry him away, and wills his eyes to look anywhere but at the girl. There was an unfamiliar feeling manifesting in his chest, and something told him if it became any stronger it might just overwhelm him.
Thankfully, there was plenty to focus on. The clubhouse has numerous rooms, each dedicated to a certain activity. The place seemed to be more entertaining than anything the palace offered of leisure.
Memories were pinned all over the place, mostly in photographs. The council was a mischievous bunch, or maybe their president was. Scanning the photos, Lelouch couldn't help but have slivers of resentment form inside him. He wasn't just looking at a bunch of students doing fun activities in their school year; he was looking at freedom. He was looking at the one thing his royal life would never offer him.
The feeling doesn't have time to manifest before numbness overflows Lelouch. He feels his body becomes hollow when his eyes fall on a single picture in the corner: the ginger, dressed in a white dress, angel wings attached to the back. There was a whole world in the background; Milly dressed as a demon and some other boys running around. But Lelouch couldn't get his eyes off the angel. Although his better judgement tells him not to, he turns to the ginger. It didn't seem like a coincidence that her back is facing him.
Lelouch turns back to the picture, but the funny sensation in his body, the tensing of all his muscles, make him look away. He shouldn't be so naive. He should know better than to let such feelings control his actions. The skittering in his chest and tingles in his body cannot be allowed. Even if a small part of him finds them pleasurable.
It was no surprise to Lelouch that the flow of time was speedy, and his day at Ashford was over after what felt like minutes from its start. Before he knew it he, Nunnally and Suzaku were bidding farewell to the student council. The bunch reiterated that the three are welcome to visit any more times, that it would be their pleasure to have them here again.
The council insists on walking them all the way from the clubhouse to the entrance. Lelouch stays behind, at the will of something deep inside him they says there is something he is yet to do. He watches as everyone walks down the stairs and pathway, still chatting.
Lelouch turns back to the clubhouse, examining it one last time. His stomach drops to the floor when he notices the ginger still standing there, facing the window. She had been avoiding him all day but Lelouch can't blame her, considering he too would have avoided any encounter with her. But maybe all he wanted to avoid was the fireworks that rocked his chest every time he looked at her.
He scans the clubhouse again and again, searching for that one thing nagging at him. Could it be that he was just stalling? Maybe he didn't want to leave Ashford Academy. But there was no point in fighting what couldn't be avoided.
With a quiet sigh, he exits the clubhouse.
But the thing deep inside him doesn't tell him to return. It screams at him. It screams so loudly Lelouch doubts it's only in his head. The rushing of his blood has him stomping back into the clubhouse, barely able to feel anything but heat coursing through his veins.
"Shirley," he calls. He is surprised at the softness in his voice when a fire was raging inside of him.
Said girl reacts as if she's been shot. She jumps back, and turns around at the speed of light. "Y-Your Highness?"
"Shirley I've..." Lelouch takes more steps into the clubhouse, prompting Shirley to back away, pressing into the window. "I've seen you before, right?" He is surprised he found words to phrase the question, when many others were whirling around his mind.
Why does my heart jump every time I see you?
Why do I feel like you're the one I've been searching for?
Was it a dream or reality that I saw you in?
Emerald orbs widen, staring at Lelouch like he was a madman. The prince feels a sinking sensation throughout his body. He was definitely mad, thinking one of the people farthest from him had a significant role in his life.
Shirley runs a hand through her ginger locks, moving them away from her eyes. Disbelief was painted all over her face. "You felt it, too?"
Lelouch isn't aware he is holding his breath until all the air leaves him at once, and it feels like a punch to the chest. "I felt it. I knew it." Breathy laughter forms from his relief.
A shy smile is returned. Shirley's cheeks are tainted a light, rosy shade.
"I'm sure I'd remember any encounter I'd have with you, Your Highness."
"And I would never forget either, Shirley."
And so the two stared at each other, their smiles never ceasing. Even though they were silent, words were exchanged between them, spoken not by their mouths, but by their hearts:
I don't regret it.
I don't regret it at all.
I don't regret falling in love with you.
The petals of miracle made them remember, even when the world made them forget. HH