Chapter 27: Kaleidoscope Part 2

La Motte, Area 2

Alex listened to a harsh caw over the rustle of fabric from 712th Division helping the 256th Division set up camp. Reinforcements had finally arrived, but the new soldiers' sneering glances and scrunched noses extinguished any joy Alex felt at their arrival. The 256th wasn't there to help them, but to put an end to the Count once and for all. The Emperor must have grown tired of them fleeing further North with each attack of the Count.

The 712th had failed... and now the 256th had arrived to clean up their mess.

Alex tried to not concern himself with the affairs of haughty men. He had his own worries: mainly Lelouch. While Alex had desperately tried to convince Lelouch to specialize in communications, and Lelouch had even accepted Sergeant Malfoire's tutelage, Lelouch remained on the front lines. He was a leader and for this, Alex's heart despaired. He wanted his first friend to be safe, but the Empire seemed intent on making that impossible.

Catching sight of Edgar sitting outside the med tent, Alex checked for watching officers, and jogged over.

Edgar paused in peeling the foil off his meal. "You do know you're going to get into trouble? I thought you're on duty right now?"

Alex huffed and sat down. "Please. The 256th don't want our help anyway. And if anyone has any trouble with me slacking, they'll send the complaint to Sergeant Malfoire. He slacks too much to berate me over it."

"Well, we're definitely lucky with our supervisors, even if Sergeant Tamay will skin me alive if he catches me slacking."

"You're on break and you never slack," Alex replied. "Seriously, you're bad as Lelouch with knowing when to take time off."

"I'm dedicated. Lelouch is bullheaded. And you, kid, never do as you're told."

Alex crossed his arms. "Sergeant Malfoire says I'm a great student. He says we'll be moving away from paperwork soon... and if I succeed, I can get a promotion. Then I won't be the baby of the group."

"Trust me. You and Lelouch will always be the babies. Things are going to get more dangerous, so stick to paperwork... or admit you're underage."

"I'm fifteen," Alex said reflexively and his casual smile froze.

"Right. And I'm the Emperor." Edgar ran his hand through his hair and quickly checked his watch. "I'm not going to tell. But please, think about it. I care for you Alex. You're like a little brother. You and Lelouch. We came together because of each other and I'd say we're close friends. Even if we aren't a squadron anymore, I'm still going to look out for you. Being in the 712th and toiling away endlessly only to die in the middle of nowhere? Nobody deserves that."

A shiver tore down his spine and Alex hugged himself tighter. No. He couldn't leave. Leaving meant going back to the street where she was. He hadn't done anything to deserve such attention. But every street rat knew that those enticed by her promises of food and warmth never returned. If only she hadn't been so persistent. The contract kept him safe... but if she discovered him in the middle of nowhere with a contract that could now be dissolved due to age, Alex was screwed.

"No," Alex said firmly. "I'm staying. Besides, someone needs to cover Lelouch's ass."

"Then try to convince him at least?" Edgar begged. "Trouble flocks to him like bees to honey."

"He has his reasons," Alex whispered. "I have mine. I'll respect his. It's what a friend does."

Edgar glanced at his watch again, shook his head, and stood up. "Alex, sometimes being a friend means knowing when to push. Lelouch denies his feelings, but they're there. Remember the sword? He keeps running from the past."

The heavy gaze bore into Alex and he dropped his head to observe the shards of glass poking through the snow.

"In the past week, he's been in medical twice with minor injuries. Maybe it's nothing; maybe it's something. I don't know. He won't talk to me, but he'll talk to you."

Alex's mouth dried. Lelouch had been acting off when they met for meal times, but he always seemed so happy to him that Alex had thought nothing of it. Reflecting on it, Alex remembered the forced smiles and the subtle flinch whenever Sergeant Malfoire approached. Surely it was nothing.

As Alex looked up at Edgar and saw his serious face, his heart sank. If Edgar, who struggled to understand folk's intentions, thought something was wrong...

He had done a disservice to his friend.

"I'll talk to him." No. He wouldn't. Lelouch would lie; it was what Alex would do.

Edgar straightened and a fond smile bloomed. "Thank you, Alex. Thank you. I need to go, but... could you keep Lelouch and Roy from doing anything too rash?"

Snorting, Alex asked, "You mean like murdering Colonel Fortescue?"

"Not so loud," Edgar hissed and hurriedly glanced around. "But yes. Keep them out of trouble. And if you run into Frederick, remind him that he promised me dinner."

Alex rolled his eyes, but gave a mocking salute. Of course, having chosen to focus on communications meant he served as everyone's personal carrier pigeon.

Operation: Help Lelouch started without much fanfare. Alex forged Sergeant Tamay's signature on a note claiming he had contracted food poisoning and was freed from the day's work. Alex had long mastered the art of not being seen and no one raised an eyebrow at his absence... or even bothered to consult with Sergeant Tamay.

Finding Lelouch and trailing him without being seen proved to be harder. Lelouch surrounded himself with others and flitted between groups. He joked with Pablo, charmed Numbers to aid him, and insulted a pair of officers without them being any wiser. When Alex stood by Lelouch's shoulder, he had seen him navigate the world seamlessly, but as a distant observer, Lelouch's actions felt calculated and lost much of their charm. Alex wondered if Lelouch realized he navigated the world with the instincts of a conman.

Alex learned much trailing Lelouch. Unfortunately, most of it wasn't about him. Alex learned that Pablo's friend Jon ran the black market, Frederick needed red candles for some reason, and that the cook smuggled food from the village. At dinner time, Alex skipped his normal meal with Lelouch and watched his friend look briefly for him, before sitting down with his new squadron. While they ate, Alex sat hunched over his soup and listened half-heartedly.

Setting his spoon down, Alex glowered at the soup. Something strange was going on.

It shouldn't have been so easy to follow Lelouch and gather information.

Alex had only watched people before to decide whether to snag their wallets. It was a useful skill as his heavy pockets attested to, but not one that lent itself to continuous surveillance. Even now, sitting at a table across from his target, Alex was invisible. He had shifted his cap, stuffed napkins up his sleeves to change his silhouette, and sat next to a fellow short soldier to mask his lack of height. A year ago, none of these considerations would have crossed his mind.

Lelouch excused himself and Alex followed from a distance growing more confused as his friend passed by his tent. Their path meandered through camp, the flickering lamps were slowly extinguished, and Alex found it more difficult to blend in with the ever decreasing number of people. Alex ducked behind a tent and watched Lelouch continue to walk forward. He bit his lip as he recognized where Lelouch was heading: the prisoners. It didn't make sense, but Alex followed anyway. Lelouch was his friend and he would not betray him... even if it meant treason.

Footsteps crunched over the snow and Alex's brow furrowed as he recognized the figure carrying a lamp.

Sergeant Malfoire spoke, but the familiar and pleasing tone was nowhere to be found. "A new year, a new attitude? What do you say Lelouch?"

Lelouch froze. "No sir."

"My patience tires, but please, lead the way."

The footsteps receded and Alex's heart hammered within his chest. Lelouch never warmed up to Malfoire. He flinched when the man approached. Long ago, he returned from a meeting with a broken finger.

His stomach churned and Alex listened to the footsteps, too afraid to follow. He had encouraged Lelouch to accept Malfoire's guidance. The man's footsteps were perfectly measured and too quiet… Alex had pushed his best friend into the grasp of a predator that he had been too stupid to see.

Their footsteps faded and Alex stood up. Under the dim light, he tracked their steps as they turned left from the prisoners and stopped outside of a trailer: a communications trailer. Maybe Alex's gut was wrong? Maybe Lelouch was receiving extra lessons?

No.

The skills needed to tail Lelouch throughout the day hadn't developed out of the blue. Alex had been practicing them for months as he was ordered to carry messages through the camp. Malfoire had challenged him to be faster and move so he would never be interrupted on a mission. Malfoire had quizzed him on who he had passed. Malfoire had asked him to identify someone disguised in a panel of photographs. Alex had been played as a fool.

Communications... the OSI.

Alex knew the stories. They were elite agents of the Empire capable of tracking down anyone and bringing them to justice. On the streets, they whispered that the screams from the house behind the flowering bushes and towering trees belonged to criminals who caught the Empire's attention. The man and his wife living there had been sweet folks who every Sunday fed the street rats. There was another house where someone who entered never left. Older kids liked to share horror stories where the OSI would hang their victims from their thumbs until they confessed. And when Old Man Grazt—who knew everything and helped anyone—ended his life, the rumors whispered it had been the OSI who provided the rope.

Malfoire, if that was even his name, was a liar... and possibly an OSI agent.

If that was true? Bile rose in Alex's throat. He had sacrificed Lelouch to the wolves and Malfoire was preparing Alex as dessert.

Of course, he could be mistaken.

The trailer mocked Alex as he stood idly by.

The truth was inside if he had the courage to face it. Alex had never been a fighter. He preferred to sneak or charm his way by. It was safer to con someone and escape with their wallet than jump them.

Pulling out a pair of pins stashed in his boot, Alex picked the lock and cracked the door open. Light spilled from beneath a heavy curtain and Alex softly clicked the door shut behind him. The sinking feeling in his gut got worse as he observed the walls covered in foam in the dim light. Even the door was reinforced.

"You can step forward anytime, Lelouch," said Malfoire as if he was offering a plate of cookies.

Alex froze and his hand crept back to the door knob.

"He is a traitor to the crown. Shouldn't you care for that?" Malfoire paused. "No? Since you care so much for the ants, how many did you lose in the last attack? You're angry. Don't lie."

Finally, Lelouch spoke. "I refuse to be like my father. This man is a citizen of Britannia and should face a trial for his crimes. It is not my place to dispense justice."

Curious, Alex crept across the floor and peeked beneath the curtain. A young man, barely older than Edgar, cowered in the corner with manacles secured around his feet. Dried blood caked the ground and Alex covered his mouth. He had no idea what Lelouch's father had to do with this, but his friend shouldn't be with Malfoire. What had Alex done?

Malfoire crouched down as he trailed a finger along the captive. "It is your place Lelouch. And as I said, I tire of your stubbornness. Perhaps Alex would be more amenable to standing where you are right now. He is progressing well in his lessons."

Understanding dawned on Alex and he forced himself to stay frozen as every fiber of his body burned to flee. Lelouch, the idiot, was protecting him.

Malfoire had never cared for Alex, despite what he had so desperately hoped and yearned. He thought that Malfoire would finally be one of the good ones. It had felt right. But no, looking at Malfoire circling Lelouch eagerly, Alex realized he had always been the bait. It was Lelouch that Malfoire wanted and Alex just provided the convenient leverage.

Lelouch stood still; his posture unreadable.

"I asked you once if you would kill your dear friend Roy to save Alex. You never answered that. But will you hurt your enemy to save him? It is such a small cost."

Staggering backwards, Lelouch snarled. "No. You're asking me to become a torturer. I refuse to become a monster to satisfy your delusions. I will uphold the law."

"This is the law. The OSI belongs to the Emperor; we are the pawns to carry out his will."

"I refuse to be that man's pawn," Lelouch hissed.

"Well, I'm sure you can become a knight."

Alex held his breath as his brow furrowed. Vital pieces of information were at play, but flew over his head. That something Alex suspected was because of Lelouch's family. Perhaps they were connected to the OSI and that was how Lelouch knew so much. His father could be a senior OSI agent and Lelouch didn't want to follow in his footsteps,

"I would rather join the Crows than participate in this farce you call justice and human decency."

Malfoire's hand snapped out, pushing Lelouch against the wall. "Treason? I would watch your words."

"I thought you asked for no lies."

Malfoire chuckled but didn't release his grip. "Are you so eager to be on the other side of justice Lelouch. Should I give you another taste?"

The blood drained out of Lelouch's face and his eyes widened. Alex's fists clenched. He should be doing something. That was his friend pinned against the wall.

He didn't move.

"You can't," Lelouch said, shaking his head. "You can't."

"Of course I can... unless you're finally going to write to your mother and spill the beans. You could have written a letter a long time ago and stopped the game. But you didn't. So either you accept that your parents need to bail you out or you face the consequences of your actions." Malfoire abruptly stepped back. "You have until next next month."

Seeing Malfoire approach the prisoner, Alex slipped back. Screams pierced the air as the door shut behind him. He ran past seven tents before collapsing to the ground and emptying his stomach.

What could Alex do against the OSI? He was just a kid.

Quebec Questions

The Count, Crows, and a Consideration of Public Policy; Opinion Piece

January 18, 2013

As I'm sure many readers are by now aware, Area Two has been beset by the Count and his mob. He claims to stand for our freedom, yet his actions necessitated the army moving in and for our own freedoms to be curtailed.

I will gladly obey curfew if it means that my safety can be assured, but yet, how can the Count stand for us, if he imposes upon us draconian restrictions. The Count has made no official requests and it seems his ideology would see our proud nation razed to the ground. Britannia has no choice but to fight as the Count leaves no room for negotiations.

In his quarrel (for personal speculation, see our earlier article: The Count's Mysterious Past and Plans for the Future) he sweeps through those who are innocent. His terrorism means my two daughters can longer walk to the local parish school in eace and that I must accompany them, to ensure their safety is not compromised. Every day, the local news reports of actions caused by this mob mentality that grips Area Two and it cannot go on.

To stop the Count and his endless local aid that hinders the military, we must consider the true source of his support. The Count himself proclaims no ideology but speaks of the general sentiments held by all commoners. At times, I hear his words and wish for him to succeed. It's this what makes the count the most dangerous enemy Britannia has ever faced. The Count knows what people desire and they're so desperate for change that they believe he can liberate them. Unfortunately, it is impossible to convince every supporter of his that the Count is simply an elaborate con-man pulling at their heart strings and bringing back stories of the nostalgic good old days where France once ruled.

To defeat the Count, it is essential that we give people an alternate avenue in which they can move to change their circumstances. The Emperor has already moved to weaken the Nobles and cut out the corruption that floods their ranks. It is essential that we follow this momentum to request further changes. Margrave Ashford's Academy is a prime example of social reform that greatly benefits the common man. While technically operating as a private school, he now offers to make the first two years free and any diligent student will be allowed to return. Unlike our local schools run by churches and apprenticeships, the education received is of a higher caliber and prepares students to enter the market that was previously closed to most commoners. With Ashford Academy, children must no longer choose a military contract for fifteen years to have an education capable of landing them a well paying job.

Aiguebelle, Area 2

Roy watched as the Crows tore through their defenses and ordered the retreat of his platoon. There was nothing more that could be done, but to save the lives of his men.

He gritted his teeth as he picked up his gun and took aim at the Crows in white on the snowy landscape. Being almost invisible to the naked eye had allowed them to sneak upon the Britannian army under the high sun. Everyone expected another night attack in the storm, but the Count was a wily creature. After they had exhausted themselves with increased guards, he attacked the following noon.

Frederick lay on the snowbank besides him as explosions threw snow, ice, and water through the air. A grenade exploded near them, blanketing them in powdered snow. Slush dribbled down the back of Roy's neck.

The radio crackled. "Hold your position! This is Major Fortescue ordering you to hold your position."

With a heavy heart, Roy cancelled the retreat and watched the Crows tear into the platoon with ease. He, as Lance Corporal, had stationed himself on the hill to provide better tactical support. It meant nothing.

Searing steam filled the battlefield and Roy pulled Frederick down onto the ground as an explosion rocked the air around them. His ears rang. Frederick's mouth moved as he looked at Roy and waved his hands empathetically, but no sound came out. Frederick looked over his shoulder and pulled Roy to the side, shoveling snow on his skin which he now realized were screaming in pain.

Frederick shoved a rag in his mouth.

Had he been screaming?

His friend lay across him.

The pain ebbed and flowed. Sometimes, it was in his face. Other times he could swear his hands were on fire... or a thousand fire ants had decided to crawl up his foot. The sounds came back more gradually. Other soldiers moaned beside them and an occasional gunshot silenced them.

A man in a hand stitched white uniform passed them by. Despite its poor construction, it was remarkably clean outside of a few recent smudges of black soot and red stains. Roy wondered how much pride the man must have had to wear the uniform and keep it so meticulously clean. Roy, for all that his family had taught him the importance of appearances, had long given up on keeping his uniform clean. Or perhaps the man was simply new and fresh-eyed.

The Crow passed them by, his gun at ready.

Roy didn't dare to breathe and he could feel Frederick's stiff body above him. His friend had to be alive. Edgar would be devastated otherwise.

Was Lelouch alright? He had been stationed on the opposite side of the camp, so surely, he would have had some warning and time to create a brilliant plan.

The cloudy sky began to darken and Roy, too afraid to move, watched the clouds drift by.

A soldier—his clean gray Britannian uniform a welcome sight for sore eyes—knelt down beside them. His brown eyes, with a smidge of green, widened and he turned around and hollered, "Found some alive!"

Hurried feet crunched through the snow and Roy could feel Frederick being lifted off of him. Frederick's eyes blinked and he smiled, before it quickly turned into a grimace. Then Roy felt himself lifted into the air, and his skin, once again screamed as hands pushed against him.

He fell unconscious.

He awoke to Edgar sitting beside him and eating his lunch. "You nearly gave me a heart attack Roy, coming in like that." He set aside his meal and pressed a warm glass of water against his lips. "You have a mild case of frostbite, but also some serious burns. But you're going to be alright... you're going to be fine."

"Frederick?" he rasped.

"Cold did a number on him, but he's alright." Edgar rubbed his arm. "He'll be thrilled to know you're alright."

"My platoon?"

"Besides you and Frederick? Two other survivors. Private Silva will be given an honorable discharge. He's completely deaf."

If Roy had ignored Major Fortescue, then perhaps those men would still be alive. They had been Roy's responsibility and he had let them down. Thirty-six men dead. He would dwell later.

"And Lelouch?"

Edgar rolled his eyes and pointed to the bed opposite of his. "The idiot fractured his clavicle trying to save someone. He's alright, just waiting for me to attend to him, and sulking."

His voice raised on the latter word, and Lelouch, obviously having heard, called back, "I'm not sulking!"

Roy stifled a giggle and propped himself up on his elbows, so he could sit upright. Sometimes, he forgot that Lelouch was so painfully young. "What happened?"

Lelouch clambered out of bed, moving his arms awkwardly and sat down beside him. "We were forced to retreat. We're a few miles from the original camp, but our defenses were completely obliterated. I managed to find some volunteers with Pablo to search the battlefield for any survivors."

At Lelouch's darkening expression, Roy turned to Edgar.

Edgar said, "Major Fortescue is trying to court martial him again for searching for survivors after the battle was lost." He sighed. "And he added a week to his recovery by ignoring his pain and searching for people with a broken collarbone! He's lucky it isn't worse."

Lelouch attempted to shrug and his eyes closed as he froze with a hitch to his breath.

"For what it's worth Lelouch," Roy said softly, "I am glad that you came looking. You saved our lives."

The smile on his friend's face was too brittle. "Always."

Something was wrong and Roy wanted to say so many things to show he understood. But Roy wasn't Lelouch who would always move forward. Roy had obeyed orders and halted his retreat; it had cost his men their lives. Roy had always known his place in his world. As a Fadiman, he wasn't a simple commoner, yet his family knew to be subservient to other lords. Disobeying risked retaliation. The Fadiman Company was successful because they knew how to balance on the tightrope of interactions between commoners and nobles.

Roy had grown up with rules drilled into his head and an education almost befitting a noble. Lelouch's background ensured he knew the rules as well, but he continued to mouth off and create enemies as he went. Initially, it had pissed Roy off. How could Lelouch be so flippant and risk his family for the glory of being right? Lelouch hadn't learned to bow in defeat, but to search for the next opportunity.

It set them apart: a noble bastard son whose father was overbearing and powerful, and a commoner heir to an international company.

Yet seeing that brittle smile, Roy wanted to cross the divide. Lelouch had his own demons to contend with and Roy yearned to aid him. Lelouch was young... painfully young. The rules of etiquette curbed his tongue.

Battle of Aiguebelle

January 19, 2013

Britannian Retreat

Britannian Soldiers Lost: 487

Britannian Injured: 352

Crows Lost: ~87

Crows Captured: 0

Crows Injured: Unknown

Summary: The Count mounted an ambush under the cover of snow and overran the guarding troops.

Request: We need immediate aid to contain the Count and Crows.

Sumeragi Shrine, Area 11

Kaguya woke up at three in the morning according to her glowing, bedside clock. No trucks or birds moved outside. Everything was perfectly silent except for the steady rhythm of bamboo striking stone outside. She should be asleep.

Kaguya slipped on a robe and crept outside her room. The moon cast long, monstrous shadows through the shoji. Kaguya, forcing images of demons out of her mind, walked past. A small light flickered at the end of the hallway and she tiptoed forward. A clandestine meeting. Exciting.

Voices murmured and she stood by the fusuma with a hand drawn depiction of a tsunami towering over a small village. Reaching for the handle she avoided trailing her fingers along the beautiful drawing. Her father was always displeased at her smearing oil over the priceless heirlooms. She pushed the panel to the side and listened.

"—dare to seek justice, an impertinent nobody like yourself," her father growled.

"Yes," the stranger replied. "You abandoned your nephew and our people. While you sit upon your riches, collaborating with our enemies, I protect your nephew and fight the Brits. They murdered your sister. Does your honor truly allow you to stand by?"

"I have my own daughter's future to worry about. My sister sacrificed herself."

Kaguya clapped her hands over her mouth. Suzaku? Suzaku was alive? She couldn't believe it. The conversation ceased.

"Kaguya," her father called, "return to bed. I'll deal with this interloper."

Her father once said promises had to be kept. Kaguya had been promised to her cousin. If he was alive, she had to see the arrangement through. That was her duty as the Sumeragi heir. She stepped forward into the light.

The stranger, a soldier with rigid, black hair and harsh, dark eyes observed her. He felt familiar, but she couldn't place him. She bowed—her fingertips pressed together—as a proper lady should.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance again Sumeragi-san. I hope you haven't encountered any more demons in the woods."

Her face burned. She had been six and raced back to the Kururugi shrine in fright from the self-proclaimed demon. Her cousin's sensei, Tohdoh, had first listened with alarm and then burst out laughing. "I haven't met Lelouch masquerading as a demon again, Tohdoh-san. How is my cousin?"

Tohdoh ignored her father's glare and took a step forward. "Suzaku is doing as well as he can. Would you like to meet him?"

Her father cut her off before she could reply, "The betrothal is over. Japan is no more. Now you will leave."

"You have brought dishonor on your family." Tohdhoh declared and he marched in front of her father. "I lead the JLF and provide aid to our crumbling communities while you gorge yourself at home."

Kaguya gasped. Rumors of the JLF's prowess were sweeping through the Japanese communities and those, like her family, who dared to become honorary Britannians. Her father always scoffed, insisting that it was a foolish man's dream. Now, Suzaku's sensei stood before them and Kaguya believed him.

Japan had a chance.

"Father," she said, taking a step forward, "please let us correct our mistakes and assist Tohdoh-san. We have a chance to reclaim Japan."

He turned around. "No. Kaguya, you will leave."

"I refuse," she cried. Japan would stand again. She needed to see it rise. "We must stand by family."

"We're Honorary Britannians now. This is the way forward. Anyone with half a brain will abandon this fool's quest and submit. We lost."

Tohdoh cleared his throat. "We lose when we give up. Japan will not be the same, but without action, we will perish under Britannian rule."

"And you have no idea what Britannia is capable of!" Her father clenched his fists and she knew he was afraid. Their family's submission to Britannia had been sudden. Their family's submission went against their values. "Kaguya is no longer betrothed to my nephew. She will marry one of the young princes when she comes of age."

No.

It was one thing to be engaged to her cousin who prefered to ignore her existence, it was another to be engaged to a stranger. A stranger who had conquered her country.

Her father continued. "I have secured my family's future. Now leave Tohdoh, before I reveal your presence to the Brits."

Once Tohdoh left, Britannia would know who the mysterious leader of the JLF was. And Kaguya would be chained in another betrothal with which she had no say. If only she had been born a boy. Then maybe, her father would be more receptive to her desires.

She could declare her refusal, but her father would never agree. Looking at Tohdoh, she smiled. "That's an amazing opportunity father! Tohdoh-San, please tell my cousin I wish him well. Of course we will support hi—"

"—no, we won't—"

"—out of the public eye. Send a messenger next time. As the leader of the JLF, such tasks should be left to others."

His eyebrows raised, but he inclined his head. "Of course Kaguya-san. It warms my heart to hear you show such care for your cousin. I will allow you to resolve the situation."

As he left, Kaguya took a step away from her father. His angry eyes bore into her as they waited in silence. She could see his fists tightening as he prepared to reprimand her once Tohdoh would have no chance to hear.

She spoke first. "You have three options father: You will commit seppuku for dishonoring our promises, you will break off the engagement and provide JLF the financial support you need to reclaim our honor, or I will run to the Britannians and tell them"—she clasped a hand over her chest—"the sordid tale of discovering my father plotting with the leader of the JLF."

"You would dare?"

There was no future for Kaguya or her family with Britannia. Any minor prince would be exiled or killed when the Emperor died. Her very culture and essence would be stripped away to make her the perfect royal bride. Marrying into the royal family was a losing strategy; one married the Emperor, not his pawn. "You taught me to protect the Sumeragi family, father. If you insist on dooming it, I will remove you. You have your choice."

A night ago, his glare would have her quaking, but she held the cards now. People believed what they expected and what was more believable than a sobbing beautiful child confessing to her father's treason in desperate hope to save her family.

He scowled, but did not say a word as he walked out.

She had set no timeline but Kaguya couldn't afford to make mistakes. She had to take the initiative.

Under the guise of going to bed, she slipped back into her room and wore her proper Britannian clothes. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders and she observed herself in the mirror as she took a moment to practise an appropriate expression.

The crisp air sent a shiver down her spine as she climbed out of her window. A Japanese woman, radiating amusement, stood across from her. Her dark clothes blended into the night and Kaguya swallowed.

The assassin said, "You're doing my job quite well."

"Tohdoh employs an assassin, but talks of honor," she mused.

The assassin drew a knife and flipped it so she held it by the blade. "Take it. The Shinozaki clan would have loved you. Family first, above all."

"Thank you," Kaguya said as she grasped the knife and bowed.

"A bit of advice for the new age. Families are what we choose." She turned around. "You have a pretty face dear and you're young. Your opponents will underestimate you. Sell their fantasy and no one will stand in your way."

Chrysanthemum

Perfection by Red Dawn

February 13, 2013

Let's take a man who we shall name Gustave. He is intelligent and unquestioning, but also loyal to the state and devoted to family. When he walks, women swoon because he is the epitome of perfection. But in his perfection, he of course, cannot look at all those beneath him.

The first maiden, a young beauty with wavy hair, has crooked teeth. Gustave's are straight and pearly white. He cannot blemish the family so he sneers and sends her away. She is not worthy.

The next maiden he meets at the opera and her voice enchants him, but alas, she is nearsighted and Gustave's eyes are perfect so he casts her aside. She is not worthy.

Then on a foggy night, he finds love. Her teeth are straight, her hair settles perfectly on her shoulders, and the eyes are wide and innocent. Her dress made of gold catches his eye and he begs for a dance. Everything is perfect. There are no defects he can see and at the end of the night as the sun rises, he kneels and professes his love.

She is worthy of him.

And she, who has long sought for a gentleman without blemishes, accepts his offer.

The first maiden finds love with a gentleman ailed by an old war scar. They raise three charming children and every night gaze at each other with love. The second maiden forgoes marriage but her clear voice is immortalized on records and with the profits, she begins a school to teach the next generation of singers. The two imperfect maidens who weren't worthy never think of the gentleman again and die surrounded by friends: their funerals well attended.

Gustave and his wife think often of their past suitors and the perfection they saw and forget the blemishes that led them to cast their suitors aside. In the dark night, under moonlight, Gustave stares at his wife as he lies in bed and the sordid mole hidden beneath her godly hair. She isn't perfect and he falls into a restless sleep. Awoken by his icy feet, the wife stares at her husband and sees the first gray ruining his complexion. She too falls asleep.

The morning after, they prepare for the day and Gustave grabs his diamond letter opener, while his wife grabs the rubbing alcohol in the medicine cabinet. At breakfast, she pours it into his glass and sits down to wait. Gustave lays down the knife on the pristine napkin freshly bought. Neither will allow imperfections to ruin their own perfection.

A maid finds them an hour before noon. Gustave lies on the ground like a slumbering god. His perfect ebony hair contrasting with his pale skin. The maid imagines this must be what the god of the underworld looks like. His wife lies on the floor with her perfect hair swept aside and revealing a porcelain neck marred only by a perfect cut.

Perfect in life and death.

Area 11

Naoto waited patiently for months since the disastrous meeting between his father and Ashford. With the weather growing warmer and the assistant, Thomas, no longer watching him, Naoto finally braved going outside.

Lord Ashford had overseen his move into a small apartment nearby. Fortunately, Naoto had managed to sneak an old shirt and pair of pants from his room. The essential clothes were now tucked in the bottom of his backpack as Naoto headed outside for his regular long meandering walk and shopping expedition.

The months had been painful as Naoto felt suspicious gazes track every move. Even in the security of his own apartment, he didn't dare to relax. Cameras and microphones could be anywhere. He couldn't even hug his sister or younger brother. Nathan Walker had no relation to the Stadtfeld family... so Naoto couldn't either.

Before the train station, Naoto slipped into the hurried crowd. He normally took a left and entered a backstreet to begin his walk. The vantage points were limited meaning he could catch sight of a potential tail. Today, Naoto turned right past the clock tower which had replaced an old bookshop that he frequented during his childhood. The crowd jostled him and he ducked into an alleyway filled with construction materials.

With trembling hands, he stripped and thrust his clothes into a shopping bag. A small gap between two crates served as the perfect hiding place. A loose brick covered the entrance. Naoto stood. His clothes were too short. Running his hands through his hair, he disrupted the neat partition. at the end of the alley, he stashed his backpack. Nathan Walker was no more. In his place, stood Naoto Kouzaki with patched clothes and a grocery bag in hand.

Hopefully, his friends hadn't moved on and disappeared into the ghettos. Naoto hadn't risked contacting them for their safety, but now he worried that they thought he betrayed them.

In contrast to Tsukuba, the ghettos of Tokyo buzzed with activity as residents hurried by. Their eyes glimmered with hope and their steps while hurried, their eyes lacked fear. Ashford had helped Tokyo and now, Naoto was betraying him.

Fighting for Japan was the right thing to do.

He wanted to hold his siblings close and stand behind them, proud. His mother should not have to hide as a maid. She was a lawyer, a fighter. She deserved better, everyone did. Even his father who so desperately tried to keep his family together as Britannia tore them apart. At least he tried.

"Naoto?" hissed a familiar voice as he walked past the refurbished liquor store.

"Long time no see Ohgi." Naoto beamed at his friend. "I'm sorry for going dark. Didn't want to bring any unfortunate attention to you guys."

Ohgi looked around them and nodded. "Of course. It's good to see you. We were worried."

"Let's catch up," Naoto said as he slung his arm across his old friend's shoulder. "It's been too long. And I don't know about you. But my life has been crazy."

In an apartment with fresh wallpaper and bullet holes, Ohgi poured him a cup of green tea. "What happened, Naoto? I thought the Brits might have gotten to ya, but then there was no news."

Grabbing the cup of tea, Naoto considered his answer. He would need to prove himself trustworthy again. No one could be too careful. "My father made... well, I wouldn't say a mistake, necessarily. But I couldn't be sure that I wasn't being watched and didn't want to risk you guys by contacting you."

"How are your siblings?"

"Don't know really. I have a short phone call with Kallen on Fridays, but it's too risky to be close to them. I miss my brother."

"Close? Because you don't look fully Brit?"

Naoto set down his teacup and leaned back. "Sort of. My father wanted to secure a future for us. A monetary one. Admittedly, it was my fault. I thought he was going to sell off Kallen."

"Your father would never do that," Ohgi said although his eyes were wide. "Right?"

"No. I was mistaken. He had a meeting with Ashford."

Ohgi coughed. "The Ashford? Margrave of Tokyo? I thought your father was a minor noble!"

"Not so loud you idiot. The walls are paper here. But yes. It was a business deal because Ashford made plenty of his own enemies so he was having trouble moving products. Father thought that a business deal would give us financial security when the truth came out."

"And it backfired?"

Naoto rubbed the back of the neck and said, "Yeah... That was my fault. I thought he was selling Kallen off and burst in. Father tried to play it off, but Ashford is smart. He knew immediately and weaseled everything out of my father."

"But you're okay?" Ohgi's gaze bore into him.

"We got lucky... You know I met Seymour a while back. He's rotten and then I think... I wonder what could have happened. Ashford could've been Seymour. He could've done anything and with the Emperor's favor? Nobody would have been able to stop him. So we got really lucky and I didn't realize until then. And then more stuff kept coming to light but Ashford wasn't surprised. Nor was Thomas. They expected that level of depravity."

Ohgi set aside the teacup and asked softly, "What happened, Naoto? How did you get involved in all of this."

"Right... bumbling the story am I not? Long story short. Ashford cares shit about blood and forged some documents and now I'm his intern and help with sorting his paperwork and running errands. Next year, he's going to support me in getting my medical license. I'm going to be a doctor."

"That's good." Ohgi's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I was worried. You're too Brit for here, and too foreign for the Brits. But I'm glad that it's working out."

Nato shook his head and leaned across the table. "No. I'm not done fighting Ohgi. I'm never going to be done fighting until my people are free. I don't know if we can become Japanese again, but I'm going to make sure that everyone here has the best life they can. Once I get my medical degree, I'm planning on helping the neighborhood. But I also want to do stuff now. Please?"

Ohgi's wary eyes observed him and he sighed. "Naoto. You went dark. You work with Ashford. Yeah, he's not Seymour, but he's still in charge. How can I trust you? You could be his agent."

"I'm not his agent," Naoto protested weakly. "I didn't choose this, but I have to do what's right. And I know I could be watched, that's why it took so long. Please, just give me a chance. If you need supplies, I have the connections to get them. I can ask Kallen even. She's been complaining about doing nothing worthwhile. Britannian school doesn't agree with her."

Ohgi stood up and returned with a notebook. and offered it silently. Naoto accepted it and his eyes rejoiced at the familiar kanjii. It almost felt like home again.

"I can get the meds," Naoto said. "Weapons are a bit harder, but I'll ask around. I should be able to find a supplier." He set the notebook aside. "Thank you, Ohgi, for giving me the chance."

Ebisu's Lament

The Honorary Britannian Problem

March 3, 2013

In recent weeks, the Viceroy's opening of the Honorary Britannian program to the general Japanese population has drawn much attention. It offers a way out of poverty and a path to full citizenship for our descendants. With it, legal employment opportunities open and with it, the protection of the law. Britannia has offered the Japanese a peace offering, but there is a hidden cost.

Honorary Britannians sounds nice, but is a vague legal definition subject to the Viceroy's whim. What was once allowed one day, may be stripped the next. The only inherent right an Honorary Britannian has is to marry a Britannian citizen. For this dubious honor, they must swear loyalty to the Emperor and Britannia, and never partake in aspects of their home culture. The latter explicitly forbids speaking Japanese and worshiping Japanese gods. Even traditional food and art are inherently forbidden although the Viceroy has made generous exceptions.

To further the insult against Japan, the Viceroy restricts the program to enlistees and those with special skills. The latter acts as an exception for Britannia to reward traitorous Japanese like Kirihara.

Shinjuku, Tokyo, Area 11

Villetta trembled as she watched the men enter her sister's stand at the market. She hadn't meant for this to happen, but the men moved with conviction and dragged a crying Eveline out onto the street. Nearby pedestrians paused briefly to watch the commotion, before they began to disperse. A single man walked towards them, but when his eyes saw the insignia on their uniforms, he quickly retreated.

Her sister was innocent, perhaps too amenable with the Numbers, but that was her only crime. Politeness couldn't be a crime.

Villetta had thought they would talk to Eveline and help her understand Numbers were dangerous. Then she could have her sister back and the fighting would end. A simple tip was all it took.

Why couldn't she move and save her sister?

Separated by a courtyard, her sister's desperate eyes found her among the crowd. Villetta lowered her hat and turned away as a tear slipped through her eyelashes. She should have the courage to at least look at the sister she inadvertently betrayed, instead, she stared at the graffiti marring a nearby wall.

"Villetta!" her sister screamed. "Please, help me!"

Villetta's nails tore along her palm. She deserved the pain for betraying her sister. Her nails dug in deeper. It wasn't enough. She should turn around and help.

A man approached and she relaxed her hands and wiped the fresh blood on her dark coat. Turning around, she wiped away the last tear. Her sister was a traitor and who mourned a traitor? Villetta had done her duty by leaving a tip. They must have found something incriminating to arrest her. She had done nothing wrong.

Then why did it hurt?

"Villetta Nu?" the man asked.

"Yes sir," she replied. The golden stitching and cuffs drew her eye and she met his eye. "My apologies, my lord."

Lord Gottwald offered a quick smile and he turned around. "The Purists appreciate your loyalty to Britannia. The Elevens are a tremendous threat to Britannia who prey on kind hearts. They do not yet understand their place within the Empire."

The Numbers killed Adrian and Michael and now they tricked her sister and led her to treason. Her sister wasn't guilty but a victim of their duplicity. Villetta wasn't guilty. She had done the right thing.

"Thank you, my lord. I will be on guard."

"I understand that your family must be important to you and your sister is all that is left. You did well to honor the ones who died and in time, your sister will understand."

"My lord?"

He turned around. "Her crime is minor and rehabilitation is offered to those with prestigious positions. It would be remiss of the Empire to lose a potential talent."

Villetta blinked. Her sister would be okay? She would get to live. Then... she truly had made the right decision. Eveline would understand when she finally returned home. They would be a proper family again.

But... "I have but a simple position in the military, my lord."

A smile played at the edge of his mouth. "Your knightmare scores are decent and with a sponsor, I'm sure you will continue to prove yourself an asset to Britannia. Additionally, your background offers a skillet that the Purists are currently... lacking."

"You're offering me a job?" she clarified, unable to believe it. She was a simple commoner and the Purists were composed of only nobles.

"Knighthood if you accept. If you prove yourself in battle and impress the Viceroy, perhaps you'll even earn yourself a proper noble title to honor your family."

What did he want in return? Villetta was a nobody. There was no reason for the Margrave to extend such a generous offer to a commoner. The Purists detested commoners, even Empress Marianne for her heritage. If she accepted there would be endless harassment. A commoner with a courtesy noble rank was still a commoner. But to see her sister again? She would do anything.

"I accept, my lord." Hopefully, Lord Gottwald would be the honorable sort.

"What's your impression of Empress Marianne?"

Was this a test? Villetta hesitantly chose the truth. "She inspired me to join the military."

Lord Gottwald didn't reply for a moment and she shifted nervously. Finally, he said, "I served under Lady Marianne early on in my career. I lead the Purists to honor my father and protect the Empire from the continuous encroachment of Numbers seeking to abolish our ways. They are a threat to Britannia's might. You understand my beliefs."

He wasn't a Purists fanatic like she had initially thought. Instead, like her, he recognized the threat of the numbers.

Bowing, she said, "It would be my honor to protect the Empire against the Number threat." Hesitantly, she added, "I won't speak of your beliefs to others."

"Thank you, Miss Nu. I look forward to your assistance," he said and left.

Overcoming her shock, she approached her sister's stand. Small trinkets were scattered across the floor and she leaned down to pick them up. A shattered photo of her brother lay in the corner and ignored the shards of glass as she pulled out the photo. A droplet of blood stained the corner and Villetta sank to the ground.

Her sister was all that was left of her family.

Chrysanthemum

The Sight of Smells by Red Dawn

March 19, 2020

Green and blue, purple and orange, white and black. They describe the world with vivid details. The trees are brown; the sky is blue. Flowers blossom in every shade and dresses represent the rainbow at glorious balls.

Green is sweet with a tang of bitterness and sometimes delicate. It comes in various forms from hot to cold, and soft to hard. Blue is the color of fresh wind and in the summer of hot humid air filled with sweat. In the winter it's frigid and burning with burnt wood and charcoal. Purple is clean and marks the clothes fresh out of the wash. It's soft and smells of mild climates. Purple follows nobles through the streets painting their way. Orange is sour, sweet, and tells of springtime, but often it colors the time long past with wisdom beyond our years. White is harsh and clean without any remorse. It strips away identity.

Black is constant and all I remember. It smells of dirt and pain and happiness. It is the only color I remember and my dearest friend.

Author's Note:

Thank you x1tears1X and Spaded Ace18 on FFN for your help with betaing.

Apologies for last week. Things were... strange. There is one more kaleidoscope chapter before the story returns the focus on Lelouch and Nunnally. Speaking of Nunnally, I found a neat short fic exploring her role in canon. It's called a Writer of Worlds by Tatrin and is available on both A03 and FFN.

A quick question: Since a lot has happened, should I add a short recap of previous chapters at the beginning/end?

Lastly, I know some people have been struggling with all the various characters name. So...

The Count Arc: A Reminder of Who is Who

Important:

Lelouch vi Brittania (goes by the last name Lamperouge and occasionally is called Toothpick, Gosling, or Lulu) and Brigit Buteau (Viscount of the Iceplains and known as Lady Melbourne. She's a former professional violinist, but abandoned her career to become the Count)

Somewhat Important:

The squad: Roy Fadiman (heir to the Fadiman Shampoo company. Nicknamed: Shampoo), Alex Doe (an orphan who joined the army and is around Lelouch's age. Has a habit of pickpocketing and nicknamed: Pipsqueak), Edgar Gray (aspires to be a doctor and grew up in rural areas), Frederick Elric (joined the army with Edgar and used to hunt), and Henry Sullivan (stopped growing after entering the army and likes to follow Lelouch).

Nunnally vi Britannia (goes by the last name Lamperouge. Permanently blinded by an assassination attempt although she is faintly able to discern light from dark), Suzaku Kururugi (Lelouch and Nunnally's first friend and the son of the Prime Minister), Art (Brigit's minion. He grew up with Brigit and cares for her younger brother, Oliver)

Character to keep in mind:

Kyoshiro Tohdoh (leader of the JLF. He is Suzaku's former sensei and taught Lelouch Japanese and shogi), Reuben Ashford (Margrave of Tokyo and holds various subsidiary titles. Invented the knightmare frame which Marianne tested), Warrant Officer York (an OSI agent known as Sergeant Malfoire), Frederick Oberstein (commonly referred to as Margrave Oberstein. He manufactures knightmare frames and is haunted by the death of his older brother), and Allie Welch (Nunnally's best friend and Gwen's younger sister. Loves oranges)

Charles zi Britannia (The 98th Emperor), Marianne vi Britannia (favored wife, former Knight of Honor and now the Knight of Six. She is confined to a wheelchair), Cornelia li Britannia (former guard of Empress Marianne and protective of her younger sister Euphemia. She currently serves in the military), Schneizel el Britannia (Prime Minister and prodigious chess player), and Odysseus eu Britnania (Minister of Welfare and the crown prince. He is known for pushing forward social reforms and his work in the medical field. He has a close relationship with his younger brother Schneizel)

Minor Characters:

Arthur Greenford (his family has held the rank Margrave for multiple generations. His nephew is currently dating Princess Guinevere. He is a childhood friend of Frederick Oberstein), Jeremiah Gottwald (former guard of Empress Marianne and leader of the Purists in Area Eleven after his father's death), Nagisa Chiba (Tohdoh's wife and the mother to Ko), Pablo Vega (from Area Six and helps smuggle supplies through camp), Naoto Kozaki (known as Nathan Walker to Britannians and Kallen's older brother), Kallen Stadtfeld (half Britannian and attends Ashford Academy), Milly Ashford (the student council's president), and Kaguya Sumeragi (Suzaku's cousin and now betrothed to an undecided Britannian prince)

Phew. Is this useful? And something I should include for the future?

See you next week. (Or via discord: discord (period) gg (slash)uSBegVj)