setsuko teshiba: Yes, I notice readers may get restless for the lack of suzalulu goodness so I provided a teaser. Thank you for the review.

SoundsRight: Thank you for the review, fave and story-alert. Though, to be honest, this story is…different from other amnesiac reborn Lelouch stories…because it's going to involve a bit of X/1999…I think you may like 'The Ghost in the Machine'.

WynterRavenheart: I can only give you half a cookie…because only one of the guesses is correct. (Sei didn't have one green eye…and he only looked sad when he's acting)

Poisoned-Inkwell: Don't worry, he will (otherwise it's hard to have SuzaLulu).

Mkad07, Sakura-no-Tamashi, HyperSilver, DuziInuChick, DarkAngel010, Lady of the Air, deksab, nefozyne, november11, bibixiaobaobei, sun-sun kat, BlackAngelBlood, FoenFyre, Djay, Eevetta, DarkKitsune18, Korikoto, ARandomWeirdo, frogmage, MysticMaiden 18, Azalie-Kauriu, Kailyssia, Alexandria Jaganshi, shauniBGE, darkshadowarchfiend, Star Jinin, mystic luna mage, InMyEyesForever, Sayoko's-fire, SilentTears07: Thank you for the story-alert/fave! I will really, really appreciate it if you also tell me why you chose to(I'm sure you have at least a reason).

Et All: Thank you for the reviews!

A/N: This chapter was SO HARD TO WRITE! Because it's just an interlude…but it's important for the next stage to happen…

A/N2: This chapter very nearly never saw the light of the day…BUT!! Now that exams are over I can write fanfiction everyday!! I'm really sorry for the lateness of the update!

Chapter 3: Out of the frying pan

"You will wait here," the princess ordered her knight.

The dark-haired Britannian looked like he was about to object. "Your Highness-"

"Guilford," Cornelia li Britannia warned the man. After the liberation of Area 11, he remained with her, a 'knight' in name. Though crippled, he was still a capable protector, and his devotion to her was unparalleled. The magenta-haired woman's stern stare softened. "I'd like to think I have enough skills to protect myself from a tomb raider," she attempted a joke.

Creases were formed between the somber war veteran's brows. "My Princess-"

"Guilford," Cornelia repeated, fondness underlying her tone, "I'm going to be all right." She smiled softly.

Guilford obeyed, albeit grudgingly, and commanded the small group of personal Britannian army they'd brought from the mainland to stay put. "Thank you," Cornelia stated, brisk and authoritative again, "I'll be back soon." She turned on her heels and started climbing the stairs to the Kururugi Shrine.

Back in the new Britannia's capital, Cornelia, who had gotten closer to Nunnally after her ascension to the throne, had begged the location of Lelouch's grave off his little sister. Euphemia's older sister needed to see him again, a closure of sorts. Cornelia might not be able to forgive her half-brother, still, but she needed to get to terms with the tragedy, and move on. Currently she was dwelling in the loss too much, and it wasn't healthy for her, or her kingdom. The former Second Princess had duties to fulfill, and she shouldn't let the ghost of Euphemia's murderer distract her.

Nunnally had given her half-sister a thorough, searching stare that discomforted Cornelia not for the scrutiny itself, but for the resemblance to Euphemia's gaze (they have the same eyes, those two, the same compassion and kindness shining in lavender irises), but the magenta-haired woman stared back unflinchingly, honestly, before Nunnally granted her Regent's wish.

The chestnut-coloured Empress had warned Cornelia that Lelouch's grave by the oak tree in the yard was nondescript, the tombstone indistinctive. There was no name etched on the smooth cuboid rock, no engravings, no nothing, and Cornelia could feel let down because it might not be what she expected. Though slightly disappointed, the woman ensured the younger female that was fine. After arriving in Japan, Cornelia snuck out of the hotel when others thought she'd adjourned to prepare herself for a string of meetings and public appearances in the very near future, and steeled herself for the 'encounter' with Lelouch.

With a bouquet of flowers in her hand – the types she remembered from visits to Aries Imperial Villa – Cornelia opened the wooden gate to the traditional cemetery, which looked unkempt, clumps of weeds growing out of place, and traced her steps, left…right on the first turn…right again…she thought of what she wanted to say to him, the things she might scream at him…taking a deep, deep breath, and looked up…

To find the supposed mound of soil dug out. What could be the lid of a coffin was laid near the gaping hole. Cornelia blinked profusely, jaw hanging open, and approached the grave, the flowers dropped to the ground and forgotten as she bent over to see, and sure enough, there was an empty coffin, insects and creepy crawlies already settling on the silky lining of the fine wood.

Overwrought with shock, the princess had a hundred and one possibilities flitting across her head. Someone had stolen Lelouch's body with the aim of defiling the corpse (Nunnally would be sad-)…no, the chances were slim. Only a handful of people knew that the body of the Maou was laid here. Were the culprits your regular tomb raiders, then? Cornelia stood up and looked around. Some graves appeared really neglected, but Lelouch's was the only one where the earth had been gorged out. The latter was equally unlikely.

May be Lelouch was revived, and walked out of his own grave. If something absurd like 'Geass' could exist, may be…

No, she wouldn't go there.

Then, there was the issue of who Cornelia must inform. She couldn't share this with her soldiers. The grave keepers would surely be asleep at this ungodly hour; from the poorly maintained conditions of the graves it didn't seem they attended to this place regularly and if she raised the fact that a member of the Britannian Royal Family visited such an obscure cemetery, others would discover that the 99th Emperor of Britannia had been buried here and trample the whole establishment.

But Cornelia couldn't not do anything, could she?

Seconds ticked away as Cornelia raked her brain. She couldn't spend too much time there, else Guilford would follow her, and she promised Nunnally she wouldn't share this secret to anyone. She could only investigate this later. By herself.

The search was going to be delayed, obviously, with the hullabaloos of Japan's independence and her unceasing responsibilities, but Cornelia had never viewed any matter impossible. Her resolve steeled, the magenta-haired royalty turned around, the dark maroon fabric of her cape billowing in a gust of chilling wind.

Summer was ending.

"Remember to wear the flu mask and the eye patch. Dress as a woman if you have to. Disguise-"

"Yes, yes, S.S.," Kamui pushed his reluctant custodian out of the porch, thinking, 'your clothes can't fit me, and my voice is too deep to be a woman's' at the last suggestion. "Aren't you in a hurry?"

"This is important!" S.S. turned to him and huffed, strands of hair coming loose from her hastily-done braid. She would have to redo it later. "You have the debit card I gave you, right?"

Kamui lifted the palm-sized, flimsy navy blue plastic sheet in his fingers. "Your account number's 1-8051-9 and the password is EF25X7. I got them."

It was one of the rare few times he could step out of the door, just a little. He reveled in the cool sea breeze blowing against his face, the taste of salt on his tongue. Breath-taking amalgamation of gold, crimson, vermillion and violet silhouetted her figure as S.S. stared at him, the perfect globe of the sun rising at the horizon behind her, parting the azure rippling sea by a path cast in amber rays. "Please be safe," she whispered. There was concern shining in S.S.' eyes, worry for him and for a split second Kamui felt guilty for planning his escape.

Only for a split second, though.

Because even if S.S. might be reluctant to kill him, whatever attachment she felt towards him that he could make use of, Kamui imagined she wouldn't have a choice once the government ordered her to.

"I will," Kamui replied with a reassuring smile and sent her off. "Iterasai."

She gave him one of her rare smiles and nodded. "Itekimasu." (1)

The amethyst-eyed boy watched as she slipped into the car and waved at her. She shooed him to get inside. 'Sayonara, S.S.,' he thought as the car was started and disappeared from his view. (2)

Kamui treaded the cobbled pathway carefully, a medium-sized bag slung over his torso. He'd packed the sandwiches he'd prepared, readily-eaten food (breads, vegetables, sausages, fruits), a piece of blanket and almost all his clothes (S.S. only got him summer ones, and he didn't ask), even one of S.S.' largest skirts and a ruffled shirt if he really needed to disguise himself as a member of the fairer sex.

Truth be told, Kamui was both anxious and excited to leave. He'd been a frog in the well, eager to learn the vast world outside yet afraid of his own ignorance…and in his case, his former enemies and the circumstances that forced him to the burial. Logic dictated he should discover more of himself before fleeing, but time (and his fear of S.S.) was working against him.

After seeing cottages similar to his own, equally abandoned along the wide stretch of white-sandy beach, Kamui came to the conclusion that perhaps this area used to be a resort, of sorts. There was a town nearby, with shops promoting local specialties, but judging from the lack of skyscrapers, this civilisation couldn't be a huge one.

The amethyst-eyed boy entered the streets of the city aversely after ensuring that his flu mask and eye patch were fastened correctly and covered his face. Some bystanders stopped and gave him suspicious looks, but Kamui was quick to act sickly. His pale pallor added to his advantage. It helped that he chose to wear long-sleeved white t-shirt that botched his complexion but secured his pretense. He'd also bandaged his right hand to hide the strange tattoo away from view. Some secrets societies could be scarily huge, and he didn't want anyone recognising the sigil.

As soon as he saw an ATM, he withdrew as much money as he could carry. His locations could be tracked if he conducted electronic transactions, so he intended to pay for his accommodations, transport and food by cash. There was a withdrawing limit, however, though Kamui was pretty surprised to see the number of zeros in S.S.' bank account. She was extremely loaded. (Well, assassins generally were).

From there Kamui weighed his options. To get to Tokyo, he could take public transport or taxi. The latter would be faster and minimise his interactions with Elevens, but also way, way more expensive, not to mention the crucial fact that Kamui had absolutely no idea where in Area Eleven he was – for all he knew he could be in Sapporo – and how far his destination was. He would have to risk spending hours with commuters on the bus or the train.

Then there was the matter of finding the station. The town was small enough Kamui supposed he could walk around and search for a railway or a bus stop, but that would waste more precious time, yet he was wary of asking the police for directions. His Eleven was rusty, tinged by thick Britannian accent, and once others discovered his allegedly mixed heritage, would he be singled out? The settlement didn't seem like one ruled by Britannians, yet it looked too nice to be a ghetto…

"Asoko no ojou-chan (Missy)!" As Kamui was lost in his thoughts, an elderly woman approached him. The amethyst-eyed boy's first reflex was to cower, unused to human contact (S.S. wasn't a human), but the granny had an amiable smile on her lined face, her dark eyes gazing at him with warmth. "I haven't seen you around much. New here?" she asked, her voice brittle as creaking wooden planks that threaten to give way under a person's weight, yet pleasant and so, so maternal.

Kamui was struck speechless. He could practically see his voice waving him bon voyage at the horizon, being called a girl notwithstanding. Should he talk? Should he flee?

The elderly woman took in the sight of this delicate long-haired beauty's bandages, the eye-patch, and the scrawny form, the skin stretched over one visible collarbone. She misinterpreted Kamui's silence. Pity flashed across the black beads of her irises and the curl of her smile diminished. "It's okay if you can't answer me. A lot of people retire to Zushi (3) because the air's good for health."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kamui went along with her misconceptions. If the granny thought he was mute and ailing (and a girl), he wasn't going to correct her. Instead, he processed the information, the name of the city, carefully.

"I recommend you to go to the beach. The sea's relaxing." Next, the woman attempted to be the helpful tour guide,"Zushi used to be a popular beach resort." Pride laced the words, radiant in the lack of humility. "A lot of brilliant writers had lived here in the past." Melancholy tainted the raw love for this place. The phrase, 'before Britannia trampled Japan' was loud in the silence.

The granny brightened just as Kamui was contemplating whether he should console this bizarre stranger or not. She rummaged through the large brown bag she was carrying, retrieving a piece of paper and a pen before she smiled at him. "That was rude of me not to introduce myself. My name is Isaka Yui. Hajimemashite (Nice to meet you)." She bowed slightly.

Kamui made a quick decision. The granny didn't seem like one who wished him harm, though her motive was unknown. Wiping any trace of suspicion away from his expression, he played the docile girl, bowing before taking the stationary offered and wrote, 'Sa-ku-ra-zu-ka Ru-mi-ko, ha-ji-me-ma-shi-te,' in hiragana. In his exile, Kamui had managed to teach himself some Eleven's characters from S.S' books, but his vocabulary was limited.

The boy watched the pity grow in Yui's gaze, and let her think he didn't get to go to school, a fate Kamui was sure had befallen many Eleven children.

"Well, Rumiko-chan!" The name he cooked out of nowhere didn't sound as strange as the name S.S. gave him. "I can guide you around the town: the good restaurants, the spa-houses…where would you like to go?"

Kamui scribbled on the paper. "E-ki (train station)."

"Eki?" Yui seemed genuinely surprised, "You have just moved in Zushi, right? Leaving so soon?"

Kamui bit his tongue to prevent himself from swearing when the pen poked a hole through the paper in his haste to reply. The flat of his left palm wasn't as flat as he would have liked, and the edges of the bandages around his right hand dug to his skin, making it harder for his fingers to clutch the pen. Screw sentences. "Byou-in (hospital)," was the only word he ended up with, utilising Yui's misunderstanding for his own gains. Besides, a small town like this one wouldn't have a hospital with state-of-the-art technology, which perfected his excuse to travel to a larger city.

Understanding sunk into the woman, intensifying her sympathy for him. "I see…you want a medical check-up. Yokohama has several reputed hospitals and the city is Zushi's neighbour…"

Kamui shook his head, causing several long strands of dark hair to stray to his uncovered eye. He tossed his head to dislodge the lock and penned one of the few Eleven characters he memorised. "Tokyo."

"You already have a hospital in mind, is it?"

Kamui nodded.

"Very well," Yui turned and took a few steady steps, despite the quivers of the knobby knees below the bell of her lavender skirt and the swell of her apron. Yui smelled of kitchen, of artificial pine of disinfectants; Kamui imagined she must had been a devoted Eleven housewife her whole life. "This way, please." She led him, and he followed.

He smirked inwardly when the scenario he'd speculated, he'd manipulated to occur did happen. It was surprisingly easy. Too easy. S.S. had been different; harder to comprehend, harder to predict, harder to steer to a direction (plus he was scared shitless she would kill him once she discovered he'd fooled her).

Kamui found that he liked this change, liked to be in control, to be able to maneuver someone.

The train station wasn't far; everything seemed to be within walking distance in Zushi. Yui even helped him buy the ticket, thereby minimising more human interaction. "Here," the elderly woman passed him a nondescript slip of white paper with some Eleven characters written on it. "We'll go by the Yokosuka Line."

Kamui's eyebrows rose to his hairline, suspicions mounting at the pronoun. He grabbed the end of the elderly woman's shirt and pointed at her, then himself, mouth hanging open. 'We?' the question was clear from the gesture.

The granny's eyes turned softer. Warm, wrinkled hand reached out to caress the long-haired youth's cheek. "You're such a delicate flower. Tokyo is such a big city. I'm so afraid for you," her voice held all the right emotions, but Kamui wasn't convinced. He made to write on the paper when he was stopped. "You might think you're familiar with the big city, but please humour the old lady, won't you?"

That was how Kamui ended up boarding the express train with the stranger, his butt perched almost at the end of his seat and his spine tense as he listened to the elderly woman's prattling of her life, what her husband and her sons used to do (before Britannia took everything away and painted Area 11 red). Spies and agents could take on all sorts of disguises, and the more believable they seemed, the more skillful in the art of deceiving others they were. His mind was working at a mile a minute; how exactly could he get rid of her? His lack of knowledge of his own identity, ergo who his enemies might be and who could be monitoring him, were driving him insane; he couldn't trust anyone.

A few hours almost passed in a blink that way. The odd pair of travelers got off the train at Tokyo Station, pausing in the middle of the platform, near the escalator. The place was extremely packed; there were students and office workers milling in and out of trains, transferring from one line to another, rushing to get to work or school. The station itself has close to ten lines intersecting at the multi-leveled building, colours crossing and running parallel on screens.

"Rumiko-chan," Kamui took care to respond to the fake name (not that 'Kamui' was the name he was bestowed with at birth). "Which line are you transferring to?"

Panicked at having his bluff discovered – he sure as hell had no idea where any one of the hospitals in Tokyo was located - Kamui quickly scribbled an answer. 'You can leave me here. I'm okay. Thank you very much.'

"Rumiko-chan, we've gone through this…" the lady's sigh was drowned by the sound of a train arriving at the platform nearest to them. As soon as the doors slid open, hordes of commuters flooded out of the vehicles, a sea of human beings. A tall bespectacled young man, most likely a college student, was holding on to piles of textbooks and files, a cup of takeaway coffee wedged between his chin and his bundle. Distracted by his precariously balanced belongings, he stumbled as he was pushed forward by the crowd behind him.

Kamui turned instinctively when something collided against his back and watched the falling Styrofoam cup almost blankly, stunned by the swift turns of events and misled by the lack of depth perception covering one eye had done to him. He didn't move away fast enough.

His mask and eye patch protected his face from the brunt of the hot liquid, but weren't spared, the materials thoroughly soaked.

"Rumiko-chan!" The elderly woman exclaimed in shock, while the student got up and apologized at the girl he'd dumped his coffee on, offering his handkerchief to wipe her face. "Take them off-" Yui pulled the mask and the eye patch off so swiftly Kamui couldn't even shake his head.

Everyone on the platform came to a halt when granny screamed. Gone was the warmth and concern on her face, replaced by fear. Kamui turned around in puzzlement to have the college student dropping the hankie, eyes widening, then backing away quickly.

"What's going on?" Kamui stood up slowly and asked in his best Eleven language, the disclosure of his lies be damned. As seconds ticked away, every commuter took a step away from him, leaving an open space a radius of 2 meters around him. "Minna (everyone)?"

The frozen stillness was finally broken by an anguished cry. "HE'S THE MAOU (4)!" The initiator was a middle-aged Eleven in a white shirt, dark pants and blue tie with a wild look on his beady eyes. "HE KILLED MY SON! KILL HIM!!"

'Demon Emperor? Me?' Kamui took a step backwards, his heart pulsing a mile a minute beneath his ribcage, as his eyes darted for an escape. 'What does it mean? Am I not a human, either? What have I done wrong?' he thought frantically.

The emotional accusation worked as a switch. The next moment, every frightened look was replaced by fury and bloodlust as the crowd closed in around Kamui. The amethyst-eyed teenager tried to escape but when he clearly could not, he dropped to his knees and protected his head with his arms as civilized human beings tore at him like vultures to a dead meat.

Through the haze of murderous shrieks and malicious intent, Kamui thought he heard the shrill high-pitched sound of a whistle and saw uniformed figures trying to shove the crowd away from him, and he knew no more.

TBC

(1) Itekimasu: I'm going. Iterasai: be safe in your journey…or something like that. Like itadakimasu, they're commonly used expressions.

(2) Sayonara: good bye. The word has a weight. It's not 'Ja, ne' or 'mata' (meaning: 'see you') which implies that they will see each other again. Sayonara is…a farewell for good.

(3) Zushi, Kanagawa. More information from en. wikipedia. org/ wiki / Zushi or www. .kanagawa. jp/ top / foreignlanguage / (remove all spaces)

(4) Maou: Demon King, Demon Emperor, Warlock, etc.

Continuation of Replies to Reviews:

La Luna Negra: That was because I spent Good Friday writing the update. (I went to church properly, though! Being a Christian yaoi writer is a conflict of mine…). Normally I have work, so I can't update as quickly. Don't take it as my losing enthusiasm over the story. Thank you so much for the review.

The phrase was 'liberation of Area 11'. The newscaster meant it has been almost 3 years since Area 11 was liberated and reclaimed her former name 'Japan'. I don't want the newscaster to say the word 'Japan' because I want Lelouch to think Japan's still 'Area 11' (and he will piss a lot of people later on due to this misconception). May be the sentence hadn't been constructed well enough? Is there a way I can make my meaning clearer?

Luna Moonsurf: Uuh…I don't think anything sugary is good for you now. How about sushi? No, no, the review for chapter 1 wasn't wasted at all! I like knowing your thought processes as you read the story. You're one of the few who catch all the X/1999 references I'd like to come across. S.S. can't be Subaru because I'm not evil enough to let him live forever. Yes, I notice that too (the 12th to 14th Sakurazukamori have the same initials) but S.S.' initial isn't S.S., actually. She must have killed Subaru to inherit the position, right? You got that right. Though called 'Kamui', Lelouch is still Lelouch. Kamui isn't…ehem…that…smart… *ducked from the claw and the energy ball* Eep! I love domestic, househusband Lelouch! Don't you, too? I did write 'Warning: Spoilers to R2', right? Was it not noticeable enough? I'm sorry then…A lot of the things are my own speculations, though…so there's hope! Thanks for the super LONG reviews XD!