Sorry for the (much longer than intended) wait, guys! I was in the midst of writing this when I had to leave for America for my cousin's wedding, and during the course of that I realized that much of what I had written either was out of place or could be improved upon -- in some instances both. Bottom line, I went through about three drafts before I was satisfied with this. They all followed the same premise; there were simply several different methods of getting certain things across (I won't be specific because A) I don't want to spoil anything regardless of how insignificant and B) it doesn't really matter what in particular anyway).
Now, I'll note now that I'm going to take a swing in the dark here for this chapter, to be perfectly honest. With Clovis living and all, it took a great deal of thinking on my part to create a dramatic and convincing introduction for Zero. And while my attempt here can pass for acceptable, I will mention now that it will be both less climactic and blissfully devoid of any Orange implications. Furthermore, now that I have some slight clue as to where to go with Jeremiah, that will be somewhat easier. Not that I have any intention of revealing anything about what I intend to do with him. But I will say he is taking a very different path, to be sure.
I'll also take a moment to send a few thanks to my first honorable reviewers. I usually wouldn't think of addressing reviewers, due to the fact that it makes the unnecessary stuff far longer than needed (as in this instance), but in this case I'll make an exception simply because the initial feedback was more than I had ever anticipated. More or less because this was nothing more than an overdeveloped whim, really. I wish I could say I put a lot of thought into this, and in some respect I have if having more than a few plans for the distant future of the fic counts, but for the most part this was thought up on the spot and I went with it. And... now I'm rambling.
Dodingdaga - For the review as a whole in one respect, but more for the help with Nii-san and Nee-san, thank you. It's been some time since I put any extensive work into my clearly limited knowledge of Japanese, and evidently my memory of which went where was part of the loss. That will be fixed in this chapter.
Tpolich - I thought of that problem as well, but addressing it is something I can only work at as I alter certain scenarios. A perfect case will be the battle of Narita (which will be occurring regardless of the vast changes otherwise), in which I have been hoping to make at least minor changes. While there's only so much I can say at this point, I have been put between a rock and a hard place when combining the cold and calculating and the humane sides of him.
LittleNK - I'm pleased to know that you found that little blunder amusing. Really, I'm flattered. That aside, the lack of Princess in Nunnally's name at that point was intentional on my part. That's all I'm saying, though, although simply saying that may have been saying too much, no? S
GenMcvile - Glad you liked it, and thanks for the review!
nightmare70 - That was not made up on my part. I'm not sure what his standing was (rank and whatever), but he was a guard there at the time. It, if I recall, is the primary reason behind his being in Japan to begin with (attempting to repent, as I'd pointed out last chapter).
Infinite Freedom - Why thank you!
Jin The Wind Master - That was a possibility in my eyes, but that will all depend on how I play things out to that point. We (yes, we) will just have to see.
Shadow Zeranion - Well, I'm glad to hear it. I'll try my best.
Rockmanbeasto - Clovis really got the short end of the stick in Code Geass, I'll admit. That is one of the main reasons I want to include him more. In Cornelia's case I'm not sure where things will go, but Euphemia will be playing a far larger role further down the road.
And to everyone else who may review, but addressing them would make this bit far longer than it should be (although I've probably already crossed that line), thank you. Just because I'm not addressing you personally does not mean your review is any less significant, but the fact is that ten or more reviews being addressed will take way too much space.
With that done and out of the way, there's just one more thing before we get rolling, unfortunately. I'll note now that I have no intention of making a one year lapse between Code Geass and R2, if my story should extend that far to begin with. And even if I do decide to do such a lapse, unless things go drastically different than my current vision, the scenario for the premise of R2 will be completely different. As such, bringing in characters such as Li Xingke and Rolo will prove to be a difficult task. So if you're hoping to see either of them further down the rode, I can't make any promises as of yet. Just throwing that out there now.
And now, with all that said, let's get on with my (hardly canon) alterations of episodes three and four!
--
As soon as I returned to my room at Ashford Academy that night, I immediately made straight for my personal washroom and "relieved" myself in the form of vomiting into the sink. It took some time for reality to catch up with me, but I had all too vividly realized that I had been the cause of death for a large number of people that day. In hindsight, it was an inevitability I knew. But that didn't alleviate the situation any.
Nunnally and Sayako had both cast me worried glances as I returned from the washroom, but I dared not speak of the matter. Especially to Nunnally, who's every problem stemmed from such things as were now the root of my stomach's unrest. I simply waved them off with a smile, telling them I must have been more exhausted than I had initially thought that day. Which was true in more than one way, as Milly had been more than unreasonable in her punishment for my inexplicable disappearing act for the afternoon.
Luckily, I hadn't needed to use Geass more than absolutely necessary... yet. Something deep down told me it was like a drug: something that would come back to haunt me later on if I abused it now. I had recalled C.C.'s question regarding whether or not I could keep myself in one piece to see everything through, and the thought crossed my mind that she had been referring to something like this. And though it was a power I would direly need further down the road, I couldn't help but worry what it would do to me in the end.
o--o
Lelouch promptly flopped over onto his bed, groaning and running a hand through his hair so it fell over his face. He couldn't find a single muscle in his body that didn't ache to the point of being inoperable, his legs most of all. The feel of the soft mattress beneath him felt heavenly, which was a feel he'd never regretted taking for granted more than he did at that point. Not that he was ungrateful or anything, but seven years isn't enough time to forget the overwhelming comfort he once had received back home in Britannia, and the Ashfords' luxury simply couldn't compare.
He watched his ceiling with growing interest, although that mainly came from the fact that he couldn't be bothered to look elsewhere. Despite being made no differently than any other roof, his had a strange tile design. Twelve across, twenty down... well, more than twenty, but that was all he could see. It was a large room, he knew; it just seemed far more underwhelming when it was occupied by the various things that were in place along the various walls of his room.
A bookshelf occupied his view to his right, along the west wall of the room. Another one stood in perfect symmetry with his bed along the east side of the room, and various paintings occupied the remainder of the open areas. Some Clovis had made for him of his other family members, such as one of Nunnally and Euphemia asleep in Cornelia's far more baby like arms. He remembered sincerely laughing when Clovis had given it to him in secret on his fourteenth birthday. A similar picture along the south wall detailed himself playing chess with Clovis while Odysseus - who was embarrassingly inept at the game by comparison despite being the eldest by a wide margin - watched on from the sidelines in sheer bewilderment.
It wasn't the brightest idea in the world, he knew, to keep such things in his room in a place where only the highest ups of the authority knew his identity. Even his closest friends, with the exception of Milly, saw him only as Lelouch Lamperouge. Luckily, she was also the only one amongst his close friends who was smart enough to notice the irregularity in a lamely conjured lie of a skilled painter making such work for Lelouch and that there was nothing else to it. It was insulting to them of course, but it was for the best, seeing as that was the best excuse he could really think of. It was one of those things one can't really excuse beyond blind denial. And Lelouch would never sink so low as to do that.
It wasn't until some time later... well, two minutes and seventeen seconds later by Lelouch's internal battery-less clock, that he noticed something was not normal in his room. Not normal may have been pushing it, he thought. Perhaps out of place... then it hit him. He felt like he was being stalked. Being the object of more than his fair share of fan girls, it was no foreign feeling to be sure. But he could have sworn, and almost could say with absolute certainty, that his curtains were not drawn and thus any such possibility of being stalked should have been erased from his mind.
But Lelouch could be a paranoid person at times, as Sayako had once mindlessly pointed out. His eyes searched his room fervently for any irregularity, anything slightly out of place that would make his completely immaculate and completely normal room... not normal. But to his great displeasure, there was nothing. No book on his bookshelf so much as slightly out of place. No painting slightly crooked out of place. No previously unseen spec of dirt on the floor. Nothing that would give him the... wait, hadn't he deduced the feeling as that of being stalked? But that was impossible at that moment in time. Even the clearly paranoid Lelouch could admit that.
Of course, that was until he felt something to his side stir slightly. Following the first lead to any irregularity, he glanced over. What he was met with was not dirt. It was not a book gone previously unnoticed as being missing from his bookshelf. It was green. Nothing but green, occupying the whole of his field of vision. And maybe a little spec here and there resembling that of pale skin, covered by a thick blanket. But mostly green. But for something to be a mix of pale skin and green... it could only have been the very same irregularity that had been the cause of all his recent irregularities. The one thing that had made his boring and regular life into something life threatening and... irregular.
"C.C.?!" Lelouch cried, jumping from the bed as a startled choke followed close after. C.C. indeed lay just next to where he had previously been, seemingly sound asleep and wearing nothing but one of his shirts that was much too large for herself. And one that he could not recall having allowing her to borrow, he noted dully. As his breathing evened and his blush faded, if it had been there at all, he sunk against the wall his back was now pressing against. "She should tell me next time she... wait, why is she in my bed?!" he cried to himself, losing his composure once more within mere moments of it having been regained.
"I'm tired," and Lelouch let out his second choking noise of the past forty-five seconds as he brought his head up so quickly it was a wonder he hadn't been rewarded with a cracking of his neck, only to be greeted with that annoyingly indifferent gaze of orange eyes. Or were they yellow? Lelouch had a hard time differing the two colors in this case.
"And so what made you think my bed was the answer?" Lelouch asked bemusedly, narrowing his eyes all the while and keeping a stern glare on the green haired witch.
"I don't see another bed in here," she responded matter-of-factly, as if the prospect of him having a problem with her being in his bed hadn't crossed her mind. But he knew it had; she simply either didn't care or found further amusement in doing... whatever it was she was trying to do to him at that point. Whichever the case may be, he found himself growing increasingly agitated by the second.
"That's my bed," he shot back, narrowing his already narrowed eyes into a leer. C.C. didn't seem to be intimidated in the slightest, which kind of annoyed him even further. In hindsight, though, why would he intimidate her? Sure he could put on a pretty mean leer if he needed to, but anyone that took the time to think - as C.C. seemed more than capable of doing - could have noticed that it wasn't exactly threatening. Being built like your average physically inept teenager, which is exactly what he happened to be, he didn't look particularly fear-inspiring. Beyond that look in his eyes, of course.
"Goodnight," C.C. replied before promptly rolling over and attempting to go back to sleep. By that point, it took all of Lelouch's willpower to suppress a growl. He was far beyond annoyed, and the object of his rage was occupying his blissfully comfortable and much needed bed. But as he felt his little energy drain further to the point where he was no longer sure if he was being kept up on anything but his sheer rage, he decided it would be good to quit while he was behind. Something he would never normally do, but he was never normally this tired. And so why not keep up his track of things that clearly weren't normal, right? With that thought in mind, Lelouch pulled the blankets from over C.C. as he collapsed on the bed, throwing them haphazardly over himself.
Unbeknownst to him, C.C.'s lips were spread in a wide grin of victory as she drifted off.
o--o
"This is the second time..." Lelouch muttered to himself, spitting into the sink one final time for good measure. In the whole six hours' sleep he had gotten, twice before had he found himself "relieving" himself in his bathroom, for a grand total of three "relieving" sessions that hardly provided any relief. The most recent session had been the worst, he decided, seeing as he was in the middle of drying his still wet hair when it had washed over him. But on the upside, if he could dare consider it an upside at all, he no longer felt as if he had anything left in his stomach to be lost. But on the downside, he now felt further deprived of sleep than he had the night before. And worse, he knew that he probably couldn't hope for any extra sleep. Not before going to school, anyway.
Lelouch grabbed the cup resting near the sink, taking a moment to cast a glance at the clock hanging just over his bed in the opposite room. Just after seven. He filled the cup with water and quickly drank it, sighing with relief at the slightly settled feeling in his stomach. He turned toward the mirror over the sink in front of him and ran a hand through his hair, still wet from the shower he had only recently stepped out of, in an attempt to stop it from matting itself to his face. Nodding to his reflection, satisfied that he was in no immediate danger of his hair settling down again, he reached for his school uniform that lay folded on the opposite end of the counter --
"Do you always leave the door open when a woman is in your room?" that is, until he jumped back and promptly smacked his head into the marble wall as C.C.'s voice once again successfully startled him. It had happened so much that the surprise in itself should have been something he was acquainted with, he knew. But he also knew that he was never good with surprises, especially the abrupt ones that she seemed to be subconsciously capable of. But most of all, he knew that she would torment him to no end should she know any of that.
"You should be honored. You're the first," Lelouch snidely remarked, reaching over in attempt two of getting his school uniform whilst mentally congratulating himself for already having dressed up to his waist. He growled in frustration, however, when he saw what was left of his uniform. His black uniform now rested in a rather crumpled mess on the floor from his swinging hand as he leaped back, and his white undershirt was in much the same predicament although it still rested on the counter. Save for the one sleeve that now hung over the counter and toward the ground. And despite the fact that it was at least in part his own fault, the sight annoyed Lelouch. When it came to his own home, he absolutely hated messes. He hated them in general, now that he thought about it, but he could put up with it when it came to other places. Not that any of his frequent locales had such problems.
As he proceeded to dress his upper body, C.C. scoffed to herself in some form of amusement, although whether or not it could be interpreted as such Lelouch was unsure. "Honored? Aren't you just a little narcissistic?" she asked amusingly.
"Just a little," Lelouch replied off-handedly, finishing the last of his buttons on his uniform. He dodged around C.C. and back into his bedroom, drawing the curtains on his windows and finally allowing light into the room. "Stay here for now. I'll be back later... wait, do you intend to wear that white... thing all day?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he got a good look at just how weird her outfit looked. A white jumpsuit that seemed much too large for the woman that was clearly much smaller than the outfit would allow her to appear, with black leather straps extending from the sleeves and across the chest that made it look somewhat like a straitjacket, wasn't exactly normal.
"I don't have anything else," C.C. pointed out, raising an eyebrow in return.
Lelouch didn't answer, and rather simply left the room. C.C. shrugged and moved to return to his bed when he returned, holding a small pile of Nunnally's clothing as well as one of her many school uniforms. "Wear these," he instructed before grabbing his book bag off the ground. "Don't leave. I don't want to know what kind of trouble you could cause," he stressed, turning out the door again. But as he did, that nagging feeling in the back of his head told him that C.C.'s personality wouldn't allow him to trust her to obey his orders. And Geass wouldn't likely work on her, seeing as she supplied him with the power in the first place.
As it had been on his first trip into it, Lelouch found the adjoined bedroom rather empty. With how big their home was it should have came as little surprise to him, but he typically found the room to be occupied by Nunnally and Sayako. Not that he minded, seeing as Nunnally's school uniform was kept amongst the rest of her clothing and their absence had allowed him to sneak some of said clothes away alongside her normal clothes for C.C.'s benefit. And in Nunnally's case, he did vaguely remember her saying something along the lines of needing to go to school early. So that answered that.
It was only a ten minute walk through blissfully peaceful scenery until he reached the school, at which point he once again felt trapped. Trapped in a place he'd really be just as well off without, not that anybody understood that small fact. But what if they did? Would he still bother to attend school? As it was, he missed many classes in his gambling expeditions with Rivalz, but he still attended any classes that weren't interrupted by such things. If things were to get further out of hand, any possibility of maintaining any school life - unnecessary though it may be - would be shot immediately. Not that he hadn't considered this beforehand; he'd had thoughts of rebellion prior to the actual taking of action, and knew the consequences well enough. Nothing could prioritize itself higher in his mind than righting the world's evident mistakes.
And the first of such classes that were soon to be abandoned in favor of underdog rebellion incitations, History of Britannia which was quite possibly the most unnecessary class for a Britannian prince to attend. All the same, it was one of the few that Lelouch actually made some small effort to pay attention to. Not that he needed to, but it was an interesting subject when he felt like listening all the same. Unfortunately for a rather frustrated teacher, today was no such day. Lelouch fully welcomed his head's desire to fall lifelessly over his desk that morning, drifting off for some more much needed rest almost immediately.
He awoke briefly somewhere during the lesson, only to be greeted with an overheard synopsis of the Siege of Yorktown. 'Benjamin Franklin was bribed by Duke Carl of Britannia, subsequently leading to a decisive defeat for the Continental army and George Washington's death. Yes, I know,' he reiterated to himself snidely, tuning out the actual lesson with his much faster recap. He glanced around the room to see how many people found the lesson as simplistic as he did, only to have his eyes fall on someone in particular.
She was seated three rows down from himself, and seemed rather focused on the lesson. Meaning, either it was something she thought of strongly or she was someone who had difficulty in class and couldn't afford to not pay attention. But more than that, it was her appearance that caught him. Particularly the shoulder length red hair. "One of the terrorists...?" he muttered to himself, taking great care to go unheard by those around him.
The lesson continued on in thus fashion, until Lelouch actually began listening again when the topic fell on that of the Second Pacific War. But as he continued to listen, his eyes didn't leave the woman he'd previously noticed. "Lelouch! Nice of you to join the land of the living," the teacher remarked, having caught Lelouch's vivid violet eyes from the corner of his own dull brown ones. "Since you're so clearly awake, care to answer a quick question?" he waited for a brief moment, as any good teacher would, before forcing the silence upon Lelouch as a positive answer. "Anti-Japanese prejudice was already strong prior to the war's end on September ninth, 2010. What efforts were made by Japanese forces to prevent this?"
"This would make for a good test," Lelouch muttered to himself, standing up. "Following the Japanese victory at Itsukushima, Britannian forces were forced from Hiroshima and subsequently pulled back to Takamatsu. The second multi-purpose fleet under command of General Kyoshiro Todo went on to Takamatsu, intending to liberate the city, which also doubled as a holding facility for most Japanese prisoners - soldiers or civilians - at that time. However, like most military engagements around the same time, the battle met with unproductive results due to Japan's abrupt surrender soon after. At the same time, various remnant groups of defeated Japanese units became guerrilla forces with the same intent in mind, and the two are what are now the Japanese Liberation Front, arguably the heroes of Japan even in the grudging minds of certain prejudice Britannians. Will that do?"
"Good," the teacher replied, nodding. Lelouch sat down and watched the red head from the corner of his eye, and was pleased to find her eyes were now intently upon him. As soon as she realized he had caught her staring, she snapped her head back to look toward the front again. 'Plan worked,' he thought to himself happily. Having succeeded in his plan and also feeling his eyelids becoming increasingly harder to keep open, he allowed himself to return to sleep. Or at the very least, he very much hoped to be able to.
o--o
Lunch break had come by two classes and four naps later, and Lelouch found another fleeting moment of peace. He stretched as he made his way down the halls of the large academy, not at all hungry but not having anything else to occupy his spare time with. Sure, more sleep sounded good, but that would mean actually paying attention in the classes to follow. And that in itself was a punishment as severe as simply forcing himself to stay awake.
People passed by on either side of him, all ignoring him in the hustle and bustle to reach whatever destination each had in mind. The only exception was the occasional glance a girl would give off as she passed by, and Lelouch was almost literally crying his joy that on this particular day Milly had promised to pull some strings so that the rush to get some lunch overcame their desire to chase him as they sometimes would. How she had planned to do so he didn't know, but he had a feeling that it was something that would leave her grandfather with a burning hole in his wallet. Not that he didn't have enough money to have such a burning hole mended, of course.
His musings were cut off as he was pulled aside by a rather rough grab at his left arm, and he found himself pressed against a wall with Rivalz's spare hand briefly pressed over his mouth to muffle any yelp of surprise Lelouch otherwise would have given off. "Lelouch, did you hear?!" he cried with sparkling eyes, and whatever it was that had him in such a daze boded ill for Lelouch. Probably something like a worthwhile gambling session that Rivalz always managed to stumble across, he guessed, but such a thing typically wouldn't have left him starstruck. And so, Lelouch simply had to ask.
"Who are you expecting me to play, Rivalz?" he asked quietly yet sincerely, putting on the innocent side of him he'd had to expand upon as of late. Not that he enjoyed it, but innocence could be a blessing when the hidden side of you is a murderer.
"No, no!" Rivalz cried, shaking his head violently. "It's the new student!"
"New student?" Lelouch asked, bewildered. Milly usually informed him of such things in advance. Especially in the case of a good looking woman, as this one seemed to be, if Rivalz's current gleaming excitement was any indication. But for it to have been so abrupt for him to not have been informed, then...
"She's..." Rivalz fell into a daze as he attempted to speak, and it wasn't until Lelouch gave a brief cough that he regained his composure. "She was in the courtyard! Maybe she's still there, if you hurry," he spoke slowly and teasingly, trying in vain to tempt Lelouch into his own mindset... Lelouch direly wanted to say perverted mindset, but his friend wasn't lecherous in the least. Not that he was god's gift to women, but he certainly didn't do them any serious harm. Lelouch mused on that pointlessly as he swiftly rounded to corner, tuning out confused shouts coming from Rivalz.
Lelouch made swiftly for the emergency stairs, pausing only briefly to enter in a code into the nearby keypad so that he wouldn't alert the school. He often wondered how the school found the excess funding for such a thing, but he cast it off as something they must have had the money for back when they were fresh from being royalty. It was a reasonable concept, seeing as Knightmare Frame producers certainly weren't lacking in money these days, if only because the damned things were in high demand for swift improvements. But even with that, most of their funds went into the school itself.
The school wasn't anything short of luxurious, on the other hand. It was something of a storybook palace; not anything like the actual palaces Lelouch knew from his home in Britannia, but they weren't anything like the ones in storybooks either. The academy had more rooms than he cared to count, and in the short seven years it had been around it had produced some of the finest young minds of Britannians. Even the occasional Honorary Britannian attended, if only for the sake of an education they couldn't find at the schools designed for the numbers. All that having been said, it actually struck Lelouch as little surprise that they had such strong security, to boot.
Lelouch leaped off of the last step and broke into a swift jog, making attempts that were nothing short of pitiful to dodge around people still trying to reach other destinations. By the time he had finally reached the doors leading to the courtyard, his hair was ruffled over his face and one of the buttons on his uniform had come loose. Exactly how that had happened, he couldn't fathom. Not that it mattered a whole lot, having been fixed as quickly as his hair was while trecking across the courtyard in a frantic search for who he could only assume was the source of the current madness.
"C.C.!" he muttered angrily under his breath. And as if by some weird form of summoning, as he rounded around a small flower bed he found her standing almost right in front of him. Well, not exactly standing. One leg was lifted up onto the black gate against which she rested, and her head was rolled back and her eyes closed. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked condescendingly, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he too rested against the gate, his head tilted slightly to the side and brows furrowed into a frown.
C.C. responded by ignoring him completely; her own small payback for his rude tone. Not that she was acting any better in her act of ignoring him, but she didn't exactly care. Not that she particularly cared about anything, to any great degree. Anything but their contract itself, but he needed her power as badly as she needed the contract fulfilled. To that end, she was reasonably sure her only need for concern was constantly addressed. It was when he growled his disapproval of being ignored that she finally regarded him. With nothing more than a blank expression, of course, but it was a start. "Yes?"
"I said, what do you think you're doing?" he repeated, glaring menacingly at the glare-immune witch. That fact annoyed him to no end, really. He'd already acknowledged that she had the thought process to realize the lack of real threat in his glares, but being stripped of your only effective weapon did indeed annoy him. Well, it wasn't his only weapon, but his only other weapon - although untested - likely wouldn't work on her. It was natural human instinct to not give someone something they could use against you. Then again, she wasn't completely human. But the concept must have been generally the same, he decided.
"I'm standing here," her answer was hardly what Lelouch was looking for, of course. But knowing her as well as his subconscious convinced him he did, that was the best he would get out of her. That knowledge didn't help his current irritation one bit, of course.
"You need to get out of here. Do you know the uproar you've caused?" he paused, waving his hands around in a show of exasperation he couldn't recall ever having shown prior to now. "They think you're a transfer student!" he added, and C.C.'s emotionless gaze had never belied her true feelings more than at that point. She was struck with an overwhelming delight at seeing his exasperation, so overwhelming in fact that she couldn't recall the last time she'd felt so delighted. Not that she remembered the last time she'd felt many emotions. Such things had eroded with time, unfortunately.
"I wanted pizza," she informed him with a shrug, her gaze emotionless still.
Lelouch quirked an eyebrow questioningly, "...Pizza?"
"Yes."
Lelouch felt himself growing more and more annoyed by her blunt and unsatisfying responses, but thought better of letting that show. He knew, as he'd repeated to himself thousands of times over, that it would get him nowhere. "Wait," he started, as realization of something dawned on him. She should have had no means to pay for said pizza. "How are you intending to pay...?" he asked, almost afraid of the various possible answers he'd conjured in his mind. None of which he liked.
"With this," she replied, holding out Lelouch's credit card. An act that, naturally, was greeted with an intense glare from the very disgruntled Lelouch. She simply ignored the glare and walked by, pocketing the credit card again.
Turning toward her, Lelouch's expression softened. Not that he was any less annoyed, of course, but the furrowed brow was making his head hurt ever so slightly. Naturally, he felt no other obligation to give her anything but that glare. "And did I say you could?" he asked bemusedly. But he knew it was a one-sided question; one that he'd get no answer to, of course. He didn't really mind at this point. Such was the nature of their talks.
o--o
I sometimes wonder if the power of Geass is worth dealing with her. She's absolutely insufferable, in a nutshell, and she does me no good beyond the Geass itself. I'm sure I could find uses for her, but unless our contract is threatened I fear she's too much of a wild card. In conclusion, the credit card thief has absolutely no merits whatsoever. ...Okay, so in the theoretical sense, I suppose she's attractive. But that is quite clearly not the issue at the moment, and I pray it never will be. Seduction is a useful tool, I admit, but Geass replaces any possible use for such a thing.
It had taken some time and promises of pizza, but I recovered my credit card and sent her home in less than ten minutes. As I returned to the academy I was greeted with Rivalz's persistent questions of who she was and how I knew her. I ignored those questions entirely, opting only to confirm that she was not enrolling and that I had no further connection to her. And that was yet another lie to add to my lie of a life, but it couldn't be helped.
The remainder of the day passed quickly, as did the student council meeting that followed. Gossip around school had changed at some point during the day from talk of C.C. to talk of the Shinjuku incident. I suppose Clovis was adamant that he try to rectify his own position by publicizing the incident, as mention of the Resistance's counterattack was nonexistent.
Rivalz had caught me staring at the red haired woman - whom he had confirmed to be Kallen Stadtfeld - and had quite the field day with questions. None that I answered, of course, but I did raise some of my own. She was indeed most likely the Glasgow pilot from Shinjuku, which would explain her reserved and falsely ill nature at school. After the meeting, I quickly pulled Kallen aside under the guise of asking her some questions. It wasn't a lie, although she did assume my meaning to be something entirely different.
o--o
"So, what do you want?" Kallen asked impatiently, her in-class niceties having long since been abandoned. Lelouch smirked at this, immediately confirming this impatient and demanding tone to be the one he heard in the Glasgow in Shinjuku. Which meant he had to get to know her somewhere down the line, seeing as his current plans very much included contacting that group again. Not that he intended to reveal that he was the voice that had helped her, but knowing more about her would help when fitting her into his plans. And she was a good pilot, he'd realized.
Lelouch's left eye flared with it's bird-shaped sigil, and he took a step closer to Kallen without breaking eye contact. "Answer my question," he said, more as a demand rather than request. But with Geass as his means, that's exactly what it was, of course. Kallen's eyes took on that red hue and her expression softened, not to that of her sheltered self but rather one showing complete submission. The look annoyed Lelouch slightly, but it couldn't be helped.
"Of course," she replied, lost in the spellbinding Geass command. Her eyes turned somewhat buggy in nature and she straightened out, as if in an attempt to be formal toward one whom she regarded with great respect. And such a thing, being as uncharacteristic as it was with her, only further annoyed Lelouch. But with a remedy of constantly telling himself that personal feelings and duty needed to be kept separate, he managed to get by.
"You were the pilot of the Glasgow in Shinjuku, correct?" he asked, simply for confirmation's sake.
"Yes, that's right."
"And why are you a terrorist?" as he asked this, Lelouch's mind set to work on thinking of the various - many though they were - reasons for such a thing. It wasn't a hard thing to figure out, he figured, but having Geass confirm his suspicions couldn't hurt.
"Because I am Japanese, not Eleven. Even though I am half-Britannian by blood," she responded in her monotonous daze. Lelouch was actually taken aback slightly by that remark; it was one that had failed to register itself in his mind.
"A half-blood? Then... why do you go so far?" he asked, shocked. He composed himself almost immediately, finally answering his eyes' urge to close for a moment. As he did so, his control on her mind slipped as well. She regarded him once again with a confused gaze, although one could easily mistake it as a glare of some sort. It must have been somewhere between the two, he mused as he walked away.
"Is there something you wanted to ask me?" Kallen asked demandingly to his retreating figure, oblivious to the questioning she'd submitted to under the influence of Geass. That was a good thing, Lelouch told himself, that those he used Geass on retained no memory of having done anything he had ordered them to do. It would certainly be problematic in the future.
"No, nothing," Lelouch responded, still walking away. Kallen cast him a questioning glare that he only noticed by the slightly unnerved feeling he felt as he walked. As he turned back, Kallen stomped toward him rather angrily, and Lelouch recalled that he had brought her out there for questioning and she did remember that fact, even if she didn't remember the actual questioning. "Ah, yes," he started innocently, his eye flaring up again with it's sigil. "Say nothing about Shinjuku," he ordered.
"...What do you mean, Shinjuku? Just what are you talking about?" she asked incredulously, unaffected by the Geass. Lelouch took a step back purely out of shock, trying to run his head through why it hadn't worked. Was his Geass a wildcard, just like it's supplier? The prospect was unlikely, he knew, but it was highly possible at the same time. And a power that he couldn't fully control wasn't a power he wanted, no matter how useful it was when it was working.
Deciding that just must be it and no other explanations would quite make as much sense, Lelouch decided to try again. "Leave here, now," he ordered, sneering at Kallen.
"What kind of tone is that? Answer my question!" Kallen retorted angrily, stepping closer toward him. Lelouch took a step back in time with each of her steps forward, until finally he simply turned tail and ran. Kallen gaped at him both in shock and annoyance, and began putting the suspicious pieces together. Could he be here mysterious voice from Shinjuku? Given the mystery about him, it was possible, she thought. With that thought in mind, she turned and started on her own way home whilst taking out her cell phone and racing through speed dials.
"Hello, Karen?" Ogi's voice errupted from her cell phone, panic apparent in his words. Clearly, he isn't made to be the kind of leader her brother was, Kallen thought to herself sadly. Not that she'd voice such things. They needed a leader of the Resistance and, sad though the fact was, Ogi Kaname was their best bet for a solid leader. But their really was no denying amongst the Resistance that their mysterious voice had been a godsend when it came to leadership. Both by comparison to Ogi and on his own, Lelouch had proven himself well amongst the Resistance.
"I may have found our mystery voice," she replied, twirling hair between two fingers with her free hand. She didn't typically do such absent minded things as she spoke, but the thrill of finding their mysterious savior was something they could all attest to being reason to be fidgety. Kallen was no exception.
"You what?!" Ogi's paniced voice cried so suddenly that Kallen had to pull the phone from her ear for a moment.
"He's a student here at Ashford," Kallen replied slowly, still trying to grasp that fact herself. "At least, I think so. He told me to say nothing about Shinjuku. He seemed really commanding, too. It was weird," Kallen explained in as much detail as she could recall. Which wasn't much, seeing as the vast majority of the conversation she'd shared with Lelouch had been with her under the influence of his Geass. To her, it was nothing more than a brief but very strange talk between the two.
o--o
Jeremiah sat at his new desk, his comfortable seat with it's fine wood stretching down either side with gold trimming along the top worked wonders on his back, relieving much of the built up stress of the last few days. Yet that relief did little to alleviate his sour mood, pondering over what had happened of late. His reunion with Prince Lelouch had been a surprise, and one that now tore at him. But what tore at him just as much was the reason for his new desk and comfortable seat: his temporary appointment as Acting-Consul of Area 11.
"Consul, may I come in?" a voice sounded from the other side of the door. After a moment's pause and a muttered okay from Jeremiah, the door opened and two people strode in. Closing the door behind her, the senior of the two approached Jeremiah's desk and nodded in greeting. "Consul Jeremiah," she greeted respectfully, although her comrade was reluctant to do so before she smacked his back, at which time he repeated her greeting and bowed slightly.
"Villetta, Kewell," Jeremiah returned the gesture, nodding to either and clasping his hands together on his desk. "I'm sorry about the delay. Things have been hectic with His Highness' orders to investigate any leads regarding the Resistance's counterattack. Not that I don't find it strange myself, but I seriously don't think we'll come across anything of use."
"Well, did you run into anything strange?" Kewell asked with a strange smile that seemed almost mocking, despite the rather forced respectful tone to his words. It could be said that he and Jeremiah weren't on the best of terms, and on the outside it seemed to be just that. But to them it was nothing more than a rather petty rivalry, and one that tended to negatively affect their behaviour around one another.
"No, nothing," Jeremiah came back, too deep into a distracted daze to pick up on anything except the words being spoken. The thought crossed Villetta's mind that she could loot his desk and he likely wouldn't notice, but as with any straying thoughts that betrayed her outward seriousness she quickly reprimanded herself and remained at attention. "Nothing except..."
"Except?" Kewell and Villetta asked in unison.
"I found a student in the ghetto. We spoke briefly, and he revealed himself to be Alan Spacer. He claimed to be the son of a duke, and requested my protection. I accepted, naturally, and then everything became a blur. When I came to, I was left there alone and my Sutherland had been stolen."
It was only a half truth, he knew, but it would cause an absolute uproar to reveal that he'd found the thought dead Lelouch Vi Britannia. It would only be worse if he revealed that, in the back of his mind, he thought the possibility there that his posthumous prince was the savior of the Resistance. If there was one; few thought there was, but Jeremiah knew they hadn't won on their own. Strangely, Clovis had jumped at the chance to agree with him. Not much more strange than the fact that Clovis had seemed extremely out of it of late, which was something Jeremiah could not recall having seen prior to then.
"So you're considering the possibility of a student stealing your Sutherland and outsmarting Prince Clovis? You need to look at reality, Jeremiah; that's simply impossible," Kewell retorted mockingly, grinning all the while at his momentary victory. What he thought to be a victory, anyway, as he was oblivious to the true identity of the student in question. Not that he would have been in any mood to believe his superior if he did know, Jeremiah mused.
"While I won't call it impossible, Consul, I'm otherwise in agreement with Kewell on the matter," Villetta added, arms crossed over her chest and lively gray hair falling over the sides of her face despite the slight bun she'd put it in. The overall look made her look far less professional than she actually was; that is, were it not for the deathly serious look in her eyes that almost seemed condescending. Such was the impression one would get, Jeremiah included, from Villetta Nu.
"It's the only lead we have," Jeremiah cut in, silencing them both. His eyes scanned both of them briefly for any signs of further retort before continuing, quieter, "And Prince Clovis, having heard of this, has requested that I pursue this matter until it's completely disproved. I fear he knows more about it than I, but it's not my place to press for details from His Highness," he straightened himself out, sitting back in his seat and looking at both carefully. "Now, what did you two need?"
They both looked at eachother hesitantly for several moments before looking back at Jeremiah, and he felt a dread welling up inside him. Villetta was too confident to ever be hesitant, and Kewell... well, Kewell usually had a cocky air about him in Jeremiah's presence. Not that he didn't to some extent at that moment, of course, but the hesitance definitely took tiny shots at that cockiness. Overcoming such things and waiting as patiently as he could, Jeremiah continued to eye his two subordinates carefully in the hopes of finding anything that betrayed what they had to say.
"General Bartley Aspirus," Villetta started. "As the soon to be appointed Governor-General of Area 11, has ordered the Purist Faction to act as prison guards at the Area 11 Tokyo Settlement Holding Facility," Villetta spoke loudly and informatively, as if reading the order directly from a letter. The fact that those words had in fact come from a letter may have had something to do with that.
"And why is that?" although, deep down, Jeremiah knew the answer. There could only be one reason.
"His Highness Prince Clovis is to be held there on the grounds of abusing military authority."
o--o
"So, what exactly is it you're doing, again?" C.C. asked in bewilderment It had been two days since Lelouch had done anything remarkable and while she hadn't had any outstanding reason to tease him as of late, her mind was having a field day with remarks she could make about her roommate's atire. Surely enough, Lelouch had garbed himself in a skin tight purple outfit, consisting of a clearly too tight for comfort dress shirt and equally tight pants, both sporting golden emrboidery. Aside from that was a tulip shaped helmet placed over his head, revealing the fact that whatever he had in mind, he had no intention of revealing his identity. Lastly was a black cape thrown around his neck, with the top extending around either side of his helmet and the left side extending across his chest and toward the right side, effectively covering his chest as well as the better part of his entire body.
"Killing two birds with one stone," Lelouch replied stoically, finishing placing his helmet in place and testing the odd little things he'd done with it. Though it had taken no small amount of trouble, he had managed to allow himself to use Geass by means of a opening and closing portion of the mask over his left eye. "I'm going to free Clovis, and at the same time win the trust of the Resistance. I'm going to need both if I'm to change the world," Lelouch explained confidently.
"And how do you intend to do that? He is guilty," C.C. shot back, eyebrows raised in both in question and amusement.
"That doesn't matter. I can still protect him, and the rest of the weak, from my father."
With that, Lelouch made out the door and down the now darkened hallways of his home. It was a simple matter to dodge around any chance of being spotted by Sayako, mainly due to the fact that she was preoccupied with Nunnally as she usually was. He felt bad for disappearing without word, but he'd already determined that he had to separate his personal feelings and his duties. Even in the case of Clovis, he had convinced himself that it was simply because it would further his own goals. And even if that wasn't the case, he'd have to make that the case at some point.
o--o
"So you're saying someone reported to Britannia that they planned to break into the Tokyo Settlement Holding Facility?! Is he insane?" Tamaki cried angrilly, slamming his fist into the table nearby. In his rage he swiped his beer off the table and took back the remnants of the glass' contents, only to slam it down on the table in much the same manner.
"Perhaps," Ogi started. as soon as he'd recoiled from Tamaki's rage. "But if his aim is to get the public's attention, this is the perfect way to do it. To make the impossible possible... what do you think the chances are this guy's the guy who helped us in Shinjuku?"
"The chances are high," Yoshida commented absent-mindedly from across the room. "But if that's the case, do you think he can pull it off?"
"It's impossible," Tamaki retorted, snidely. Arguments continued in much the same way, with Tamaki as the instigator more often than not. And in the cases that such a title did not fall on him, it fell on someone who was retorting to something he said. And all the while, Ogi simply held a hand to his head in a vain attempt to calm the oncoming headache that he felt trying to overwhelm his head.
As if an angel sent from heaven to save him from the bickering of his comrades, Ogi's phone chose that moment to ring. Checking the caller ID briefly to confirm his suspicions as to who had called, he answered. "How is it, Karen?" he asked his comrade, who at that moment found herself outside the holding facility with a transmitter keeping her in contact with Lelouch, as well as any sound that should be made. Of all the Resistance, only her and Ogi had stepped up to support him when he'd called for their aid, and he'd told Ogi that he ought to make sure his comrades see the "creation of a miracle."
"He's still in there and, strangely, I haven't heard a single gunshot. But my sensor is telling me he's almost at the holding cell, so..." Karen's voice trailed off after that, simply too bewildered to continue speaking coherently. Just who was their masked revolutionary? Such a title may not suit him just yet, but both Karen and Ogi had agreed that such a name would suit him should he succeed. And so far, he looked to be doing just that.
"How can that be? Karen, are you sure you're reading it right?!" Ogi cried, equally as bewildered as his on-the-scene comrade.
"Of course! I'm not believing it either! It's as if --" he voice was cut off by a massive explosion in the background so loud that Ogi jumped just hearing it through the phone. Karen must have noticed the stifled yelp Ogi had suppressed, because she quickly explained, "There was an explosion at the top of the prison! Do you think it's Britannia... No, it's him!" she cried. By this point Ogi had put his phone on speaker, and the entire room was now aware.
o--o
"W-who are you?" Clovis stuttered, aghast.
"I'm here to save you, dear brother," Lelouch said soothingly into his ear. Or at least he tried, but speaking soothingly from beneath his mask was rather difficult. He quickly grabbed the switch he'd prepared after much agonizing use of his Geass, and pressed it. In a moment explosions were sounding from all around, and walls of the cell crumbled in a way that gave Lelouch the access to the roof he needed.
He exited through the path he'd prepared with his arm wrapped around Clovis' side, the latter of which being terrified beyond all belief. The seemingly innocent brother of an even more innocent - and crippled - Ex-Princess was now exploding prisons in order to save his half-siblings, and leading Resistance forces in an armed assault against Britannia? Somewhere down the line Lelouch had changed, and whether it had been for the better or not Clovis couldn't decide.
Spotlights immediately centered on the two, and any stray spectators were scrambling hurriedly to call any news reporters they could reach to get them to the scene. Lelouch paused for a moment, eyes searching the ground below for Karen. As soon as he spotted her, driving Clovis' stolen car haphazardly along the nearest street toward the prison. Lelouch began navigating his way to the emergency stairs that had been unlocked through another planned use of his Geass, and began the swift descent to the ground level where Karen would be waiting.
"Karen, what's your ETA?" Lelouch asked into his transmitter, having removed his hand from around his brother's waist to grasp his hand as they descended the steps two at a time, Lelouch ignoring his quickly tiring body. As he ran his mind returned to the last time he'd used emergency stairs... just two days ago at school. It was a convenient way of getting outside quickly, he conceded, but his unfit body simply didn't like the convenience as much as he did.
"Give me a minute! Britannian security is hell here!" Karen's exasperated voice cried angrilly, a tinge of distrust lacing her words. Lelouch would change that quickly enough.
"Take your first right and we'll rendezvous there. If we're going to do this, it needs to be dramatic."
"Do you have a flair for the dramatic or something? This is hard enough as it is!"
"When you agreed to help, you agreed to trust me. So long as you do, you needn't worry," Lelouch said soothingly, his calming tone easing Clovis' nerves as much as they did for Karen. If they even aided the exasperated ace pilot. Lelouch slammed his shoulder roughly through the door as they reached the first floor, stumbling out into the cold night air. He quickly disappeared into the cloak of darkness, circling around to the side where Karen was indeed waiting. "Thank you for trusting me, Karen. Now, do you have the handcuffs?"
"H-handcuffs?!" Clovis cried disbelievingly.
Lelouch lowered his head toward Clovis', and out of Karen's range of hearing. "We may be brothers, but you're our prisoner right now. At least while I save you," Lelouch explained soothingly, smiling toothily from beneath his mask. Clovis seemed to relax, and Lelouch took that to mean he'd submitted to what Lelouch had in mind. That just made things easier for him, he mused.
"Here," Karen said, handing over the handcuffs and watching as Lelouch figuratively arrested his own brother. Not that she knew that fact; even with her suspicions as to the masked man's identity, his lineage was still a complete secret to her. And if it wasn't, Lelouch thought to himself, she wouldn't be there at that moment in time. So long as she still aided him, she could suspect his identity all she liked. If she came too close, however, he'd have to act.
The handcuffed Clovis was carried atop his own car by Lelouch who, with a tap of the foot, urged Karen to drive. It started at a slow pace, turning so it was en route to the front of the prison. As he waited for his fifteen minutes of fame, Lelouch pondered where he would go from here. First, he'd need to make himself a god to the Japanese. Once he had their fanatical support, he could begin a true rebellion. One with his own army to fight his father's, and one that would end with him being king.
"Turn here and approach the forming Britannian barricade," Lelouch ordered, watching keenly as Karen acquiesced to his orders without so much as a word of protest - something that made Lelouch for the first time feel gleeful about the situation. While he was about to score his first true victory - figurative or not - over Britannia, he couldn't feel exactly pleased about forcing people against their will into positions he needed them in for his plans. Having them at least accepting did wonder for his nerves and, as a by-product, led him to try an even more cocky move. "Drive straight through."
"What?! That's going to get us killed!" she looked up at Lelouch through the open roof, who only glanced back at her once before completely returning his attention to Britannian guard consisting of the Purist Faction that had clearly failed thus far. That was all it took, and she knew exactly what his unspoken words were. She was to trust him, regardless of her personal misgivings. He would deliver a miracle, and make the impossible possible. It was a mighty thing he was offering them, to be sure, but she certainly knew they couldn't do such a thing. If he could, what reason was there to not give him the chance?
Spotlights once again threatened Lelouch's eyes' function-ability, this time at much closer range that surely would have him squinting were it not for the mask covering his face. He blessed such a thing at that moment, watching as the blockade continued to grow closer as Karen drove. "Halt!" Lelouch called at once, and Karen pressed on the brakes as quickly as she could. Lelouch fought gravity as best he could, finally succeeding in halting himself from stumbling from the sheer force of the stop.
"Who are you?" Jeremiah asked as he opened the cockpit to his Sutherland. On closer glance he noticed who exactly the released convict was, and gasped audibly. "What are you doing with Prince Clovis?!" Jeremiah cried disbelievingly. Kewell and Villetta remained seated on either side of him, at the ready in the event that they should be needed. Not that the threat was high at that moment, with one masked lunatic, a driver and a handcuffed Clovis in front of them. But better safe than sorry was a philosophy that was common knowledge to a soldier.
"I... am Zero! I have secured Prince Clovis as he is not guilty of any crimes, and in my duty as one who protects the weak I have come to clear his name!" Lelouch cried. He mentally kicked himself repeatedly, wishing he could make Britannia's view of him better. But priority rested in securing Japan's support, and proving his might was the first step to such an end. "The real culprit, General Bartley Aspirus, has been put to death under my judgment!" at this point, Lelouch tapped at the car again, and the back opened and extended upwards to reveal an open coffin holding Bartley's corpse. There was a bullet wound in the center of his forehead from Lelouch's "judgment" and his eyes were wide open to show the shock of his sudden death.
"And what proof do you have of this?" Jeremiah asked in sheer shock. Partly due to the unfolding events, but also due to the fact that the voice definitely fit the one criteria he didn't want it to believe, and he'd certainly have to investigate. '...Prince Lelouch? It can't be you, can it?'
"This," Lelouch revealed an arm from beneath his cape's cloaking, with a recorder clenched in his hand. Jeremiah raised an eyebrow as Lelouch tossed the recorder to him, and he nearly stumbled from his Sutherland in his fight to catch it. He played it to himself, listening in disbelief as General Bartley openly admitted to a man named Zero that he had abused military authority, going against Clovis' orders and ordering a full retreat to escape the wrath of the Resistance's counterattack. 'Geass is a good tool for framing people, it would seem,' Lelouch thought to himself gleefully.
Jeremiah was speechless. Was this true? Or was it some sick lie? Whatever the case was, he only had one course of action. With a wave of his hand, all raised weapons were lowered. Smiling smugly to himself, Lelouch uncuffed Clovis and sent him over to the other side. 'And now, to scare Britannia a little and make myself the King of the Japanese. And then, I'll be coming for you, father.'
--
Just a quick note here, and it's regarding the Kallen/Karen issue. She's got two different names as per her two lives, and I pointed that out through this chapter. From now on, people at school shall still refer to her as Kallen, but the name I'll opt to use otherwise will be Karen. Just clearing that up. Until next time!
