Recap: Roy got played by York, but he still has Lelouch's identity hanging over his head. Nunnally uprooted the Black King, but she still wants revenge against Clovis. Marianne is body hopping to investigate the Geass Order. Kallen adjusts to military life. Lelouch is stuck in Area Eleven because of meetings. Despite helping in tackling Clovis's human experimentation, Naoto stands apart from his old friends and fellow allies.
Chapter 21: Who We Are
In a stunning upset, Baptiste Verley claimed the presidency by a narrow margin. A political outsider, Mr. Verley managed to accrue considerable political support in the wake of the allegations made against former Secretary of Defense Poulin and alleged Chinese spy, Katherine Fang. His victory speech once again emphasized the need to purge the administration of foreign agents. To this end, he has confirmed he will appoint General Smilas as the new Secretary of Defense—a move which will probably be the last that his opponents agree with. His controversial policy of "French First" threatens to shut down immigration, restrict non-native rights, and take a more hardline stance against foreign powers. Whether he will tone down his rhetoric after officially taking office remains to be seen.
—Point de Vue: Verley to be the New EU President
Zeroth Division, Area Six
"Walk with me," Roy ordered Sergeant Major Gill as they passed each other. It was a split moment decision, but Roy knew it had to be done. Lelouch was too blinded by his feelings; sometimes things had to be done for the long term good. The justification still made his stomach squeeze painfully.
Sergeant Major Gill walked behind him silently as Roy led him outside the ring of offices and barracks. They passed the training field where platoons moved through drills with practiced ease. Colonel Lopez's familiar figure drifted on the outskirts, searching for inadequacies he could address via new drills.
On the hill, a small form ran up at a steady pace while the pack of new recruits lagged behind.
"What did Pablo do this time?" Sergeant Major Gill asked absently.
"Something about dress uniform violations."
"He called Lelouch Gosling to his face, didn't he?" He snorted. "One of us should probably tell him that Vegas likes running."
Roy shook his head and continued the climb. Somethings would never change; Pablo was completely incorrigible.
Wiping his forehead, Roy stopped on top of a large hill and squinted down at the barely discernible base hidden by trees. A helicopter passed over, bringing with it their newest supplies. A little further, he spotted small flashes of light glinting off metal. Gino was sparring against the noble girl.
Walking to the edge, Sergeant Major Gill hesitantly said, "This is a good spot for an accident. You could always claim a jaguar finished me off."
"What?" Roy asked, thoughts grinding to a halt. "Jaguars? I thought we were worried about snakes."
"Snakes make more boring stories, and they'll want to recover my corpse."
Roy stared at him, completely lost. "Why do you think I brought you out here?"
"To kill me?" Completely at ease, he stepped away from the ledge and crossed his arms. "You had a meeting with Malfoire and the Crow. I know what type of business they deal in. And, sir? You look like you're about to puke."
Roy groaned. "How can you even think that?"
"You're a full blood, aren't you?"
Somehow, Roy doubted anyone would suspect Lelouch of the same... even when Lelouch was much more likely to oversee an execution or assassination.
"No," he said. "I'm not going to kill you. And if I were to ever do such a thing, I would tell you beforehand. Not that I would, because we're on the same side."
"Noted. Well, if it's not my death, then what brings us out to the middle of nowhere?"
Roy sighed, pulled out the jammer, and turned it on. He doubted there was anything out here, but he couldn't be too careful, especially when dealing with royalty. Sergeant Major Gill's eyebrows rose, and his lips thinned.
"I learned who Lelouch's father is," Roy said. This was a betrayal, yet absolutely necessary. "He doesn't want anyone to know, yet should it come to light, there will be damning consequences. If certain individuals learnt that you know the truth, you will be assassinated. You need to know."
"Don't do something you'll regret, Roy," Sergeant Major Gill whispered. "Disobeying orders... This isn't like you."
"I was always jealous of Lelouch's courage in doing what he felt was right... and this is right... Even if he will hate me for it."
"I admit you're making me painfully curious." He took a deep breath. "Lay it on me. It can't be that bad. Lamperouge doesn't get angry easily. You're friends. Worst he'll do is be obnoxiously petty."
Roy doubted it. Lelouch was capable of much worse, and Roy was blasting through boundaries that Lelouch had explicitly set. He had never disobeyed direct orders, never had gone explicitly against Lelouch's wishes.
"His full name is Lelouch vi Britannia," Roy said softly.
"You're pulling my leg."
"Empress Marianne originally came to our division because her son had been kidnapped. Malfoire and Art were both aware... as well as Frederick and Henry. Lelouch thinks he can keep this a secret forever, but it's going to get out, especially with the Emperor wanting to parade Lelouch around."
Sergeant Major Gill turned to stare at the camp. "Fuck."
"The men love Gosling because they accept Lelouch as one of their own. He suffered with them; they know that. None of that will matter if he's a prince. I need— You know them. You know how they would react. This needs to be contained. Others have to know, or we risk a full scale mutiny."
"They'll think he's been playing him," Sergeant Major Gill said. "The royal family doesn't have the best reputation for keeping their word, especially when given to a Number." He shook his head. "But first— How the fuck?"
"Apparently, the Emperor and Empress Marianne, in their infinite wisdom, thought it wasn't a good idea to evacuate their children before invading Japan."
"No wonder he hates them," he grumbled. "And you might want to be careful with your tone around the others. We don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."
That Roy had fallen off the deep end and would like to murder the Emperor? Not that he would actually do that, he wasn't suicidal. But the impulse was there. And Lelouch would probably be better off... except that all his half-siblings would be murdering each other. There weren't any such unfortunate complications if Empress Marianne were to die though...
"Okay, we'll just be avoiding that subject for the foreseeable future." Sergeant Major Gill dusted off a rock, sat down, and massaged his temples. "Major Palmer is going to make a killing on that bet... Still can't believe it."
"On the bright side, we no longer need to worry that Lelouch will be executed for treason." Roy took a seat on a fallen log with a view of the base. Their own lives—being the only effective piece of leverage that the Emperor had over Lelouch—were still at risk. Now, the greatest threat to Lelouch would come from the people he had given everything to protect. "We need a plan."
"Have you told Vegas yet? He would never harm Lelouch."
"No. Pablo might do something rash."
"Projecting much?" Sergeant Major Gill joked. "Why me then?"
"You know the men well. Handling morale is part of your responsibilities." Roy bit his lip at the unimpressed look. "You're a Britannian."
"Only half."
"You have a foot in both camps, and you're not going to run off and do something foolish." Or Roy hoped so.
Sergeant Major Gill sighed. "We need to loop in Lopez and the other Colonels. Maybe the Lieutenant Colonels as well. Start small, so we can keep a pulse on the situation, and I'll talk to some of our more sociable staff sergeants to better keep an eye on the general mood. But the more people know, the more likely it is to leak. It's a big secret."
"It can't leak," Roy said firmly.
"I doubt Lelouch will have us killed."
"No, he will be incredibly pissed. The Emperor doesn't have any such qualms though." He raised his hand to prevent any protests. "The men's loyalty is not to the Emperor, I know, but Henry's is. He's the spy and happy to kill anyone who stumbles upon the truth."
Sergeant Major Gill's eyes tightened. Betraying Lelouch in such a manner was unforgivable. "Then we have until Lelouch returns."
Ashford Academy, Area Eleven
A small shock ran up Nunnally's cane as she bumped into the student council room's door. Light clicks filtered through the door, indicating someone was inside despite the late hour. The adrenaline from the day's activities had finally faded, and she cringed at how she had risked Suzaku like that. Had something happened to him, she would have never forgiven herself, nor would Lelouch.
Shaking her head, she opened the door. At least this wasn't an apology. "Hi, Nina. How are you doing?"
The keyboard quieted and the chair creaked. "Fine... Thank you."
Nunnally stuffed her hands inside her pockets and leaned her cane against the wall, trusting that the other student council members remembered to return each item to its customary spot. "I wanted to thank you for helping with my little side project... I can route twenty thousand pounds to your account as payment."
"You don't—"
"Did Milly tell you about..."
"What? Oh yes." Nina's voice somehow grew even meeker. "I never thought I would get the internship. It's just... I'm no one special, truly."
"Take the money," Nunnally demanded. "You'll need to pay for housing, and Pendragon is ridiculously expensive. I'm sure Lord Ashford would help you find accommodations, but you'll be seen as in his debt. It's much better if everyone is trying to sway you over to their side. You'll have more leverage."
"I'm scared," Nina whispered. "I hate it. Nobody else is like this. I can't even give a stupid book report! You're never scared. I admire that about you."
Nunnally grimaced and took a seat, her hands neatly folded together to hide her tremors. "When a peacock is threatened, it unfurls its feathers to scare them away... but it's still terrified. If the act doesn't work, it can't do anything at all. It's too weak to fight effectively. We're all like that. Everyone just pretends."
"What are you scared of?"
"That everyone will see through my mask," she said weakly. That they would see the liar she was. That she was callous, not kind. That she was utterly useless, not even normal. That she both hated and loved her brother so much that it hurt. Truth hurt more than any lie could.
"Maybe people would like me if I was a better liar." Nina's chair creaked. Her footsteps pattered to the window. "Even Milly only keeps me around because I needed to be in a club, and none of the others wanted me. Even the science club..."
"Milly's litmus test for the student council is more 'Will they insult me?' than anything of actual substantial value. She picks people she wants to be friends with. Don't read into it too much. You'd know if she doesn't like you."
"How?" Nina asked bitterly.
"There's a reason the kids that make fun of you have a long string of unfortunate or embarrassing incidents. Please... just take the money."
"Five-thousand," she stuttered. "I barely did anything."
"Now, you stand up," Nunnally grumbled half-heartedly. "Fine, but don't tell anyone, and I'll owe you a favor." Done with her task, Nunnally grabbed her cane again and stopped, hands on the cold doorknob. A small nagging voice of guilt reminded her how she had lashed out when Nina kept waffling about applying to the internship. "I'm sorry for yelling at you about not applying... I was... frustrated. I know it's hard to change how you feel."
"I got in because of you," Nina joked weakly. "In the end... the idea of never doing anything was scarier than actually doing something."
Nunnally chuckled. "Well, if that works for you. Make sure you lock up when you're done."
"Wait," Nina shouted. Soft but clammy hands grabbed hers. "I was wondering if you want, or could… Would you go out... to celebrate."
"I can't say anything, but Milly..."
"I know... I meant... Well, you were the, uhh, reason I applied. So may—maybe just the two of us? I'd pay of course."
Nunnally pulled her hand back as her heart roared in her ears. How many times had she mocked her brother for getting caught in a similar situation and completely unaware of the broken hearts left in his wake? Yet it felt so fantastical and unexpected.
Someone wanted her. Nina only knew of her ill temper and weakness, nothing of the power she wielded.
"Like a date?" she asked, her tongue heavy.
"If you want it to be," Nina squeaked. "I know, well, you always say no. It's totally okay— I don't want to, um, to presume..."
She really should say no. Euphie was the foolish one tempting fate with each of her romantic escapades. Yet she always came back so happy—or absolutely livid in a way that fascinated Nunnally. How could something so simple as a stranger elicit such strong, yet opposing emotions? What did it mean to feel like that? To share a bond not based on family, but one forged by two natural strangers?
But it was ridiculously stupid. A relationship would never survive past her fourteenth birthday when she was formally introduced to court. Already that looming deadline had fractured her bond with Allie. After her birthday, politics would dictate her relationships, especially romance.
Normally, she didn't consider her politics. Her response was an instinctive no. The instinctive knowledge that she would never find them appealing. Except now, she was even considering what a relationship would like—fabulous, dangerous, exciting.
"I lie a lot," Nunnally warned. Really, saying yes wasn't unappealing. "And my family probably won't approve." She would regret not taking the chance to experience a relationship free from external expectations. "But I'm willing to give it a chance."
"It's a d—date," Nina whispered and brushed against her hand.
"Right." Nunnally swallowed, her face uncomfortably hot, and stuttered, "I'll see you then" before leaving—not fleeing—the room. She knew how to impress, intimidate, and influence people. Her harmless routine had been perfected years ago. But she had never needed someone to like her—not in a world where only strength mattered.
Why did Nina even like her?
Rushing into her room, Nunnally turned to the scratching of a pen on paper, and her friend—even if she didn't want to remain so after Princess Nunnally walked onto the stage—and asked, "How do I make people like me?"
The pen stopped.
"You're very likeable," Allie said. "Is this about Euphie and her wanting to tell her sister because this time he is definitely the one?"
"What? That's a terrible idea." Nunnally shook her head and collapsed on the bed. "You don't understand. Nina asked me out on a date. And I said yes! What do I do?"
"Nina?" Allie asked. "Are you sure that was her? Not some imposter?"
"I can't ask, Lelouch. He's completely hopeless!" Oh no… Her nose crinkled at the orange scent as she buried her face in the pillow. "What do I tell him?"
Allie groaned. "Go on the date and afterwards say sorry and that it won't work out. You're a princess. She'd probably faint at the idea. Seriously, you can do better."
That was the smart move... "But I don't want to!"
She wanted that connection. The romance of a knight slaying a dragon in the name of his princess. The mindless passion which her mother wielded in her father's name. The unconditional love where nothing mattered but the other.
Nina saw this opportunity with her; they lived in worlds apart, only brought together by chance. Nunnally should marry some snobby noble boy whose money dwarfed his sense and would only agree to become part of royalty; Nina didn't know, yet wanted her; Nunnally wanted her even as everything screamed no.
She groaned into the pillow. Why were emotions so difficult?
Geass Order, Location Classified
Sitting in her wheelchair in a strange mix between a lab and office, Marianne realized that maybe she should have listened to Charles and tested her geass more comprehensively. Katherine was turning out to be the most annoying host, especially as her mind refused to die. For now, Marianne mostly had control over her host's body as long as she relinquished control for research—something which she was honestly happy to do.
"Who are you?" Katherine asked, standing before the bookshelf that stretched endlessly into the sky. She watched her warily. "You're corrupting my mind."
Marianne glanced down at her plain dress—eerily similar to the one which she had worn when working in Lord Ashford's labs. The dress had been destroyed in an unfortunate accident as coolant unexpectedly leaked from the knightmare. Charles would probably find the entire thing fascinating. Marianne merely wanted to return home and verify that Lelouch was safe.
"You have a geass, don't you?" Katherine asked. She stepped closer, eyes wide in fascination. "Memory alteration or confusion is quite common... but this? I've never seen anything quite like it. It's like... you're here? In my mind?" She drew back as if suddenly realizing where she was. "Is this your mind?"
"It's yours," Marianne said and rolled her chair forward to the edge of some steps. She desperately hoped that her mind had nothing as obnoxious as stairs. Was it even possible for her to know? A few years after they met, C.C. had described her mind as a museum filled with lavish paintings. Perhaps she had meant it literally.
"But why?" Katherine asked. "I've been loyal. Why would His Grace punish me like this? Or... You're betraying him."
Marianne flinched at the growl. "I'm not." A lie died on her tongue. Shit. "Lady C.C. and I have a contract. She worked with V.V."
"Yes... I've heard of her. She went missing a few years back." Muttering to herself, Katherine drifted through the room as she pulled various books from the shelves.
"I am trying to find her," Marianne said and silently thanked the Collective Unconscious for begrudgingly accepting it as the truth.
"But Master V.V. would never hurt her." Shaking her head, Katherine returned to her desk. There, she frantically flipped through various papers. "I can't help you. You need to leave. This is my mind."
"This is my only lead," Marianne said. Lips pressed together, she carefully considered her next words. "I don't wish to be here. Once I learn everything I can know, I promise I will go home."
Katherine nodded, not pleased, but accepting. "You need to stop interfering in my research."
"Of course. If I have your word that you'll keep this matter private."
"Fine," she spat and slammed shut one of the drawers. Here, where truth mattered, promises were binding. Pulling herself onto her desk, she pulled out a notebook and stared at her expectantly. "Also, you don't get to eat my meals. I like tasting them. Where are your memories stored? Do you have an active connection to your body? How does that work? Geass requires eye contact for anything permanent. Or are you sleeping in a cleaning closet somewhere?"
"We met briefly," Marianne explained.
She threw her notebook down. "But that doesn't make any sense! And how old are you even? The subjects always succumb to their geass before their twenties. Why would Lady C.C. waste a contract on someone such as yourself."
Crossing her arms, Marianne glared at the insolent woman. "Thirty-seven. You're misinformed. There are others even older than myself with a geass. We have a life outside of the Order."
Katherine hastily grabbed the notebook and scribbled down a note. "A life? Are you married?"
"Yes."
"You have a real job?"
"You don't?"
"You know what I mean," she said. "I love it here, and I'm so honored... but I miss my family. The farthest I could ever go was the town, and now... Well, I doubt I'll be seeing the sky anytime soon."
"I have a job unrelated to the Geass Order," Marianne confirmed. "Once I find someone who has regular access to the outside, I won't need you anymore. My job will be complete."
Katherine's eyes brightened. The world shifted again as Marianne opened her eyes to see Katherine's bedroom. In the back of her mind, she could still feel her host's presence, but for now, she was content to linger and allow Marianne to take control. The body felt lighter and limber than ever before with none of the stiffness Marianne had grown accustomed to.
"You couldn't walk in my mind," Katherine said as Marianne opened the door and stepped into the common area where researchers lounged between empty mugs of coffee and piles of paperwork. "Does your geass allow you to borrow my muscle memory? If you geassed a master duelist would you still win?"
Marianne sighed and whispered, "I don't know."
"You're really quiet."
And she couldn't distinguish between her host and the people around her. This was such a pain.
At Katherine's prodding, Marianne took a right. Passing an open door, she paused upon seeing V.V.'s assistant, Amelia, staring at the monitor with her hand outstretched. The woman clearly didn't like her, but she was Marianne's best lead.
"The target has not displayed any unusual talents but shows worrying signs of discontentment with the Empire. Attempts to grow closer to her or her friends have been rebuffed. No, Your Grace. I am sorry. I did not think—"
Amelia snatched back her arm and stiffened, shoulders rising, as she entered the room. "Do you need anything?"
"No... The door wasn't locked." Marianne's attention drifted to the screen as a young boy about Nunnally's age writhed in pain for a moment before his lips moved without a hint of expression. "He is rather young to be sent on missions."
"He has a heart condition. It's best to maximize his utility before it becomes fatal," Amelia said monotonously. "Even if he could learn more first."
A burst of annoyance came from the back of her mind, and Marianne pushed her host back. "Is there anything that can be done?"
"Why do you care?" Ameila snarled and stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her.
The boy continued his report, lips moving silently. Surrounded by industrial equipment, he looked inconceivably fragile. His purple eyes—the wrong shade compared to her or Charles, yet strangely familiar—bore into her accusingly. If she was a better person, she would put an end to this. At least he was useful enough to escape the cruel experimentation of the other researchers.
"Why do you care?" Katherine asked. "He's been blessed."
Marianne swallowed. "I have a daughter his age. I miss her."
"You were allowed to?" Katherine sighed wistfully. "Lady C.C. must have appreciated your services very much."
"Allowed to? More like nature insisted despite every precaution," Marianne grumbled. And it had done so twice. She would've much preferred to wait a little longer until Charles had stabilized his newly seized throne. Or until she actually had a moment to breathe and process the whirlwind that had elevated a commoner to a knight and then to an Empress. Or until her children would've been too young to ever be considered a part of the machinations for the throne.
She hadn't needed a child to feel secure in Charles's commitment. His so-called commitment to his other wives hadn't helped them in the end.
1821 Clovis St., Tokyo, Area Eleven
Perfectly Britannian without a hint of foreign influence described the town house. The pinnacle of the Britannian standard, the Imperial Pendragon, was less Britannian than this. Admittedly, Lelouch's mother was behind the various redecoration attempts in recent years that made the palace slightly less of an eye sore. Now, it was more a museum of stolen splendor.
"Your Highness," stammered a young servant. "We were not expecting you."
Ignoring him, Lelouch strode through the long thin corridors and up the stairs to where he knew Kaguya would be unpacking from her trip to China. She abhorred routine, but this was a habit she hadn't been able to shake from her childhood. Heavy footsteps cut off the young servant's protests, and Lelouch risked a glance back to make sure his two guards weren't scaring the poor boy too badly. He was either foolish enough to court death or one of Kaguya's charity projects. She had to stop picking people off from the street. It made security hellish.
Lelouch knocked once before letting himself into the tea room.
"I said we were to be left alone," Kaguya barked from the neighboring bedroom.
"And here I thought you would be faithful," he teased.
A muffled bang and a string of Japanese curses made him raise his eyebrow, especially as an older voice reprimanded her. The door banged open in a distinctly unlady-like fashion, and Kaguya, dressed in a loose fitting summer dress, shouted, "Lelouch!"
"My ears."
"What are you doing here? You didn't say anything about being in Area Eleven." A slight glimmer of suspicion entered her eyes as she fluttered her eyelashes. "Did you miss me that much?"
"Respect," Henry growled. Lelouch fixed the two of them a stern glare. Henry remained unabashed, and a slight shake of his head from Frederick meant that he wouldn't be getting any privacy.
"You were gone?" Lelouch asked dryly.
She giggled, shaking her head. "I would offer tea, but I know that is a lost cause. May I tempt you with an apple?"
"A red one if you will; green is far too treacherous." He caught the apple easily, the skin free from blemishes or bruises. It broke sweetly between his teeth.
"Your highness," Kirihara interrupted from the doorway, lips disappearing within sallow wrinkles. His hand, swallowed by wide, traditional Japanese sleeves, trembled as he supported his weight on the carved bamboo cane. He reeked of Japan whereas Kaguya barely acknowledged her heritage on Britannian soil. "To what do we owe the honor?"
Lelouch almost bowed, shifting the movement into a slight incline of his head. While Kirihara had officially betrayed Japan and aided the Britannian invasion, he had also lived in the former Prime Minister's shadow and clung to the old notions of honor and duty. Betraying one's country was a move that Lelouch couldn't help but suspect.
"I heard my friend returned from abroad and being in town, decided to swing by," Lelouch answered. "I admit I did not expect you to be here. My brother has been complaining incessantly that you are too busy to advise him in matters of the state due to being occupied with planning the upcoming Sakuradite Conference."
"I too wanted to check in on my ward." Hopefully that meant he was trying to recruit her instead of Kaguya already working for the JLF. "Pardon me for my intrusion, Your Highness, but as her guardian my duty is to protect her virtue and prevent unsavory rumors."
Lelouch rolled his eyes. "My guards are here."
"And they are not... How shall we say this? Men of well known repute. Their loyalty belongs to you."
"If anything," Kaguya grumbled, "it is his chastity they must protect."
Behind him, Frederick failed miserably at stifling his chuckles. Henry, of course, moved forward in an apparent attempt to prevent any untowardness.
Kirihara whirled towards his young, smirking charge. "Kaguya!"
"I do hope I have not led you to believe some pretense," Lelouch said warily. He enjoyed joking with Kaguya, but Roy had made it clear that simple manners came across as flirting which was not his intention. Kaguya's antics weren't out of affection, but amusement. "I have no intentions to your ward whatsoever, especially on her... virtue."
"Unfortunately," Kaguya said. What the hell did that mean? "A demon cannot, even in the dreamy night, capture royalty's black heart. Our blood quickens like the fresh, innocent, spring creek."
That was a relief. "Thank you. I've been made aware that others do not feel the same."
"Leila?" She shook her head exasperatedly. "You might need glasses."
"Thank you," Lelouch growled. He already had to deal with the fact that his parents thought him dense. "You could have told me."
"But where would the fun be?"
"I think I just heard our fragile bond of trust shatter."
Kaguya took a step forward. Then another. And another, Until she was barely out of arm's reach. She tilted her head. "I think it worked out perfectly."
He had spelled out the rules of Britannia for her; she spelled out the unwritten rules of politeness that Lelouch had never bothered to learn. Except those hadn't been rules of politeness...
"You told me what to say... and knew how it sounded," Lelouch accused and took a step forward to glare down at her. "Do you think it's funny that everyone sees me as some sort of rake now?"
Her eyebrows scrunched together. "A flirt? You hardly needed any help. Did you know there are entire web serial dedicated to the royal family's exploits? Yours among them."
"Exploits?" Outside of his success with the treaty, he should have nothing to his name. Or had Zero finally leaked? Why was she so calm about this?
"Oh, yes. Names changed of course. It's Collin the Grand and his seductress of an assassin, Molly. Catherine and Guilford: the charming young lady and her majestic knight. Luke, a world class chess player who leads a double life as a chef, and his young true love, an up and coming servant. Usually a girl, sometimes a boy."
Slowly, horror dawned upon him and he gaped, unable to articulate anything.
"They're quite exquisite too although they take some anatomical license. Molly is—"
"Absolutely not!" Lelouch shouted. His parents... Why? "Where? How? What the hell?"
Kaguya sniffed. "You didn't even let me get to the good part. The heartbreak, the romance, the ar—"
"I do not know you anymore," Lelouch said. And he thought the random ramblings of his men were due to being away from home. But no. They merely lacked the internet. He shuddered. There were stories of him and his parents?
Kirihara treated the situation with the horror it deserved, hand splayed across his face. "Kaguya..."
"You're definitely the one that needs a chaperone," Lelouch mumbled. "This is so... unbelievably. Where?"
"You'll just get it taken down." She waved him off. "Don't try to lie."
"But—" Yes, he definitely would.
"Think of the possibilities. The influence over all these impressionable minds."
"Kaguya," Kirihara interrupted, his disapproval heavy in the air. "If His Highness asks for this site, you will oblige."
"But he won't. Will you, Lelouch?"
He looked away from her piercing, pleading green eyes. This was all a game to her. Even if the site was taken down, a new one would spring up elsewhere to replace it. Saying no would cost him nothing and make her owe him a favor... except Henry, who was behind him, would definitely report that the sanctity of the royal family had been breached.
"I will," Lelouch said.
A scowl flashed across her face, and she pressed her finger to her lower lip. "Hmm... I forgot."
"Excuse me, Your Highness," Kirihara interrupted and dragged her out of the room.
The door shut making the shouts nigh unintelligible. At least Lelouch didn't have to worry that she was easily swayed by Kirihara.
Lelouch turned awkwardly to his guards. Henry thrummed, his fingers twitching to concealed weapons, and his hard eyes focused on the door. Frederick... his dopey smile dropped, and he clutched his stomach, bursting out into laughter.
"Stop it," Henry hissed.
"Can't. This is the second best thing to happen this week," Frederick wheezed. "Probably a bad time to mention that Pablo requisitioned some pieces which took some artistic liberties with our favorite Gosling."
"You have to be joking," Lelouch hissed. He was going to temporarily demote Pablo down to a private. Maybe then he would finally learn his lesson.
"He keeps the ones he likes in a folder taped to the bottom of the drawer. Alex is in on it too."
Mindful of their lack of privacy, Lelouch grit his teeth. At least he now knew the probable origin of the picture hanging in Art's office where a goose ate the entrails of a crow. "We're going to talk about this later."
The door opened again, and Kaguya entered, her head bowed demurringly. "I apologize for my behavior, Your Highness. I can have the site's name in a week for you."
Lelouch pinched his nose. "No. I will follow up if need be. Joking aside, I was hoping to discuss something with you."
Her eyes flicked to his guards. "Will your guards be joining us in the sitting room? They are free to enjoy themselves in the neighboring billiards room."
"Unfortunately"—Lelouch sighed—"they are rather overly adamant with my security lately. Thank you for the offer."
"Did something happen?" she asked. "You do look rather tired."
Walking besides her, Lelouch listened to the three soft pairs of footsteps following them. "No. Clovis is a little exhausting. Between him and General Bartley, they somehow managed to lose a few million pounds. The money earmarked for infrastructure has also landed in some more flamboyant endeavors, instead of boring things such as maintenance. In the years they have lived here, none of them have ever apparently wondered how the city does not flood during heavy rains."
"The sewers?"
"Woefully undermaintained and some genius had the bright idea of filling some tunnels due to recent terrorism activity. It's pitiful."
She hummed. "Kirihara, was the Kyoto House ever contacted for advice?"
"No," he answered.
"They wouldn't, not with Kusukabe having alleged ties," Lelouch warned. Her shoulders stiffened marginally—message received. "I did manage to convince my brother to entrust the task to Lord Ashford. He is hoping to find someone who has personal experience with the matter."
"An Eleven?" Kaguya asked, surprised.
"A Japanese civil engineer who worked on the sewers before would be ideal," Lelouch confirmed.
Kaguya called for the servant, ordered him to bring refreshments, and took a seat on the leather armchair. "So have you moved on from selling furniture to auditing your siblings' misplaced assets?"
Lelouch noted with amusement that Kirihara took the closest free seat, forcing his guards to take two, distant, wooden chairs. "It's not an audit. If I can assist my brother in getting his finances in order, there is no need to escalate. My position is merely temporary; my father has much more skilled assets for the task."
"And what will you do upon returning?"
"Herding birds."
She chuckled. "The frustrating thing is that it's somehow the truth."
"You know me too well." Lelouch accepted the cup of tea from the trembling servant and set it aside. Once the boy had left the room, he raised an eyebrow. "If you continue, I won't warn you the next time I find them unsavory."
"I have nothing to hide." She sipped her tea slowly. "Now about that favor?"
"I want the list of names of the Knight Police officers who are acting beyond the scope of their position. Proof of their indiscretion would be immensely helpful."
He could do nothing to protect Suzaku, nor could he offer direct aid without destroying Japan. But making their lives a little more comfortable and reducing wanton violence? That he could do.
"And what will happen when the nobles hear that one of their princes is turning against 'might is right'? The Purists are your enemy."
Lelouch smiled ruefully. "I was going to give the list to Nunnally. I have the distinct impression that she is bored, and that's a sentiment both my parents learned to fear when expressed by myself."
"Nunnally?" She ran her finger along the edge of the cup absently, then set it aside. "Her birthday is coming up soon. Does that mean I will be seeing more of her?"
"I hope not," Lelouch said darkly. He would make sure that she could live her life as freely as possible. If he couldn't be there for her, he could at least give her this. "My father fortunately only cares about the eldest of us, so my sister is beyond his concern as long as I perform satisfactorily."
Kaguya winced. "Lelouch..."
"Will you help me?" Lelouch asked impatiently. "Nunnally has formed her own connections which she can leverage against them. Once the Knight Police realizes their crimes will be prosecuted, they will clean up their act. Everyone will be better off for it."
"Alright, but you'll need to let me ask the question next time."
Lelouch shook his head. She still insisted on their charade. "You'll need to pursue someone eventually, else you will be stuck with whoever my father decides."
"Thank you for your concern."
"Although speaking of, Clovis insisted on another party, and while I am sure you were invited, would you do the honor of accompanying me? I need someone to keep the vultures away."
"Promise to let me down gently, and we have a deal. You could have led with that, you know."
Location Classified, Area Six
With each agonizing push-up and mile in the sweltering heat, Kallen settled more into her new subservient role. P.E. had been strenuous at Ashford, but Gino's training pushed her even further, beyond what she thought she was capable of. Her new diet would've made her step-mother gasp in horror.
Despite her physical improvements, Gino continued to dominate her in every knightmare spar. When she finally determined how to counter him, he would suddenly increase the difficulty again, emphasizing exactly how large the gap between them was. He always laughed off her frustration, assuring her she would get better with more experience. Kallen wasn't getting better. She hadn't even managed to scratch his knightmare. It was infuriating.
"You need to eat more," Gino said, plopping down on the seat across from her. "And drink more. You're losing weight, and I've put way too much work in trying to convince Mr. Eight to keep you."
"Who?"
"The general." Gino waved absently. "He was always so uptight, quite the opposite of Gosling, and his nickname was so boring before. Hilarious as hell admittedly, but it didn't have the right ring to it. Although on the opposite side of the base, they keep insisting on Seagull. Who the hell thinks that's a good name!"
Kallen shoveled some food down and grimaced at the slightly bitter tinge. She was so spoiled at home by the specially prepared meals. Gino, meanwhile, had returned to his favorite topic—Gosling.
Privately, Kallen thought Gino was harboring a major crush on his commander. He just wouldn't shut up about him. Gosling was supposedly smart enough to outmaneuver the Emperor himself. Charismatic enough that people threw themselves to the ground at his feet. And an excellent cook. The last part was apparently very important.
As a middle aged man stepped into the clearing, cardboard cylinders under his arm, Gino's head shot up, and he waved enthusiastically. "Playing the role of carrier pigeon today, Art?"
Art snorted and dumped his package on the table. "Nice to see you too, Gino."
"Gosling?"
He rolled his eyes and took a seat. "Will be back when the Emperor finally deigns it appropriate. Exactly like the last time you asked. Anyway, we finally got a location for one of our little pesky bandit groups. Did you finally get that infrared camera installed? There'll be heavy undergrowth, and if they escape, we're back at square one."
Unusually serious, Gino pulled out the map and spread it across the table. His finger drifted to a large area highlighted in red and pursed his lips. "Factosphere works fine, but I'm more worried about distinguishing the terrorists from the local tribe here.'
"Can't be helped," Art said. "One of our interpreters is supposed to be making contact at nightfall to tell them to stay clear, but if they actually understand or listen is a different matter."
"Tribes?" Kallen interrupted, forgetting herself.
Art's lips quirked. "Area Six has the largest percentage of unsurveyed land with an unknown number of uncontacted indigenous tribes. We mostly leave them alone, and have a few in each region that are amicable and warn us if there's unusual activity. Minimizing contact is essential for their health."
"But…" The ruthless devastation of Japan flashed through her mind. "Britannian policy is to subjugate everyone."
"They're not a threat." Art shrugged and unrolled a large photo of haphazardly strewn structures in a fresh cut clearing. "Gosling isn't going to waste energy on them when there are much more pressing issues."
Gino whistled. "How did we even get this?"
"Balloons," Art said dryly. "There's a military convo that this group plans to raid. Intelligence suggests one or two knightmares—salvaged Glasgows. You'll be prioritizing setting up a perimeter. We don't want anyone sending a warning to the main camp. Don't run after the knightmare."
"But—" Gino whined.
"Give engineering a chance to test their new toys. You can play cleanup. We need the knightmare fully operational for the assault on the base."
Reluctantly, Gino agreed, and Kallen half-heartedly tried to keep track of the conversation as rampant abbreviations flew above her head. Seeing Gino ask clarifying questions and offering suggestions without a hint of a smile hinted at the ruthless soldier she knew he had to be.
The illusion broke as Gino took a sloppy bite of his meal. "I got it. Geez, Art. I'm not that stupid."
Art raised an eyebrow. "Past actions speak differently."
"I know knightmares, none of that other useless stuff. All those useless rules just fill your head with pointless noise."
"I'm not the one you need to convince, and he very much disagrees on the importance of knowing rules."
"Gosling makes everyone look as smart as an actual goose next to him." Gino gave him a knowing look. "Or can you actually keep up with him when he gets into those moods?"
Art shook his head tiredly. "Best you can do is do as you're told and then ask him to explain later. Fine. Just don't mess things up. I have enough on my plate without being torn a new one for not breaking things down enough for you."
"Hey—"
"Not an insult." Art paused and indecipherable eyes focus on Kallen. "How are you settling in, Lady Kallen?"
"It's an adjustment," she answered tightly.
"Do a lot of students your age join the Knightmare Corps?" he asked. "I hear Ashford Academy offers an extremely competitive education, even for nobles."
"No… I was told my skills in a knightmare would be wasted inside the classroom." Something told her lying would be an extremely bad idea.
"I've never been to Area Eleven. Do you like it?"
"It's home."
Gino groaned. "Come on. That's boring! Stop interrogating her. She's a quick learner and that's all that matters."
"Doesn't feel like it," Kallen grumbled.
"So when will she be ready for a mission?" Art asked. "Having a second knightmare would be useful."
Shrugging, Gino appraised her. "Honestly, if this mission wasn't so delicate, I'd have her come along. But she has no experience coordinating with infantry... or actually being in live combat. The first kill is always the hardest, you know."
Her stomach lurched painfully.
"I'll ask them to find you something simple with low risk... There has to be something."
"What do you do?" Kallen asked slowly. His uniform lacked any indication of rank, and when he stood, the hem of his pants lifted to reveal a bulky ankle bracelet which blinked ominously.
"Whatever I need to be." His smile lost its inquiring edge as his face relaxed into honest amusement. "Today I'm the letter crow."
Unexpectedly, Gino burst into a loud fit of laughter.
"Do you mind if I watch your spar this evening, my lady? We're all a bit curious to see what you have to offer."
Her shoulders prickled, and she ducked her head. "I would be delighted."
"It's not that funny," Art reprimanded as Gino kept giggling like a small delighted child.
"Yes, it is," Gino said between large calming laughs. "You're doing alright? Things aren't getting out of hand with others since Gosling disappeared?"
"It's not that," Art said tiredly. "Well, if I could get some socks that would be nice."
"Done," Gino said. "You really should tell Gosling."
"It's fine, Gino. I can work around minor inconveniences."
"Not if they're overworking you," he growled. "You look like you haven't slept in days. I have a paper that says sleep is necessary... Well, I didn't read it, but Gosling threw it at me after I kept doing all nighters, and it says so in the title."
"Gosling needs to take his own advice," Art mumbled. "No, it's not their fault. Malfoire is on thin ice. I've been double checking all his paperwork so he doesn't pull another fast one. Honestly... It's okay." He checked his watch and his face twisted. "I'll be back later to watch that spar. Need to check on Nitric's little project. Make sure he doesn't blow us up sky high."
"Your... coworkers don't like you?" Kallen interrupted. Something about his demeanour felt strange—broken yet proud.
"He's serving out a life sentence here," Gino answered grimly. "Many don't think his punishment was harsh enough."
"They call me Crow for a reason," Art answered her inquiring look. "Like in the Crows."
"You betrayed them," Kallen said stiffly, her lips curling in automatic distaste. The Crows had, for a moment, been a shining beacon of hope. She had waited anxiously in anonymous internet chatrooms to learn of the latest developments—the one which Britannia would never share. The army had slaughtered thousands, many only guilty of association.
Then Zero won, and Britannia declared the Count had been responsible for the Bombing of Truro. How convenient.
This man had turned his back on a righteous cause to save his own life.
"Loyalty is important to you, isn't it?" Art asked. "The Crows were losing... Would you rather have me waste my life on a lost cause?"
"I wonder at a man's honor who can so easily turn his back on a cause he swore himself too." The mere idea of betraying Kaguya scraped painfully against her heart. Oaths meant something.
"Death is a harsh punishment, my lady."
"Then maybe don't swear yourself to causes you're not prepared to die for."
"And what if you were misled? Or they betrayed your values?"
What if Kaguya betrayed Japan? No, she would never, yet even then... "I would have failed... and if they did, I would kill them myself instead of breaking my oaths."
"How Britannian of you," Art said wryly.
She suppressed a violent flinch. No, betraying others was the Britannian way. Their loyalties shifted as easily as the wind, always following the rising star, but never remaining when the situation turned dire.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady," Art said and bowed formally before heading on his way.
Gino silently tidied up the maps with clumsier hands than the norm. "Be nicer to him, Stadtfeld. He gets enough shit from the others."
"He's a traitor," she growled.
"His heart is in the right place." Gino shook his head. "Sometimes I hate him so much that I can't bear the sight of his face. The worst part is that he hasn't even really changed. He still holds onto the same beliefs. He still despises Britannia. What he did was unforgivable, yet... his heart was in the right place. In the end that must matter for something."
How could someone who believed strongly enough to join a revolutionary group—and continued to hold to those same beliefs—not find them entirely incompatible with working in Britannia?
Outer Concession, Tokyo, Area Eleven
Naoto raised his fist, gently knocked on the door, and tried to ignore the prying eyes peeking between patched curtains. The neighborhood was nice for the area; his mother could be living closer to the ghettos where the streets became too narrow and a young—or even elderly—woman would never risk walking alone. The buildings also had signs of regular maintenance with only one boarded up window. Lord Ashford had kept to his promise to ensure his mother was well taken care of.
Yet Naoto was betraying him.
Ohgi and the others never appreciated what he was putting on the line. He had more to lose than any of them, and simply by helping, he was pushing against his oaths to save lives, not take them. Collateral damage was inevitable, especially with the upcoming raid.
He refused to pick up a gun, but he would still be responsible anyway.
"Oscar, no! Don't open the door," a woman shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you to wait for me. Do you understand me?" The door opened by a little silver, metal chain rattling and a kitchen knife glinting ominously. With a small gasp, she shut the door again, slid the chain, and opened the door fully. "Naoto?"
"Kaasan," he whispered, slipping back into Japanese. He had always told himself it was safer not to visit. That she would be better off not seeing her Britannian son and knowing she could never join him. Or maybe he had been too busy and then too scared of her rejection. She looked so much older now, and he wondered how a few years could radically change a person. It had been merely a hectic blink of an eye as he threw himself into his studies and acted as Ashford's assistant on the side. "Mother," he whispered again. "It's been a while."
"Who are you?" the small boy behind her demanded rudely. He had their mother's eyes, but his father's and Kallen's bright red hair which was somehow even more rowdy. A blossoming black eye weld his left eye shut. "Mama, who is he? Should I beat him up? Nenji taught me a new move. Kick him right in the no-touch zone. I don't like him..."
"Come on in, Naoto," his mother said.
She twisted her hands in her shirt as he stepped through the doorway and took off his hat. The inside of the small house was kept neat and tidy. While none of the items were visibly expensive, they were of good quality. Next to him, a baseball bat leaned against a small table where the rusty kitchen knife rested. It hurt to think she might have needed to use it.
"You know him, Mama?" Oscar, his brother, asked. He narrowed his one eye and scowled. "I know all about your kind. We're not buying anything."
"Oscar," his mother reprimanded, slapping his head. "Don't be rude."
"But I don't like Brit bastards!"
Naoto flinched. Too Britannian for Japan as Ohgi's group had made unfathomably clear, and now, his own brother. But too Japanese to be the Statdfeld heir or help his sister.
"This is Naoto," his mother said softly. "Remember? Your brother?"
"Then why isn't he ever here? I've never seen him before. You're lying!"
He hadn't meant to abandon them; visiting was risky.
She winced. "Go get us some refreshments."
"I don't want to." He stomped his foot, crossed his arms, and snarled at Naoto. "He's gonna backstab you. Like Ms. Sarah. She promised all of us cake, but only gave it to Robin because he's a good kid. I was good too. I didn't call her chicken head."
"Room, now! We don't call—"
"But I said I didn't—"
"Clean up your room, and you may have some cookies,"—she paused—"if you behave."
Watching the boy race off after one last vicious glare, Naoto chuckled. The door slammed shut. "I'm somewhat reminded of Kallen..."
His mother sighed before her eyes suddenly narrowed at a suspiciously loud thump. "I need to be able to open the closet!"
"Yes, Mama!"
"He's a good kid, but... It's hard, you know?" she whispered. Tidying up various stray items, she led him to the tiny two person table crammed against the wall in the kitchen. On it was a cold cup of extremely watered down coffee and a stack of papers. "How is Kallen?"
Right to the difficult questions which he wished he had an answer to.
"Lord Ashford didn't tell you?"
"The last time I saw Lord Ashford was when he barged in on me with Oscar because you couldn't keep quiet during your father's negotiations." She examined her coffee cup sadly. "Coffee?"
"I think I will pass," Naoto said.
She shrugged and refilled her cup with the same watered down filth. "Don't misunderstand me, I am grateful for his help. I have paperwork saying Oscar was born after the invasion, fathered by a Britannain soldier. Deceased of course. And since I was an Honorary before his birth... I managed to petition for his full citizenship despite there being no marriage certificate. Not that it helps much when everyone knows a Japanese is a Number."
"That's good. That's good," Naoto mumbled. "How is he?"
She snorted. "How do you think? You remember how much trouble you and Kallen had as a red-head? Or what was his name? Tamaki? It's worse now. He fits in nowhere."
"The blackeye?" He forgot how often he needed to defend Tamaki against childish ridicule; back then, his wealth protected him. Oscar had no such protections.
She nodded. "Surprising how many fights a six-year old can get into."
"And how are you?" Naoto asked hesitantly. She had lost the most out of all of them. Two children, her husband, her career. "If you're working too hard..."
"I'm fine. Really. I translate old Japanese records in one of Lord Ashford's offices. He's hired quite a few Honorary Britannians. Work has picked up a little with terrorism. Britannia wants to know who they were before the invasion." Her eyes caught him in a piercing look. "Stop avoiding the subject. What happened to Kallen?"
"She's an ace," Naoto whispered and averted his eyes from her rapidly paling face. "Lord Ashford thinks she has the potential to be a Knight of the Round. He is... concerned. And then Kallen and Father were caught up in an assassination attempt, so she decided to join the army." He dug his fingers into his palm. "I thought... I thought I was finally getting through to her. She was letting me in again, talking to me. But she came back from the trip and absolutely refused to talk to me. I can't— My sister is in the Britannian army, Empress Marianne is itching to fight her, and I can't do anything to help her."
"Hey,"—she reached across the table and caught his hand—"you'll figure this out. You always protected Kallen, and I know I can trust you to keep trying. Kallen always needed to do things her own way. She will be fine."
"I don't even know which Area she is in. She could be here." The backup when the next riot started. "We would be... enemies." He pulled back and closed his eyes. Kallen could be there protecting one of the military installations for which Ohgi had drawn up attack plans last night. They needed sakuradite fuel cells if their salvaged knightmare would be of any use. He could hurt her and never know it. "I don't know what to do... Ohgi... I just want to help."
"Doctors help people. The Memorial Hospital does good work."
"I work there." Naoto chuckled. "It doesn't feel like enough. The Knight Police camp outside, you know. They're waiting for patients to come in or out. We can only protect them inside... except sometimes they force their way in, and I'm standing there completely useless as one of us alerts Lord Ashford, and then we wait as they interrogate them or even drag them outside, all until Lord Ashford finally calls and threatens them to back off. I speak with Lord Ashford on a regular basis... But he either chooses to do nothing or can't do anything. Nothing will ever change."
"I'm sure your patients appreciate you," she said diplomatically.
"Ugh," Oscar whined, stomping in the room. "Why are you talking about that old fart?"
"Respect," Naoto hissed automatically.
"Don't discipline my son!" She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but that's not your place to interfere. You left. You have a life now. Maybe it's not perfect, but there's a chance for you. I was a lawyer. I used to battle Brit lords in court until they expired underneath those ridiculously fancy clothes. Now..." She waved at the papers. "I'm a mindless little drone. Oscar, you, hell, even Kallen. That's where the future lies. You have the opportunity to lead a better life. To show everyone a better life."
"And be called Britannia's bitch?" he asked.
Her nose wrinkled. "Language. There are children present."
"Mama, he said a bad word," Oscar whined. "You're in trouble."
"Okaasan and I are adults," Naoto said. "We get to say bad words."
Oscar turned his head sideways, "What's 'okaasan'?"
How could he not know? Naoto turned to his mother, not comprehending. Mother, the Japanese word for mother... How could he not know?
"Don't worry about it." His mother ruffled Oscar's hair. "It's a little nickname between us. It's terribly embarrassing. Can I trust you to never tell it to anyone? Let it be our little secret."
Oscar frowned heavily before nodding. "But I want cookies!"
"Quite the little lordling you are," his mother admonished.
"No, I'm not! I'd never be like them."
"Well then, mind your manners. You may have one cookie. Only one." She smiled fondly as he clambered up a stool and lay on his belly to grab the jar of cookies.
"Have you been taking time for yourself?" Naoto asked, looking for warm, safer topics, at least in the presence of his little brother. His heart ached at him not knowing anything about Japan at all. Was that the future—nation forgotten? "Raising him by yourself must be hard."
"I have a few friends, and your father— Well, he truly shouldn't be, but he hired someone to stop by once a week and let me take the day off. It's rather thoughtful of him." A frown slipped across her face. "I miss him, but... It's best that we stay away. I see him sometimes though at court... He shouldn't be there either."
"Court?" Naoto asked, confused.
"A little non-profit which takes cases pro-bono. No idea how they got permission to operate. Rumor has it that the Kyoto House or the first prince was involved. Ms. Zoe seems to think Empress Marianne's son is involved, truly baffling. Like she'd allow any project which helps Honoraries. Anyway, I work there as an interpreter on the weekend. Well, officially at least. Ms. Zoe often asks me to help her with research or her statements. I am technically the most experienced lawyer in the room."
"Congratulations," Naoto said, his smile honest. After the invasion, all he remembered was her downtrodden expression, often more dead than alive.
"What about you? Anything you do on your day off? Or do you work from dawn to dusk?"
Laughing, he shook his head. "All of us have better offers on the table, and they know it. Lucy and I sometimes spend lunch together. She covers for me if anything comes up. Karl and Louis work in radiology; they always have entertaining stories to tell. And..." He pursed his lips. "Well, Frederick and I have been getting a drink in the evening. He tells some hilarious stories and can carve absolutely anything."
She raised her eyebrow. "And what's wrong with him?"
"He's a soldier," Naoto admitted, shoulders hunched. "I don't know why I even keep agreeing. There's also something... off about him and his friends... I don't know." Not to mention that if the others found out, they would call him a traitor and decide to eliminate the loose end. Ohgi and his friends' paranoia was getting out of control. "They're just friendly drinks."
"You're allowed to move on. This war… We were the ones to lose it, and you and your friends paid the price. That does not mean you must bear the burden for our mistakes indefinitely."
"It wasn't your mistake; Britannia invaded without cause."
She pressed her lips together. "There were rumors at the time… Have you ever wondered why Empress Marianne descended on Japan like a vengeful spirit? Or her incredible hatred of Elevens? The other Numbers don't even rank close. Britannia always grasps on some feeble justification; this time they didn't. We'll probably never know the truth. Everyone who was in those closed door meetings is now dead."
"I treat and work with Britannians. I understand." Even in Japan everything hadn't been perfect as Brian attested to. "It's just… the military kills." He swallowed. "Do you know how many children's bones I have set because they're easy targets? Or how many we send to the morgue? The military is an instrument of terror, not defense."
Her eyes flicker to his brother, who was not so discreetly climbing over the counter again to claim his second cookie. Dropping her voice, she leaned over and asked, "Will you take him?"
Naoto flinched. "What?"
"He has no life here. He's not Japanese enough. At least by your side... Proclaim yourself as part Japanese, and claim him as your brother. We can't prove our worth if we're always hiding in the shadows, hiding our heritage."
"We shouldn't need to prove anything," Naoto growled. "And Oscar doesn't even know Japanese." Abruptly, he fell silent. The Prime Minister's son... Kururugi. He wasn't Japanese enough for the resistance, simply because he ran around as an Honorary. Nor was Naoto Japanese. They had all stopped being so when they entered Britannian society and accepted their rules. The only way left to be Japanese was to wave the flag and embrace the inevitable death. "Would he even want to?"
"No," she said tightly. "He wants to be like me. To be Japanese."
Somehow that was worse. Children like him would inevitably be prayed upon by resistance groups. Kids were so easy to lure away. All they wanted to do was help.
"I will." Naoto stopped, cursing the hasty decision. "I need a few months first. There's a thing, but after that, I promise you, I'll take him with me."
"I'm holding you to that," she said coldly. She stood up, face cracking, and pulled him into a hug. "Visit more often, Nathan. I missed you."
Worldbuilding Thoughts:
- I know there are various maps of Britannia floating around with interpretations of what each Area is. A personal pet peeve of mine is making entire continents like South America (or Africa) an entire Area (especially when a small island like Japan then gets to be an entire Area as well). South America is a little under two times the size of the US. Africa is more than three times the US. Both continents have a huge amount of climates, biodiversity, and culture. For the record, the Sahara Desert is only a little bit smaller than the US. Common world map projections tend to stretch countries near the poles so they look a lot bigger than they actually are.
- Real Person Fiction definitely exists in the Code Geass universe. It's probably not strictly legal, but it definitely exists. Lelouch is, of course, horrified.
-The World of C has basically no rules… so I'm making up my own.
Author's Note:
Yes, I'm aware that Nina is very much hated by the fandom. But a) she hasn't done anything yet, b) Euphie has veered too far from canon that a crush on her would be contrived. Romance is not my favorite genre, especially when it involves teenagers, and the few that I liked tend to have much messier romances with break-ups and crushes and a greater emphasis on emotional maturity.
See you in two weeks on the 13/14th. :)
Chat with me on the discord: discord . gg / uSBegVj
Thank you x1tears1X on FFN and Dark for your help with betaing.