Code Geass: Lazos de Sangre
Chapter Two:
Ghosts
Prosecutor Gilbert G. P. Guilford took another look at the log sheets. He was disheveled, exhausted, and without a shower. He had been working on an old case that apparently was reluctant to be close. It was a series of disappearances. The targets were homeless, drug addicts, and prostitutes, people that nobody would miss anyway, although they were citizens of Pendragon, after all. Was he dealing with a 21st century Jack the Ripper? It could be if the bodies were found, but that wasn't the case. He had indicted four possible suspects and every of them were exonerated for lack of evidence, which brought him back to the start. Prosecutor Guilford took a drink of his coffee. He wrinkled his nose as he felt it fall on his stomach. The prosecutor's job was harder and more stressful than most believed. Someone knocked on his door.
"Come in," he said as his eyes moved to page ten. Nothing jumped into view.
The door opened. Suzaku was there
" I'm sorry sir. I have to talk with you."
"Ah, prosecutor Kururugi! Go ahead," he agreed. Suzaku obeyed. "What can I do for you?"
Suzaku laid a file on the prosecutor's table.
"Give me this case, please," he asked. Despite his choice of kind words, his tone was authoritative.
Prosecutor Guilford checked the file number and pointed it out with the pen he had on hand.
"Do you know who the defendant in this case is?" He asked seriously. "He's the vice president of the Britannia Corps. The media go around sniffing everything they can to filter information. It'll be difficult…"
"In no mood to brag, sir, I've already handled two large cases. I think I can handle it," he insisted.
"I've no doubt about it, but you have too many unclosed cases: I get a lot of complaints from the administration. You're late with work because you waste your time going to the crime scene to check everything. They say that even you once followed detectives in their stakeout".
"There is nothing in the law that prohibits prosecutors from going to the crime scene."
"Prosecutor Kururugi, you know that isn't what I mean. We all have a field for which we have decided to work: it is the duty of the detectives to capture the suspects and ours is to carry out the investigation and deliver the necessary documentation to the judge," he explained, arming himself with patience. "You can't go on like this."
"With all due respect, I don't consider it a waste of time to go to crime scenes. The investigations, as you said, are carried out by prosecutors and detectives and all those involved are people, so there is a risk that a mistake will be made and those who suffer the consequences are the victims and their families." Suzaku justified himself without that hesitation lessened his tone. "As a prosecutor, I must ensure that no wrong judgments are made. So, even if you force me to, I'll keep going."
Prosecutor Guilford failed to suppress a smile, so that his expression twisted into a grimace. He didn't want his smile to be misinterpreted as a knowing gesture. Suzaku's conviction reminded of himself when he started working. The energy of young prosecutors like Suzaku renewed his spirit.
"Why do you want this case?" He asked, intrigued.
"Because I know the alleged victim of sexual assault and the Britannia Corps has been hiding its illegal activities for years. They made it to scoff at the law, but that may change just now. This is the opportunity to make them face justice. I wouldn't forgive myself if this company hurt a person I know," he added. A hint of ill-concealed pain rumbled in that last sentence. "Not knowing that I can stop them," he concluded sharply.
Prosecutor Guilford stared at Suzaku. He was desperate to get the case. He had known Suzaku since he did his university internship with him. He was aware that when Suzaku was determined to do something he could hardly just leave it. Such tenacity was admirable and an indispensable trait for a good prosecutor. Paradoxically, it was a terrible flaw that could get him in trouble. Prosecutor Guilford sighed.
"Alright, the case is yours."
"Thanks sir! I promise you that I'll do my best not to lose my integrity as a prosecutor."
Suzaku smiled, bowed politely and left. Prosecutor Guilford went back to business, feigning an indulgent smile. He has never seen someone so happy to work.
C.C. opened the door and went inside. Lelouch had sent her the address of the office he had bought. According to him, the sooner they got familiar with the place where they were going to work, better. She scanned the surroundings, finally taking a drag on her cigarette. It didn't look like a signature. She went exploring. She climbed three small steps to access the lobby and then the main room that would become the lobby. The place was spacious. Not all the furniture was there though. She liked the circular rug laid out in the center. Well, it was indisputable that Lelouch had good taste on interior decoration. C.C. took a smoke again and realized that to her left was a long, dark corridor that led elsewhere. It seemed that the property was divided in two. To the right was another room. She entered. It was a kitchen. She opened the lower cabinets out of curiosity. They were empty. She closed them again and left. Suddenly, she was struck by a chill. C.C. couldn't avoid arching her own back. She hugged herself as she was able to feel it. Then, she saw Urabe and Minami holding a beautiful black desk. Each one held it by one end. They were transporting it to the corridor.
"Good morning, C.C.! How are you?" Urabe greeted gently.
They left. The move was not complete. Maybe she had come too early.
"C.C., you came," whispered a calm voice with a tinged French accent. Lelouch emerged from the hall. His hands were behind his back. "Do you like it?"
"This "office" is a house. Is it the one you used to live in? Are you going to turn the place where your mother was murdered into your office?" She asked, smoking her cigarette.
The observation painted an enigmatic smile on Lelouch's lips.
"A man always goes back to his roots so as not to forget who he is."
"Sometimes I wonder if you're sick or just fucking crazy," C.C. teased, grinning. "I see why no one wanted to buy it and why you said the owner was happy to get rid of it. In this building, there are ghosts. I can feel their presence."
"It must be the heating. It doesn't work. I'll call the technician to fix it. It's cold these days," Lelouch said listlessly. "Will you come with me?"
It was a rhetorical question. He slid down the corridor at a winding pace. She tossed her cigarette out the window and went after him. They came to a narrower room that would be the law library of the law firm. At the back was a shelf full of books. They must be in the home library. He realized that it was the only thing left untouched. On one of the shelves was a stone statue of the Lady of Justice. At some point, he had mentioned that his mother was a lawyer. Maybe she was the one who bought it and, out of respect, ordered Tamaki's gangsters not to touch her. Or maybe because of his love for reading he made her sacred. She was wrong in her assumptions. Lelouch turned the statue around. The bookcase at the end backed away and moved slowly to the left, revealing some stairs. C.C. shot a glance at Lelouch. "Seriously?" He responded by tilting his head. They both went down.
"At the trial, seventeen years ago, I declared that I had not moved from the small study. I lied. Actually, I was here," he confessed. "This house isn't that big, but it keeps its secrets. You can easily turn it into a law firm."
"Isn't it a bunker, is it? Why would they build a secret room?"
Unlike upstairs, this room was completely furnished. It was the first in which they took care to do it, without a doubt. The red velvet armchair added an elegant touch to the shadowy room. It would be the last place in the world where C.C. would like to stay overnight. Next to the armchair there was a small table on which laid a lamp. The light bounced off the walls, giving them reddish hues. It was the warmest place in the firm. Perhaps it was due to the lack of ventilation. What attracted the most attention was the right side wall. Lelouch had built a relationship map of his targets with photos and clipped articles. He had spent so much time talking to her about them that C.C. could tell who they were even if it was the first time she saw their faces. He must have been there since dawn to get up that wall. She sensed Lelouch crossing the room. In the corner was a glass cabinet. Inside was hung a purple suit with a long black cape.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lelouch stated proudly.
From the corner of his eye, Lelouch evaluated C.C.'s expression. For once, she questioned his decision. He understood her. In her opinion, it must have seemed a masochistic act to relive that night. However, he had another point of view. Not all dusted memories were bad. Re-entering the library after seventeen years, he remembered that his mother used to dance when she was in a good mood. Usually to win a case or to celebrate when he got an excellent score or won a game of chess or when his sister made progress in her ballet lessons. She once interrupted him while he was reading.
"Lulu! Drop that book and come over here. Dance with me!"
"I don't want. I don't like dancing," he growled, digging his nose into his book.
"Oh well! Never mind. I'll dance for both of us. Nunnally, dear! Come!"
You didn't need to ask Nunnally twice if she wanted to dance, especially with his mother. She was a happy woman. How could postpartum depression be the cause of her death?
"Lelouch! Lelouch!" An exalted voice snapped Lelouch out of his trance. Tamaki ran down and joined them. "Here you are! The television is ready. Do you want to see it? Ah! Hi Catherine."
C.C. rolled her eyes. It wasn't that Lelouch really wanted to watch television at the time, but he readily agreed. It was possible that he caught something that he was interested in others seeing.
"You were busy the whole day," C.C. commented, lowering the volume of her voice so that Lelouch could only hear it.
"As you cannot imagine."
The three of them returned to the first room. They went to the television. It was on. The images were sharp and the audio sounded perfect.
"Well done, Tamaki. Thanks."
"Uh, damn, I forgot!" He exclaimed, scratching his head. He pulled out a book and handed it to Lelouch. "Here's what you asked me for."
"Excellent, but keep it. You and C.C. will be the ones to implement it. And since both of you are here, I can inform you which will be the first case that we'll attend." He announced. Lelouch picked up the remote control on the coffee table and flicked through the channels one by one until he found that he was looking for. Since it was recent news, he hoped someone would relay it. "The Vice President of the Britannia Corps is being charged by sexual assault. We will defend it".
"The vice president of the most powerful conglomerate in the country? Fuck!" Tamaki hissed. A high profile case! "You deserve no less, buddy" he celebrated, giving Lelouch a friendly smack on the arm. The young lawyer grimaced in disgust, though he quickly erased it. "When will we start the investigation and all that?"
"Right after we get the case, sure," he replied as if stating the obvious. "Now it's in the hands of Lawyer Gottwald," he added, brushing the dirt off the arm Tamaki touched.
"Oh, I understand! We'll borrow it from him, huh?" Tamaki smiled, winking at him. Lelouch looked away.
"Not quite. I'll visit the vice president in his cell and he'll give us his case. Of course, voluntarily," he said. "I think my destiny has appointed me to rescue wretches from prisons." Tamaki laughed, taking it as a joke. Only C.C. realized the malicious payload of the comment. Lelouch gave her the same terrifyingly innocent smile he just gave Kallen yesterday. "Come on. We've to go to Britannia Corps. Let Urabe take care of the rest of the furniture. I've already given him precise instructions and I trust he'll do well. Do you have the identification and the cart as I requested?"
They nodded their heads. Lelouch was pleased. He reached out and let them come forward.
The prosecutor Kururugi visited the crime scene in the company of the inspector, Cecile Croomy. As soon as he showed his prosecutor's badge and explained to the officers that he was in charge of the case, they allowed him access. He had read in the report that a Caucasian woman was sexually assaulted in the perpetrator's car the night before. The vehicle was in a parking lot belonging to the Japanese restaurant Horai.
"They said they couldn't get the CCTV footage, correct?" Suzaku asked, addressing the detective.
"That's right," confirmed the aforementioned. "The reason was because the camera was in a blind spot. We couldn't get an angle to capture the scene."
"And the black box on the crime car wasn't working," Suzaku added, sinking into his memories briefly. "It's okay. Get a record of the cars that were parked here at eight fifteen and collect all the black boxes. Someone had to have recorded something. If so, bring it to me quickly."
"Alright"
The car has been taken away. There is nothing else to investigate. Let's retreat," Suzaku ordered.
After dispatching the detective and the policemen, he turned to Cécile.
"Now will we meet with the victim?" She asked him.
"Not yet," he said. He shook his head and focused his gaze on a distant point. "She has just been attacked. She may not be comfortable. Let's wait a little. Let's go to Britannia Corps and interview the workers."
Cecile, who was in front of the prosecutor turned to his side. She wanted to see what he was looking at. The focus of his gaze was headed toward the parking lot door, through which those involved descended. It was supposed to be a company dinner. The victim wasn't supposed to be there since the diners worked at Britannia Construction, the headquarters of Britannia Corps, and she operated in the company's most important subsidiary: Britannia Chemicals. In fact, he knew that she had just started working for them. Yet he was well aware of the company motto: "At Britannia Corps, we are all one big family." According to witness statements, the vice president got drunk and she offered to drive him to his car, while they were waiting for a driver. That's when it happened.
Suzaku pursed his lips in anger as he imagined the terrible scene. The cases of abused women and abused children made him furious like no other. How could there be people so wicked that they hurt others for mere pleasure? It was something he would never understand or forgive. The good side of that tragedy was that there was also a law to protect the homeless and punish the wicked. The prosecutor Kururugi told the inspector that it was time to leave and they did.
Lawyer Gottwald was entrusted by Charles zi Britannia himself with the task of representing Vice President Kirihara. Certainly, this wasn't the first time that his boss called him to get his feet out of the mud at the company due to the carelessness of some idiotic employee who refused to recognize his place. Yet, this time it was different; because the news broke into a great scandal with dimensions horrifyingly similar to the case of seventeen years ago in which the president's bodyguard was indicted for murder and that even a few reporters had the audacity to compare, when they were two notoriously different situations. The same case that, by the way, made Jeremiah Gottwald earned his reputation as a lawyer. President Charles was smart enough to know that he didn't need all of his lawyers, but the best. So, again, it was his turn to roll up his sleeves to the elbows and put his hands in the shit, for his boss, to remove the plug that was obstructing the flow of water.
He was in his office preparing his defense when his secretary gave him an unexpected call. The interlocutor claimed that it was urgent to contact him. Who could it be? Jeremiah was not accepting calls from strangers, but curiosity kept him from rejecting her.
"Yes? I'm Lawyer Gottwald," he introduced himself.
"Are you the owner of car 89082?" Asked a male voice. He couldn't identify it.
"That's right."
"Sorry. It has a dent in the bumper," reported the mysterious interlocutor.
"Okay. I'll go there."
The lawyer advised his secretary that he would be back in ten minutes and left his office. In a few moments, a woman dressed in the uniform of maintenance workers entered, dragging a cleaning cart and carrying a black bag.
"I've come to collect the garbage," she said.
The secretary nodded and resumed her work. The woman took the trash out of the living room wastebasket and poured it into the bag she brought. Immediately, she entered the lawyer's unprotected office. The woman tapped the cart. This one was opened only from above. Tamaki stood up abruptly. He fanned himself shaking his shirt.
"Dammit! It's infernally hot there. Next time you get in, Cassandra."
"We don't have much time. Come on," C.C reminded him.
Tamaki made an approving gesture. He leaned over to where he was standing and pulled out a Civil Law Form book. The same one he wanted to give Lelouch that morning. He passed it on to C.C. On the spine it had a small lens. However, because the cover was black, it was not visible to the naked eye. C.C. took one of the books from the lawyer's shelf and made the exchange. The substitute put it in the cart. Finally, she went to take out the trash to cover up appearances.
At the same time, the lawyer Gottwald went out to the parking lot. His Volkswagen, in fact, had been hit by a brand new black Volvo trying to park in the neighboring stand. Jeremiah bent his knees to examine the damage. Fortunately, it hadn't been serious. The owner of the other vehicle was there. He was the one who called him. He was a young man dressed in an elegant suit.
"Give me your contact information. I'll see that the insurance company ..."
"Is it really you lawyer Jeremiah Gottwald?" he interrupted him. The interested party was now responsible for the crash. "I'm a lawyer too!" He exclaimed. From the inside pocket of his black jacket he produced a card and stretched out. "Lelouch Lamperouge."
He reached out his hand to shake it. Jeremiah hesitated before doing so. His alert instinct kicked in at that moment.
"What do you want? He asked dryly."
« Ah, so let's go on the offensive at once! »
"Since you ask: the case of the vice president of the Britannia Corps company, Taizo Kirihara. Could you pass it on to me?"
The courteous question turned the outrageous request into utter cynicism. Jeremiah laughed inaudibly.
"Tks! Are you kidding? Remove your car. I'll pretend this never happened and I didn't know you," he croaked, turning on his heel.
Lelouch didn't let him go, he grabbed his shoulder.
"I know this isn't the way and I have been very daring to bump into you on purpose to speak to you, but I really need it," Lelouch persisted with an apologetic smile.
"I understand that it must not be easy to get a job," Lawyer Gottwald said bored, avoiding meeting the other's gaze. "About two thousand lawyers graduate from Law School and people don't trust them as they are newbies, so lawyers fight each other like stray dogs biting their tails and ears for scraps that nobody wants or absurd cases that don't stimulate their experience. I feel bad for you that you had to go too far, but I can't do anything. It's impossible for me to transfer this case to you," he emphasized.
He took the hand that was holding him, shook it off, and walked away. But Lelouch wasn't going to give up so quickly.
"Mr. Lawyer!"
He rushed on him. Lawyer Gottwald didn't stop. He intended to get to his office and slam the door on his nose. He couldn't follow him up there. He would get tired of waiting outside for him, in the long run. Lelouch wasn't fast, on the other hand. He knew Lawyer Gottwald was ignoring him and would lose him.
The split came ahead of schedule when Lelouch recognized two men whose paths were about to meet in the Britannia Corps lobby. He hid behind a column in time. It wasn't yet time to show up. Those who appeared were the prosecutor Kururugi, followed by the investigator Croomy, and the president of Britannia Realtor, Schneizel el Britannia, accompanied by a group of bodyguards. The president was a man with vulpine features, porcelain skin, and golden hair that fell like garlands on the nape of his neck. Despite the stresses that came with being President Charles's second child, his lips always stretched a dazzling smile. He often wore unique white suits of fine Italian design. Mind you, his look was never complete without her rings. The most prominent of all was an obsidian one that was in the right index, a gift from a sorcerer on his trip to Africa. The superstitious rumored that it was endowed with magical properties since it had been seen to use it, all its negotiations were crowned with success. Royalists attributed their triumphs to a mixture of talent, skill, and luck. The heir figured as a promise in the business world just like his father in his young years.
"But if he's the White Knight of Pendragon, how is he? To what do we owe the honor of your visit?" President Schneizel greeted.
Suzaku was self-conscious upon hearing that nickname. It had been conferred on him by the media when he won the trial against the mayor. He was wearing a white suit, similar to Schneizel's suits.
"Greetings, President Schneizel." Honor? None." He cleared his throat. "I just came to do my job."
"Yes, I understand. The case of our vice president," he said with sudden concern. "Did the workers collaborate with your investigation? We ordered them to do whatever the prosecution and the police decide."
"Yes, they were quite diligent and attentive to us. We were able to finish earlier," he said, shooting a quick glance at Inspector Croomy.
"Very well. I'll not distract you from your duty. It reassures me to know that the prosecution's investigation is in your hands. I trust that in the trial the truth will be revealed," he stated, with a friendly smile. "Congratulations on your award, by the way," he added in a whisper, passing him.
Schneizel continued on. His bodyguards went with him. Lelouch reviewed in his heart what he had just heard. So Suzaku was the prosecutor assigned to the vice president's case. What a fun coincidence! Their reunion was not going to be limited to the corridors of the courts. It was going to be much earlier, at the trial. He had observed on television that his old friend received the prosecutor of the year award. Suzaku had invested his effort in productive things in recent years. Suddenly, the lawyer was curious: would he continue to be the boy he knew years ago?
He would find out what kind of man he had become when he had a chance to test his character. For now, he went to meet with C.C. and Tamaki in his truck. There were a couple of issues to discuss. C.C. had her head sticking out of the window. She was smoking and needed to release the smoke. Tamaki was proud to report that they successfully replaced the book. Lelouch didn't want to share with them what he had discovered who he would face in the trial. It wasn't any information that was relevant to them.
"Excellent. Now we need to keep an eye on our man. Charles zi Britannia will more than likely phone him or Jeremiah will get in touch with him at some point during the day. C.C., I'll assign you this task," he said with an imperative accent. "Tamaki, find out everything about our victim. Don't skimp on the details. If you find something that you think might work, please let me know. Her name is Nina Einstein"
"I won't let you down, buddy! Take it for granted!" Tamaki confirmed vigorously.
"And what will you do?" C.C. asked.
"Me?" He blurted out. His lips rose in a crafty smile. "I'm going to make an appointment with Miss Euphemia li Britannia," he replied, glancing at the time on his gold pocket watch. "I'll be on time if I leave right now."
"Will we be working while you have fun? Life isn't fair," C.C. commented throwing her cigarette out the window. "Poor Euphemia".
"Do you pity her?" Lelouch asked, mildly intrigued by the idea that C.C. may be interested in someone other than herself. She pouted.
"Of course not, I'm just considering the situation: she asks you out because she believes that her destiny puts someone trustworthy and honest in her life who doesn't care about her fortune or her family, but about her. In other words, she thinks she has made a friend. But what she's done is walk into the cave of a hungry wolf who craves the blood of her family, including herself," observed C.C. leaning her head off the seat. "Objectively speaking, isn't it cruel to make her the key to your family's destruction?"
"In Law School, I learned that debts don't go away when parents die, their children inherit them. In ancient Greece, it was like that. It was up to the children to finish what their parents started or bear the weight of their sins. For several years even murder was a strictly family affair in traditional societies. The murderer's family was obliged to compensate for the damage. If the victim's family was left unsatisfied, it led to a bloody enmity. Unfair? Perhaps, but such are the laws of men," Lelouch replied, shrugging. His smile widened. "Anyway, I'm off ..."
Lelouch opened the door and went out.
Prosecutor Kururugi and Inspector Croomy went to Miss Einstein's house. The victim. It was the last stop they had to make before organizing everything they collected. The trial would be held soon due to the magnitude of the case.
"Tell me, how do you know the victim?" The inspector asked. "An old friend from school? Your first love?"
"No. It was a classmate from the institute."
"A very close classmate, I suppose."
"No. Simply a classmate."
"And is he moving heaven and earth for a simple high school classmate?" The woman thought Prosecutor Kururugi was admirable. He was committed to each case, body and soul. No prosecutor would do what he does.
They stood on the "Welcome" mat. Suzaku was about to press the bell just as someone opened the door: a scrawny woman with black curls who had huge glasses over her eyes. Her skin was as pale as someone who has never been in the sun. "Nina." Suzaku identified her right away: he still remembered what she was like as a teenager. It hadn't changed at all. He didn't know if that was good or bad.
"Suzaku?" Nina asked, frowning. She recognized him too. "What are you doing here?"
Apparently she hadn't noticed Cecile's presence.
"I came to visit you with my colleague, Cecile Croomy," he replied, gesturing at his companion. Nina glanced at her sharply out of the corner of her eye. "Are we at the wrong time? Are you going out?"
"How? Oh yeah! I'm heading to headquarters. I have to withdraw a complaint," she clarified, without addressing either of them.
From set to set, she closed the door and began to walk. Although her steps were short, she walked in a hurry. Suzaku and Cécile were able to reach her. It was the same girl from high school. Her dress was long-sleeved (he never saw her wear low-cut clothes), always looking down like someone who was subject to her ravings, avoiding the gazes of others, muttering her to-do list or talking to herself on purpose of something that tormented her and, of course, her unmistakable quick way of speaking.
"Withdraw a complaint? Why?" Suzaku asked, confused.
"Because I was a fool. How could I think they are going to prosecute him or find him guilty?! I'm dumb! A fool!" She sputtered. She was clearly in conversation with herself, even as she walked side-by-side with the prosecutor and the investigator at her trial. "Now I'm going to lose my job… Shit!"
"Why would you be fired? What makes you think the prosecution will release the suspect?" Suzaku asked eagerly.
"Because the man I denounced is the Vice President of the Britannia Corps! The most powerful company in this country. He must be using his influence to hide the evidence or to bribe the judge," Nina gasped. Her words ran into each other, but she managed to get the point of it all. "Or maybe it's not necessary: we live in a world where prosecutors are stupid and lawyers are very clever." Nina stopped as if remembering something. She turned to Suzaku for the second time in the talk. "I didn't mention the prosecution, how did you know?"
"Because I'm the prosecutor working on your case," Suzaku revealed. The woman's eyes widened and she put two fingers to her mouth, saddened by what she had said about the prosecutors a moment ago, how would she go about retracting? Suzaku continued, "I'm sorry you think that way about the prosecution. I give you my word that most of us do our best, although I recognize that there are some who give us a bad reputation. Nina, I promise you that I will work tirelessly until I obtain the evidence that puts Taizo Kirihara in prison for what he did to you," he assured her vehemently. "I came here with Inspector Croomy because I wanted to ask you a couple of questions. I know the detective questioned you, but I wanted you to know that at the trial I'll fight for you to the end. You can be calm."
Nina stared at him. Not knowing what to answer. Possibly it was the resolution in his voice or the firmness in his gaze or that he knows who she is, yet she could feel her heart slowing down. She didn't want to be the one to break eye contact. Something inside her was prompting her to give him a vote of confidence. Was that why they referred to him as the White Knight of Pendragon?
Lelouch and Euphemia had lunch in a French cafe. For both of them, it was resuming what they had left unfinished at the Italian restaurant with the difference that there would be no bodyguards around. Euphemia explained that they had only accompanied her to the opening of the art gallery because it was a public event. She had disguised herself so that she could go out with him alone and without capturing the interest of the people around them, but it seemed that her effort hadn't paid off because of the far from no furtive glances they gave them and the no inconspicuous whispers that pierced their eardrums, as if they were whispering in their ears.
Euphemia just knew that Lelouch had learned to play the piano and ride a horse at a young age; besides painting, he appreciated music, literature and cinema (his favorite movie was The Godfather) and what he most enjoyed doing on a carefree afternoon was spending time with his sister or playing a game of chess.
Lelouch found out that she loved Mediterranean food; she had traveled to various countries in Europe, America and Asia; she liked tennis and was trilingual. Euphemia made Lelouch promise that he would sometime play for her and he agreed to compose a melody for her if she in turn promised to teach him German. The two sealed the deal. Since Euphemia paid on the previous occasion because Lelouch had just arrived, he paid today. He made it clear that he had the money in the face of Euphemia's hesitation.
"My success rate is 100%," he bragged, grinning. "My fees are high and my clients are assured that my services are worth it. Thanks to that, I have bought a penthouse in a nice urbanization. You should come by someday."
"A 100% success rate?" She repeated. "Wow! You had to have studied and worked hard to get it." Euphemia lowered her head and drummed her fingers on the table. "Sorry I left abruptly the other time. My brother came from a business trip. It was great. Well, he was born to be a businessman. I don't know of anyone who is better, except maybe my sister, but even she confirms his superiority. We had a family reunion in which dad announced that he was going to put the company in my brother's hands to indulge in a political career".
Three months ago, the news echoed that the tycoon, Charles zi Britannia, was running in the primary elections of one of the most popular parties. At first the reception was tepid. The businessman had fewer public appearances than any of his sons. He was the type of person who preferred his actions to speak for them and only then did the citizens have a vague idea of who he was. Needless to say, his presence in itself was imposing and that was worth a thousand words. But once he took the microphone and delivered his first speeches to the nation, he gradually began to gain support. Charles wasn't like other politicians. He was transparent, to the point, and spoke on issues that people were concerned about. Lelouch interpreted it as the waiting signal that he should return to the city. In the past, members of the Britannia family have been involved in politics, but nothing like this. The glory and fame of the Britannia family peaked with the impending run for president of Charles.
"I understand his decision, by one side. With his political campaign, he's going to be busy for the next few months and needs to appoint an interim president, but "resigning" in favor of your brother seems unwise to me. President Charles is either confident or tired of his duties," Lelouch reasoned objectively. Euphemia looked up at the second option. "Anyway, congratulations to President Schneizel." He smiled at her. The woman couldn't return it. "What's wrong? Is it my opinion?"
"No, no. Isn't your fault" She was quick to say. "I was just thinking… Well, it's silly. Do you know the history of my family?"
"I've heard so much that I think every new version I hear differs from the last."
"Well. In all versions, they must have told you that we are descended from an English immigrant named Richard Britannia. He was a skilled merchant and came to work for the richest man in the region. When he died, he did not leave heirs, so he made the decision to appoint his right hand as the legitimate successor, since he knew his company. Nobody had the qualities that he had," Euphemia said, looking at the window with the desire to remember how the story was going. He turned to his interlocutor. "So more or less they told you?"
"Yes, except for one detail: Richard Britannia stayed with the presidency because he altered the will with the help of his boss's wife, Elizabeth, his lover, and that his death wasn't due to a fatal disease, but a plot between the two. In other words, he was deceived and betrayed by the people he trusted the most," Lelouch replied curtly.
Euphemia sighed. She didn't seem upset or surprised. She also didn't scoff at the rumor. Anxiety gleamed in her lilac eyes.
"That is the version that gives credence to the words of the deceased's mother. The second part of the story tells of her intervention: one day, she appeared at the house and accused Richard of having killed her son. Nobody believed her: everyone took her for a decrepit old woman who spoke pure inconsistencies and she had no evidence to support her accusation. Richard ordered that they removed her for having interrupted the peace of their home. She left, not before putting a curse on him and all his descendants, because, although he planned it, his widow was in the plot. His children would pay for his sins and, in this way; he would know the pain that she suffered. She said that a blood crime could only be cleaned with the blood of the person who committed it, but his were so dirty that it would be insufficient; consequently, until our family compensated with their blood for what they shed, they would not stop having died. The pride and violence on which Richard founded his house would gradually ruin his lineage." Euphemia's languid voice broke. A chill ran down her spine and she shuddered. Lelouch watched as their long, delicate fingers intertwined. She had done a manicure: her nails were painted pink. "She left him an hourglass. She said it would be broken the day this curse ended the Britannia family. "He didn't believe her, of course ..."
"And he got rid of the watch."
"No, he kept it," she corrected. Lelouch raised his eyebrows. Euphemia shrugged. "He considered that if he threw it away, people would say that he took his words seriously and was afraid. It's still in our house. It's like our family joke. Neither Richard nor great-grandfather nor grandfather nor father was scared by the curses."
"And you?" Asked Lelouch, tilting his head.
The hairs on her arms stood on end. Covertly, she hugged herself and inhaled slowly in an attempt to regain her composure.
"These months, I was researching our genealogical tree: not all of Richard's children survived and it is true that, since then, there has been a chain of premature deaths: by accident, illness, miscarriages, some suicides and two murders," Euphemia mused. . "Grandpa's generation was serene. They even said that our "bad luck" ended with him; but now that dad has run for president, I'm afraid he will make enemies. You know how politics works. And I love my family. I don't want anything to happen." Euphemia stifled a groan. "Don't you believe in these things?" She inquired cautiously.
"I've heard about paranormal experiences that have happened to people through others, but I don't believe in anything that my senses don't perceive, how can curses be verified?" Lelouch clicked his tongue thoughtfully. "My sister does. She is a devout Catholic. I don't think it's bad. We are all superstitious to some extent. The ancients attributed the reason for their misfortunes to the wrongdoings of their ancestors and argued that the faults were hereditary. A primitive thought. The mother of that man was: when crying out for the blood of Richard and his family it is clear that she wanted revenge, not justice"
"And are you?"
"Catholic? No. My sister knows and respects it, just like I do it for her beliefs. In her early years, adjusting to paralysis and blindness was tough. In her religion she found a comfort that I couldn't give her."
"I guess it's more than obvious that it wasn't what you found."
"What I found was an abyss of false promises, greed, depravity, and lies," he said. She fixed her purple eyes on Lelouch. Wouldn't his eloquence and way of thinking someday amaze her? On the other hand, he felt his breath catch. When she stayed like this, it was painfully difficult to meet his gaze. Her innocence and kindness reminded him of Nunnally at times. Disturbed, he added, "Are you a believer?"
"My family has a church, which my father inherited from my maternal grandfather. Although I have never felt linked to religion, I don't deny it either. I would like to believe that there is a force that exceeds us. Only that it can't be proven"
"I see. I was afraid I had offended you."
"Don't worry. I like that you are honest." She nodded.
"I'm glad to hear it. I wouldn't feel good about myself lying to you," Lelouch said. Smiling at her, he leaned down, reached out and put his hand on her wrist. "I would recommend that you ignore those detracting comments against your family and focus only on the things that your senses can perceive. You can't face what does not exist."
The two of them being very close, they looked at each other. Euphemia noticed the fineness of his complexion, his dark hair cutting out the diamond shape of his face and his almond-shaped eyes. Lelouch felt a tingling in the palm with which he had grasped his wrist. He was ashamed of his fearful attitude. He couldn't be behaving like a teenager with this kind of thing. He had passed that stage. Then her exquisite floral perfume reached him. Instantly he blushed. Coming to himself, the young lawyer withdrew his hand.
"You're right," Euphemia laughed, catching her breath. "Because of that stupid curse, people believe that we aren't united. That there are conspiracies between us like the one Richard supposedly conceived. In response to that, we have a motto. Grandpa recited it all the time. Do you know it?"
"Blood of my blood, right?" Lelouch declared. Euphemia nodded.
"Yes. First, the blood of my blood and then nothingness. It's nice. I agreed with him: family is the most important thing," she said. "Hey! There will be a party to celebrate my brother's appointment." She changed the subject.
"Ah! Formidable! You'll have fun," Lelouch said enthusiastically.
"Yes. Every time we organize big parties. It is exhausting. Since we're the hosts, we must receive and greet the guests ..."
"But they are old acquaintances. You should feel comfortable with them."
"Not really. Several are dad's associates and I assume that due to his campaign, many influential political figures will be in attendance."
"I understand. It's a shame you can't enjoy your own party," Lelouch commented with compelling frankness. "If only your brothers were with you ... well, no, it's not necessary. With a fiancé or a friend, your evening would be enjoyable since you would have someone to talk to and a dance partner, don't you know anyone like that to invite?"
Euphemia was about to emphasize that it wouldn't be as boring as it seemed, but upon hearing Lelouch's reasons: she couldn't refute him. She wouldn't have as much fun at a party alone than with a partner.
Lelouch took another sip of his coffee while spying on Euphemia. In the sunlight, her beauty was best admired. She was as charming and pretty as everyone expressed. He had verified it. C.C., incidentally, was right: her desire to befriend someone was clearing the way for him. Targeting her was a brilliant idea.
"Lelouch!"
"Uhm?..."
It was just another day at work for Kallen at the pizzeria. Even though Ohgi had hired her as a cashier, she learned how to make pizzas. Sometimes it was so exhausting to be standing the whole holy afternoon behind the counter overflowing with a Miss Universe smile that Kallen found herself in the need to disconnect from her surroundings and migrate to her inner world doing individual activities. She wasn't an expert in the kitchen, but she had known the basics since she was little. From time to time she improvised. Twice she tried to create a new pizza. The results hadn't been very good, but she kept trying. It was a phrase that synthesized her life very well today.
That afternoon, Ohgi had relieved her and went to the back room to cook. Kallen was expecting a special call. When she returned from Lelouch's apartment, she didn't tell Ohgi that there were problems and lied about the reason for her delay. Since they had decided that everything would stay between them, why alarm him? Around four o'clock, she received a message to meet in front of the Otomensando Shopping Center. She confirmed by a message and told Ohgi that she would be leaving early. She changed her clothes (Ohgi lived upstairs at the pizzeria and Kallen had moved there since he was eighteen - it was her own birthday present), grabbed the motorcycle keys and left before Ohgi could ask her where she was going.
She reached the assembly point and saw no sign of Lelouch. Kallen snorted. Deep down, she prayed he wouldn't make her hold out too long. She was dying for it to be over. She stood under the shade of a tree and entertained herself by looking at social networks on her cell phone. When she was fed up, she focused her expectant gaze on the stairs. Individuals, couples, families came and went. Kallen looked away as she noticed a girl coming hand in hand with a boy, her brother perhaps. It was then that she noticed an irregular situation that was happening across the street. It was a hot dog stand. Some men were bothering the seller.
"If it weren't for us, you wouldn't have anywhere to sell your damn food, you know?" One of them barked. "Ungrateful! This is how customers are not treated well!"
"You don't have to use that language with me. I also deserve respect!" Even when he had chosen the right words, the salesman's demand came out as a squeak.
"What respect or anything! Don't be abusive! Where do you think you are to demand anything! This is our home and if you don't learn to treat your customers' better, head back to Japan!"
Preceded by his threat, one of the men smashed the hot dog he was carrying on the salesman's face, messing it up with sauce and mustard. At this, they heard a camera flash. As they turned, they noticed Kallen standing behind them taking photos of them.
"That's it! Keep in that way! I'm just filming you guys," Kallen snapped. "Better tell me where you think you are: this is public violence, regulation 2.2.! When I present the photos and video I have to the police, I'll sue you all and, at least, you'll spend two months in jail. Do you think that because you all are not immigrants, this country will protect you? YOU'RE WRONG! There are laws here and they apply to everyone, whether they were born on this soil or not!"
She was shaking with anger, but her voice was poised. Xenophobic attacks on the Japanese were a common problem that drove her out of her mind. Kallen stopped the recording and put the cell phone in her jacket pocket.
"Pfff! What is this crazy bitch saying? Don't meddle in what doesn't concern you!"
The man approached Kallen while waving his finger in her direction. With lightning speed, she caught his wrist and twisted it. The man screamed. Kallen had no mercy: she pulled him up to her suddenly and kicked him in the groin. The assailant fell to his knees with no strength left.
"I'm not a bitch; I'm a fucking woman or crazy. Whatever you like," She growled at him. Kallen addressed the others. They instinctively backed away. "Who wants to end up like him and with an additional lawsuit?"
She didn't have to repeat it. The bullies took to flight, abandoning their colleague to fate. At a safe distance, Lelouch witnessed the scene. He was tempted to interfere, and he resisted for one reason: he wanted to know how Kallen handled herself. Everything was under control. He didn't have to scare them with the Volvo. There was no doubt that she knew how to take care of herself. The brawler crawled away with great difficulty: it was silly to face the redhead again. Lelouch watched as she provided her contact information to the seller in order to send him the photos and video. It would guide him through the claim process for sure. He waited for her to say goodbye and cross the sidewalk to get her attention with the horn. Kallen winced. Lelouch gestured at her and lowered the glass.
"You're late, charlatan," Lelouch reproached her with a mocking smile.
"Late?! If you… " Kallen began to protest.
"Come. Let's talk in my car," Lelouch cut her off.
"In your car? Why?! No! Let's talk outside," Kallen stammered.
"We'll be more comfortable here," he insisted softly. "I'm not going to kidnap you and if I get to exceed myself, you can punch me in the nose" he added wanting to make a joke. He regretted it immediately. After seeing how that man charged, she was able to take him at his word. But he could no longer retract.
"Fine." Kallen snapped.
Either way, he had said what was necessary to convince her. His appearance wasn't intimidating. She thought she could beat him in a fight. It was in his eyes that danger loomed. Kallen climbed into the passenger seat. She brushed her thighs and tucked a strand, which had stuck to her lips during the fight, behind her ear to control her nerves. Lelouch noticed that her right ear had an industrial piercing and another in the cartilage. Kallen found it comfortable there. The seats were soft and hard at the same time. The air conditioning was on. And the blue light dimmed the darkness inside. She shook her head. She was getting distracted. She took out the money and put it on the board.
"Here it is. Check it if you want, but nothing is missing," She croaked. Lelouch counted the cash. "Can you promise me you won't sue the pizza shop?"
"I'm a man of my word. That incident will be buried," he announced.
"You better be, because if I find out that you broke your promise: I've your number registered on my cell phone, I know where you live and I remember your face."
The redhead emphasized pointing at his face with her finger. Lelouch smiled, grabbed her hand and gently pushed it away.
"I don't think it's difficult for you to forget it."
"Don't joke!" She grumbled, recovering her hand roughly. "After this, let's not meet…"A ringtone interrupted them. It wasn't Lelouch's cell phone, but hers. "Excuse me," she whispered. In one motion, she pulled out his phone. The number was identified as "Hospital." Kallen felt her heartbeat speed up. "I'm sorry… I must…". She didn't even finish the sentence. She took the call. "Yes? I'm Kallen Stadtfeld."
Lelouch couldn't hear who she was exchanging words with. However, judging by the progressive change in her expression, from serious to gloomy; the almost inaudible tone of her voice; the game that was brought with the nails unconsciously, sensed that something was very wrong. Only at the end did she beg her interlocutor to wait for her. Then she hung up and put the phone away. Even if she was holding back, her dismay was tangible.
"I've to go. Well, Lelouch, I hope we never see each other after this," Kallen finished in a terribly high voice, oblivious to her.
Lelouch was curious to find out what could have happened to dislodge her. He could ask C.C. investigate it or he could do it himself, but the quickest way to find out was to follow her. Just as she was closing the bag she had taken the money in, he slipped his hand into the pocket where she put the phone (fortunately, the one on his side) and hid it. Kallen was so absorbed that she didn't notice. She got off awkwardly and jumped on her motorcycle. Lelouch waited for her to take the lead and continually stepped on the accelerator. On the streets, Kallen was slippery and light. It seemed that the motorcycle was flying on the asphalt. But the speed of the Volvo was not to be underestimated and, at the wheel, Lelouch was right-handed. Her trail led him to a public hospital. Kallen knew exactly where to go because she didn't ask at the front desk. She went right through it. In other words, she has been here before. Lelouch feared that this time he would lose her. People were constantly swaying and the woman dodging people with masterful precision and speed. He had to stop one of the nurses to ask which rooms the hallway Kallen entered into led him to. There was only one answer to his question.
Kallen was talking to a doctor in front of a door whose description read: "Intensive Care Unit." Lelouch kept a few feet away.
"Do the operation, doctor! I beg of you," Kallen groaned. "I already deposited all the money I made in the fortnight."
"Please understand our position, miss. We have to insert a stent, how are we going to perform such an expensive intervention on a patient in a coma? It isn't worth it. Everything has a limit. Give up," the pained doctor tried to dissuade her. It wasn't easy for him either.
The redhead received the man's words like a cold scourge hitting her face. That she needs to give up?
"N-no, you can't mean it from the heart," she stammered. Now, she was feeling an itch in his eyes. "Do you know how many cases there have been of comatose patients who woke up after seventeen years? What if my mother should expect the same? If I disconnect her, I'll never know or forgive myself. Her heart beats even after eleven years have passed, why should we be the ones to give up if she hasn't? Isn't that a sign that she's struggling to live? I do!" She declared, slapping her chest. The doctor squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head. Kallen took him by the robe. "How could it be that you care more about the fact I've no money than your patient's life?!" The doctor grabbed her hands, slowing her shaking. Her eyes were filled with tears. "I told you I would pay for it, I plan to comply, but please put the stent on her!"
"Operate her," said a deep, calm voice. Kallen was only familiar with one person who articulated words very slowly, as if stroking syllables. She wiped away a furtive tear and turned her head so violently she felt dizzy. Lelouch was in the middle of the hall. He had listened to them. "I'll cover the expenses, so do it to her."
"Sorry, who are you?" Asked the stunned doctor.
"I'm her boss," he answered instantly. "Don't prolong the suffering of my employee and carry out the operation as soon as possible."
But what was he saying?! Why did he lie?! She looked from the doctor to Lelouch and vice versa without really understanding what happened. The lawyer turned and started to walk away. Kallen came to and chased after him. In a matter of seconds, she stopped him.
"Hey! I told you not to meet again! You followed me! Weren't you a man who keeps his promises? And why did you do that?!"
"As far as I know, I never promised to stop talking to you. That was you. I followed you to give you this back: you forgot it in my car." Lelouch took her cell phone out of his inside jacket pocket. He handed it over to her. Kallen's eyes widened: she was absolutely sure she had put the phone in her pocket, how did it get out? She looked back at Lelouch. "I did it because I wanted to and because I have money."
"Oh yeah? Is it that you go from hospital to hospital lying and paying for the surgeries of those who can't because you have shitload of money? Tsk!" Kallen scoffed. That she had regained her defiant tone was reassuring. He had to admit that seeing her so vulnerable had baffled him, beyond measure. So he decided to ignore the taunt. "I'm serious! Why did you help me?"
"I wasn't lying or let's say I wanted to turn that lie into reality. I want you to work for me," Lelouch said, skipping to the heart of the matter. "You see, I came back to town after a long absence and opened a law firm. I would like to have other lawyers in my office and I want you to be the first."
"What?! Did you go crazy?" Kallen bellowed. "I don't want you to give me a job, the only thing I want from you is your account number to return the money."
"You can work for me and pretend you're paying off your debt."
"No!" She disagreed. "Ah! Shit! I said I didn't want to see you again. If I work for you until I pay my debt, I won't be able to!" She whimpered in frustration.
"Tell me, charlatan, what annoys you the most? Be in my debt? Work for me? See my face? Maybe I'm the only person who is willing to hire you? Or that I was the one who paid for your mother's operation in your place? Or all of the above? Because I didn't do this as a favor. It was done out of disinterest. And I haven't heard any "thank you" so far."
Shit. Kallen felt embarrassed on a level she didn't imagine existed. Her cheeks were painted a red as intense as her hair. How could he avoid judging her by just asking? Double shit! She hated to admit it, but he was right, on everything absolutely. She didn't want to have to answer that question. Lelouch was silent, waiting for her reaction.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She had let her guard down. "Thank you, really." She thought words would take longer to drop out her dislike for the lawyer, but that wasn't the case. "Infinite thanks."
She inhaled when she felt that her eyes were going to fill with tears again just remembering the scene back. She lowered her head, making sure he couldn't read her expression. He nodded.
"That's better. Listen, I guess you're not exercising, since you're a delivery person. And if you studied law it was because you intended to practice. You don't have to tell me why you're not working if you don't want to. It is not important. Focus on what you want. You want to work, right?"
"What question is that? Of course I want to work!" She exclaimed, looking up.
"Well. I offer you a proposal that may satisfy your desire. It would pay you as much or even more than what you earned in your old job. That we would see. For now, go to your mom," Lelouch felt strange saying that word "that you were about to lose her, so you'll want to be by her side. And think about what I told you. You have my number, right? Call me when you have decided."
"Please!" Kallen snapped when Lelouch had turned away. "Don't tell anyone what you saw."
Lelouch nodded imperceptibly and continued on his way. Kallen took a deep breath. She felt her shoulders release an enormous weight. Defeated, she ran her hand over her face, hair, and the back of her neck. She returned to her mother, who lay in her hospital bed with her eyelids closed. It had been like this for years. Her countenance was calm, peacefully. "What was she dreaming about?" Not in Kallen. Her memories of Kallen must have caused her pain. As if slapped, she violently cocked her head. The word stirred her insides, reaching for something that began to work its way into her mind.
From time to time, the redhead remembered the day her mother sent her to live with her father. She was ten years old with scrapes on her knees. Her hair was a wild red bush and she was shedding baby teeth. She had taken her by the hand and told her that they were going out. Little Kallen wasn't sure how to react, but she didn't say anything. They were walking for a long period. She already thought they were spinning nonsense until she saw him standing next to her car. The girl looked first at her mother, then at that man, and gradually tied up the dots.
"As of this moment, I'm no longer your mother," Mrs. Kōzuki had told her coldly. "That gentleman over there is your dad. Be smart and do whatever it takes to earn their recognition"
"Mommy ..." Young Kallen was crying.
She had reached out her hand to cling to her, but her mother slapped it away.
"Don't cry!" She chided severely. "Go away!" She had ordered. Immediately, Mrs. Kōzuki turned her back on Kallen and added, "Don't come looking for me and if you happen to see me, pretend you don't know me."
And so she left without looking back at the heartbroken girl who was crying. Kallen had tried to banish that image forever. But those ghosts from the past insisted on returning. It was a lie that anyone didn't get rid of from the most tempestuous memories. Oh well, they do. Just that these came back in more detail. Kallen recently remembered that this time her mother was clenching her fists when she told her not to look for her and to completely ignore her. She had believed she was doing it because she did not love her. What if it was to hide her feelings? Did she cry as much as Kallen did that night? She had to know. Her mother couldn't die without revealing it to her, without giving her a chance to apologize.
After his unexpected stop at the hospital, Lelouch returned to his apartment. The day had been exhausting. Not for the reasons he thought. And it didn't end. He had one more place to go and he couldn't put it off. Only first he had to talk to C.C. She wasn't at the firm, so she must be at home. Someone was there indeed. How did he know it? By Wagner. His operatic melodies filled the corners of the home. It meant that Nunnally was present as she almost always played classical music out of nostalgia. He advanced into the living room. She was at the dining room table making woven macramé bracelets with Sayoko. C.C. was sitting on the opposite side of the table, idly as usual, watching her sister do crafts with the maid, while smoking absently.
"Are you home, dear brother?" Nunnally asked. "I heard the door close. Pass! I have one thing for you," she encouraged him. Lelouch sat in the chair to her right. She felt the surface until her hand found a black bracelet, took it and showed it to him. "I made this bracelet with Sayoko in the morning. We use a black macramé since it's your favorite color," she clarified. Lelouch shot Sayoko a look. She shook her head. "Try it on! Tell me how it looks and if you like it."
Lelouch slipped the bracelet onto his left wrist.
"It's very pretty, Nunnally. It fits me perfect. Thank you." He smiled at her.
"Great, although without Sayoko's help it wouldn't have looked so great! I also made one for myself. It's purple, my favorite color. So we'll be combined!" She raised her right wrist showing him her bracelet. Then she closed her hand and raised her little finger. Lelouch embraced it with his own. "Now that everyone has their bracelet: we'll be united forever, no matter where we are. It's a promise, is it, brother?"
"It is," Lelouch muttered without a voice.
Nunnally grinned at him from ear to ear. She held out her free hand. Lelouch understood what she was trying to do and bowed his head. She stroked his cheek. He returned the gesture by taking the back of her hand. Even if she could no longer open his eyelids, he remembered what her large and innocent purplish eyes looked like before she lost them and could imagine how they would look at him tenderly.
The Lamperouge siblings were so different that everything seemed to indicate that the only thing they had in common was the blood that ran through their veins. C.C. loved to compare them to sugar and salt. However, they were so fond of each other that no one could doubt their bond. Considering the misadventures they had to go through together, it was no wonder that this brought them closer together. Perhaps their contrast was what embellished the family picture.
"And you're going to let me out more often. Is it a promise?"
"Well…" Lelouch hesitated.
"I like being at home! But from time to time it is very suffocating to live shut up. I told you before we moved that it would be different here, that I would rebel against you if I had to! Do you remember?" She asked, softening the energetic tone of her voice with the question. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere without Sayoko. I can't go very far without her, anyway." She sighed sadly. "Are you coming from touring the city?"
"Yes."
"These days I was visiting places and public establishments to write about them on the blog and recommend the best ones. Also, my followers were aware of my move. The city is much louder than where we were, but I like it: it is alive. There are many trees and flowers that give off a delicious aroma; the people are very friendly and the warmth of the sun is nice."
"Delicious aroma? Wherever I went, I was amazed to find the streets so dirty, stinky and infested with huge garbage bags. Speculation in establishments is the height of barbarism, xenophobic attacks are the daily bread and crime is an unstoppable force. I see why Pendragon is a lawyer's paradise: there is no shortage of cases. Not to mention that the lighting works intermittently in some places and not in others. I thought I wouldn't find my way home until tomorrow," Lelouch complained.
"I don't know what part of the city you've been to, dear brother, but it seems we went to two totally opposite places!" Nunnally exclaimed, dumbfounded. "By the way, you won't believe it! I heard that Suzaku was awarded Prosecutor of the Year. Do you remember him, right? I really liked him. We share so many funny moments, do you remember when we used to play superheroes? It was our favorite game. Suzaku came to my rescue as I tried to stop your evil plans. I don't know why you never played as a hero, I bet you would have made it wonderful ..."
"Do you remember that?" Lelouch moaned, noticing how his memory captured C.C.'s interest.
"Yes, of course! They are memories that I'll always treasure. In a way that you and Suzaku have become a prosecutor and a lawyer is a throwback to the past, it has to be a thing of fate! Don't you think? You both could face a trial, but don't worry, I'll always support my brother ..."
"Miss, it's six o'clock…" Sayoko whispered.
"Eh? Oh yeah! Brother, let's continue this talk after my bath, okay? I would like you to describe to me in detail everything that your eyes perceived. Even if it wasn't pleasant, I'd like to imagine it," She asked. "Let's go, Sayoko."
The maid nodded. She took the young woman's wheelchair and carried it away. They were left alone C.C. and Lelouch. The woman stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. Immediately, she lit another.
"You and your sister are two drops of water. I wouldn't know how to tell them apart if you both were the same sex," C.C. commented sarcastically.
"I'm tired of having to tell you not to smoke in the presence of my sister. Do it in your room behind closed doors," Lelouch growled. "Any news from Jeremiah?"
C.C. placed a USB stick on the table and tapped it with her finger and sent it to Lelouch. It slid across the entire table until it collided with his hand. He grabbed it and stood up.
"I'm going out."
"Okay. If your sister comes out and you have not returned, I'll tell her that you went to mass to pray for our souls, as a good Catholic. Count on me," C.C. said, winking at him mischievously.
C.C. took the cigarette out from her lips to expel the smoke and gave him a mocking smile. Lelouch wheezed. If he refuted her, he would be yielding to her provocation. He chose not to take it into account.
He set off for the prison where Taizo Kirihara was being held. He asked to see him and permission was granted. The vice president had met not long ago with lawyer Gottwald, so he was surprised at a new visit. Could it be a member of his family? An unfortunate incident at the wrong time? Before even considering the possibility, he met the mysterious visitor. Already seated on the other side of the glass, Lelouch greeted him with a smile. The vice president stretched out in his chair and studied him closely. His face was sharp, reminding him of a feline, an animal associated with alert intelligence and arrogance. The best thing was because it evoked those sensations in him. For business, he discovered how useful it was to learn to know people through their faces and to compare them to animals helped him in his mission of visual recognition.
"Who is it…?" Mr. Taizo began to ask.
"We haven't introduced ourselves. This is the first time we've met," he introduced himself. "I'm Lelouch Lamperouge, a lawyer. I'm here because I would like to work on your case."
"Are you saying you want my case? Sorry, I already have a lawyer ..."
"Lawyer Gottwald, I know," Lelouch snapped at him. "We only have fifteen minutes, so give me ten minutes to explain why you should hire me. It is all I need. I will break it down for you into three reasons: One, Lawyer Gottwald has no intention of winning as you were dumped by President Charles and here is the proof that confirms it.
Lelouch glanced over his shoulder at the policeman guarding them. He nodded once. They would be calm. Lelouch took out his cell phone and played the video that C.C. had downloaded onto the USB stick. Kirihara bowed. The moving images depicted lawyer Gottwald speaking on the phone in his office.
"Yes, I'll follow the plan. This isn't the first time that I have lost a lawsuit for you. He'll never find it out. When we get a guilty verdict, I'll tell him that I'll file an appeal. He'll be calm with that and won't be bothering you anymore."
Lelouch paused the video. The vice president was stunned.
"Ask yourself how many visits President Charles has paid you since you were arrested, Mr. Taizo. Don't you think that if he was worried about you, he would have met with him or at least left a message with your lawyer?" He inquired maliciously. "It is simple curiosity."
"And how did you get this? If you paid someone for the video, it must have been worth a fortune."
"If I wanted money and information, I'd start a brothel," Lelouch laughed at the suggestion. "There is no better spy network when it comes from the hand of pleasure." He kept the cell phone inside his jacket. "Let's do this: I don't tell you how to run a business and you don't ask me how I do my job. Item number two is about prosecutor Kururugi. I know him quite well and I can foresee the strategy he will use against you at trial. If you are a man and she is a woman and they accuse you of sexual assault is already bad; the fact you're superior and she is your subordinate it's even worse. You'll be charged for abuse of power. And third point: my success rate is 100%. Every case I choose to defend, I win," Lelouch said, pulling an identification card out of his pocket and stamping it on the glass. "Listen Mr. Kirihara, if you lose your case, the only one who is defeated is you: if you are guilty, Britannia Corps will have gracefully disposed of someone who dishonored their reputation, don't forget that the election campaign of President Charles is going from strength to strength. And if you're innocent, ask yourself why President Charles ordered your lawyer to lose on purpose. No, even better, ask yourselves about what you know to make Britannia want you in prison. As for me, if you abused her: I don't care. The job of a lawyer isn't to judge his client. You can tell the prosecutor Kururugi whatever you want, you just have to tell me the truth and I'll lie for you; but first you have to make a decision. You want to hug your family again, right?" Lelouch paused to loosen his tie, which was a little too tight. He fixed the vice president with a penetrating gaze; it was like being swallowed by a black hole. "My ten minutes are up. What are you going to do, Mr. Kirihara? You have five left ..."
A / N: honestly, the end of this chapter always makes my hair stand on end. It's a short scene worth putting in a teaser to convince you to watch the story. In a dialogue, Lelouch gives us a lecture on rhetoric. If there is something that I would like to rescue from this chapter, it is the investigations that Suzaku and Lelouch undertake each on their own. The way they do it is a reaffirmation of their beliefs. At this point, we've heard from familiar faces again and the differences between my story and the canon are more evident. Of course, I would love to talk about them. But I prefer to do it by responding to comments as this way I'll know that there's an interested audience in the creative process behind my novel. Sometimes I feel like nobody reads the author's notes.
Before sending the chapters for translation to Mr. Translator, I'm taking a little time to read and edit certain things. Nothing essential that concerns the plot (because these chapters are published and if I decided to make major modifications, I would erase everything I've and later I would re-upload it and if I've not done it yet it's because I'm sure of the course that the story is taking). The changes that I have applied have been in terms of form. In this 2021, the novel celebrated a year since its publication and I feel that I have grown a bit as a writer. Still, my Achilles heel is descriptions. I don't know if there is an English-speaking reader around here who has followed me and I don't know how good his memory would be, but I wanted to be honest. Take in mind that it is a symptom of the good writer (and the artist, by extension) to be a perfectionist and that I not only want to present a good story to you, I also want to tell it right. And of course I want to do something special here.
Tell me, what did you think of our second chapter? What was your favorite scene? What do you think of Lelouch and Suzaku's way of doing things? (Without bragging, it seems to me that I have transferred that counterpoint to this new context quite well). Are you excited to read a showdown in the trial between them? (Unlike the anime, the confrontations will be much more even since it isn't an encounter between the strategist commanders against the greatest soldier). And finally, what expectations do you have for the next episode?
Your comments, favorites and follows encourage me and Mr. Translator to continue with this project and we look forward to seeing it through to the end. If, by chance, the updates stop, it's because Mr. Translator and I got on a raft trying to escape from Latin America and we sank or we didn't have electricity or we didn't have support and we died. I'm realizing that all the possible reasons for our absence are the same.
Anyway, we'll be reading each other in the third chapter: "Memories."
Take care around, roasted marshmallows! Kisses on the tail!
P.S: Hello guys, it's "Mr. Translator" or just call me the Cookie Monster. Why? 'Cuz I love cookies and we'll be slapping the fack out of anyone just to steal theirs. Ok, no. I'm leaving this note just to let you guys know that we do really appreciate the fact you're giving this novel a chance. May you be a follower, set us as your favorite, leaving a comment or being a casual reader; everything counts for us to keep this project up. That's the only way we get to know our efforts are well received and that there's people interested in this fanfic. Soon Alice will be posting twice the updates per month, as long I don't get sick again… Anyway, please let us know what you think and if you actually want us to continue to the end of the story. Best regards and cookies for you all. C ya later.