I do not own Code Geass.
…..
Adachi, Tokyo Metropolitan Area, United States of Japan, December 2017
Kousetsu Urabe glanced back and forth between the rows of men. They were ragged men, their uniforms torn and filthy, covered in bandages, the wounded leaning on their friends to help them walk. Each man had been stripped of his arms and supplies, not even allowed to carry their canteens or the sparse food ration they'd had with them. Urabe had strenuously protested this treatment, only to be told that they were lucky they weren't being shot on sight.
The further they were marched towards the downtown area, the more he realized the man may be right.
The streets were lined with people, soldier and civilian alike, laying corpses in long rows on the sidewalks. Bed sheets or tarps must have been a limited commodity because none of the bodies were covered, allowing a full view of the carnage wrought by the disastrous assault.
Men. Women. Children. All lay together, some peaceful in their eternal rest, others still frozen in pain and terror as they were dragged kicking and screaming into the unknown.
They look so small, Urabe thought as his eyes roamed over the bodies.
The children in particular looked tiny. After a moment's study, it became clear why: they were emaciated, their bellies swollen from hunger, their arms and legs thin.
How many people had been starving when the war came to their homes?
The corpses were being stripped bare, their clothes thrown in shopping carts, in wheelbarrows, in the backs of trucks switched off to conserve fuel. Valuables such as watches, necklaces, rings, and bracelets were dropped into sacks that were then distributed to, what Urabe assumed, waiting family or friends.
What surprised him was the silence. In the aftermath of any battle, there was weeping, wailing, screaming. Bereavement has its own peculiar sound, but he couldn't hear so much as a sniffle.
He said as much to one of the Black Knights escorting them. The young man, a corporal with a shaved head and brown eyes, glared at him, the hate pouring off of him in cold waves that chilled Urabe more than the freezing wind that blew through the air.
"They have no tears left to weep," the corporal told him.
Urabe said nothing else to him.
As they continued to march, and it became clear to the civilians who they were, he could begin to feel it. Every look, every stare, every momentary gaze was filled with enough hate to freeze a volcano. The men around Urabe could feel it, too. They huddled closer together, glancing nervously at the surrounding crowds.
For three hours they marched this way, joining up at intersections with larger and larger columns of prisoners just as bedraggled and exhausted as they. The officers were separated into their own sections, one which Urabe was obliged to join, probably to ensure they couldn't rally their men and enact a breakout.
Such a thing seemed impossible to him. These were broken men, tired and defeated, who would likely never carry a rifle again if they didn't have to.
Of course, the prospect of a bloody civil war had seemed impossible as well.
As they entered the downtown area, near the bridges over the Arakawa, his jaw dropped.
Entire sections of the city were just gone, disappeared into empty space, no sign or trace of them to be seen.
"What happened?" Urabe blurted.
The guard next to him, a sergeant this time with a face covered in scars and a bloody bandage over his right eye, grunted. "Someone back in the palace triggered the emergency earthquake platforms all at once," he explained. "Took out that entire section of the city, and sent everyone in it crashing to the ground.
Urabe gaped at him. "They just dropped it all at once?" he asked, his disbelief evident. When the sergeant just gave a nod, he asked, "How many civilians did they kill with that stunt?"
The sergeant glared at him with his one good eye. "Like you care," he retorted gruffly.
Urabe ground his teeth. "Of course I care!" he protested. "We never targeted civilians!"
The sergeant snorted. "Tell that to Ashford," he said.
"We didn't bomb-"
The sergeant struck him in the belly with the butt of his rifle. Urabe stopped, hunching over to cough. "Shut up," the man demanded. "No one cares what you have to say. Just keep walking."
Urabe went to say something else, but the sergeant snatched him by the front of his flight suit and jerked him forward.
As they began to reach the Palace, Urabe noticed a group of soldiers holding what looked like photos checking up and down the line.
No, not everyone, Urabe realized. Just the officers.
When they came to his group, a note of recognition crossed the examiners' expression.
"Step out of the column," one of them, Urabe guessed their leader, ordered him. Urabe could see nothing more than a pair of hard black eyes, the rest of his face having been covered with a black bandanna and his black kepi hat. He glanced between Urabe's face and the photo he held. "Colonel Urabe, I presume?"
Urabe, his mouth suddenly dry, nodded. "Yes," he confirmed.
The examiner tucked the photo away. "Come with us," he ordered him.
Urabe considered, briefly, resisting. The thought went out of his head the moment he spied one of the other examiners draw a revolver.
He gave them a genial smile. "Lead the way," he said with a gesture.
…
Presidential Palace Confinement Zone, Presidential Palace, Tokyo
Villetta sat huddled in her cell, her wrists cuffed behind her back. Her cell was spartan, consisting only of a hard cot, a metal sink, and a toilet which offered no privacy from the watchful eyes of the guards outside the transparent, plexiglass wall. Her surviving subordinates were in the surrounding cells, alternating between pacing, sleeping, exercising, and in once case meditating, while they awaited their captors.
Villetta sighed deeply. This was far less than what she had wanted for her men, but Tohdoh's surrender had knocked the last of the fight out of her. She would not allow her men to be killed in a futile last stand that wouldn't have made a difference on the outcome.
She closed her eyes. Kaname, please be alright.
How much blood had he lost? He'd been so gray when they wheeled him out of the room. Could his wounds have been infected?
Villetta shook her head, trying to banish her worried questions to the recesses of her mind.
The sharp clicking of boots snapped her out of her thoughts. One of Ohgi's friends- Tamaki, right?- stopped outside her cell. His face was blackened, his uniform dirty and torn at the shoulders. His red hair had a greasy sheen to it.
"Yo," he began, "you're Ohgi's girl, right?"
Villetta nodded. "Is he alright?" she asked nervously. "We tried to give him treatment-"
"Lady, his ass is out," Tamaki(?) interrupted. "They got him on enough drugs to make an elephant stoned."
"S-So he's-"
He shrugged. "I really got no idea. Haven't got the first clue about medical crap." He rubbed his head. "My buddy's got tubes comin' outta 'em all o'er the place. I ain't stickin' around to look at that."
Villetta sympathized, though she didn't agree. Ignorance hurt far worse than knowledge.
She sat back against the wall. "What will happen to us?" she asked, gesturing with her chin towards her subordinates, who were doing everything they could to listen to their conversation.
"Don't sweat it," Tamaki- It has to be him, who else would it be?- reassured her. "I got no idea what Zero's gonna do with ya, but you'll probabaly be straight. Zero's pretty cool, till ya piss 'em off, anyway."
Villetta's throat tightened. They had done far more than that.
…
Black Knight Detainment Center, Tokyo, United States of Japan
Urabe was held in a kneeling position, his wrists cuffed behind his back. They had taken him to a makeshift green tint that had a few traces of mold at the edges, parked over hard concrete in a parking lot that had once been a supermarket. Black Knights lined the walls around him, none of them looking at him. He tried to entreat them into a conversation, but they steadfastly refused to speak, denying him needed intelligence. He could hear gunshots outside every so often.
His gloved fists creaked as he clenched them.
What's happening to my boys?
His ears twitched at the telltale sound of shouting outside. He looked up just in time to see the tent flap across from him jerk open, revealing a pair of Black Knights restraining a struggling Chiba.
"Get your hands off of me!" she barked. "Let me go, I said!"
"Quit struggling, bitch!" the older of the two commanded.
Chiba bucked left and right, her lovely face twisted in a snarl.
Urabe gave a nervous look at the guards surrounding him, who looked as if they were about to intervene.
"Chiba!" he called out.
Her face snapped to his, disbelief warring with relief in her countenance. "Urabe!" she said, a temporary relieved smile on her face, before it turned back into angry cursing as the guards manhandled her next to him.
"I can sit down on my own, you bastards!" she declared, trying to tear away from them to do just that.
"Chiba, there's no point in struggling," Urabe warned her. "Just sit down."
"I won't let them win, Urabe," Chiba ground out. She sent furious glares all around her. "They may have taken us, but they will not have our submission!"
She struggled more harshly than ever, kicking her captors as hard as she could, attempting to headbutt (Bite?) the man holding her left arm.
One of the guards on the wall, clearly having had enough, stepped out place. He grabbed the struggling woman by the shoulder and punched her hard in the gut.
"Hey!" Urabe shouted. "Don't touch her!"
Chiba wheezed, the breath knocked out of her. Her knees buckled as she tumbled to the floor, coughing raggedly. When the soldiers went to force her down, she complied, coming into a shaky seated position next to Urabe.
Urabe scowled up at the young man that had punched her, a pimply faced teenager with blonde hair and blue eyes. "What the Hell was that?" he demanded, his teeth clenched. "Is that how you treat prisoners?"
The teenager narrowed his eyes. "You're lucky you're alive at all, traitor," he said coldly. "You scum killed my brother. Were it up to me, you'd both already be moldering in a mass grave."
Urabe clicked his tongue. He turned to Chiba. "Are you alright?" he asked her.
She gave a nervous shake of her head. "I-" she fell into a fit of coughing. "I-I don't know." She hunched over, protecting her belly.
Urabe looked her up and down. He didn't hit her that hard, he thought. He glanced down where she'd been struck. Did he strike her solar plexus?
Before he could confirm her status, the tent flap opened again. The soldiers lining the wall came to attention. Urabe looked up.
A young man in a trench coat and black kepi hat, his face shrouded behind a black scarf, and a black band over his left eye, stepped into the room. He was very slight, so much so Urabe thought a hard breeze might tip him over. His lone visible eye was violet, sharpened into a dangerous dagger.
Behind him, to Urabe's surprise, was Kozuki, wearing her skintight red flightsuit that left little to the imagination, over which was a thick black coat and a pair of black pants. Her red hair had a greasy sheen to it, and there were bruises on her cheeks. Her eyes were a frigid blue.
A seat was brought inside, on which the newcomer sat, his deadly gaze fixed squarely on them.
"Good morning to you," the stranger said. "I'm Colonel Alan Spacer, commander of the Black Knights Expeditionary Force. First Consul Zero, in his wisdom, has delegated to me the task of debriefing you both. I have some very simple questions that I would like you to answer. Tread carefully," he warned. "Answer honestly and without prevarication. Your very lives depend upon it."
Urabe stared the young man down. First Consul? The only thing I've heard out of Zero's fanatics was 'Lord Zero.' Is there some daylight between these two?
"My name is Colonel Kousetsu Urabe, Japanese Army, serial number 1-1-3-5-7," he said.
"Colonel Nagisa Chiba," Chiba said weakly, still recovering from the blow to her belly. "Japanese Army, serial number 2-OH-6-6-2."
"Under the Geneva Accords, which recognizes the legal prosecution of armed conflict," Urabe continued, "that is all we are required to tell you."
Urabe ignored the clicking of guns around them. Kozuki glared down at him furiously.
Spacer blinked slowly, almost lackadaisical in his observation. "Colonel Urabe, I have no need for your cooperation," he said. "I was chosen by the First Consul to head this operation because of a very particular skill, one which I would prefer not to use on you if I can help it."
Urabe heard a gunshot outside. "If you think we're going to be intimidated, you're sorely mistaken," he said. "If you want either of us to tell you anything, you'll have to agree to our conditions."
"I don't have to agree to anything, Colonel. We won. You are in no position to demand anything from me." He grabbed the patch over his eye and lifted it, revealing pristine skin an ivory white. Next to him, Kozuki stiffened, her eyes betraying fear and disgust. "Last chance," he said. "Tell me what I wish to know."
Urabe studied Kozuki in his peripheral vision. Though it was minute, she was clearly fidgeting uncomfortably, as if she'd rather be anywhere but there. Something was wrong here. Whatever Spacer was going to do, it was clearly bad enough for Kozuki to be horrified by it.
"If not a condition, then may I make a request?" Urabe asked carefully.
Spacer eyed him curiously. He waved a hand allowing him to continue.
"The battle's over," Urabe said. "Quit killing my boys."
Spacer cocked his head. "Boys? You don't have any boys," he said with such a chilly politeness that Urabe could feel shivers going up and down his spine. "You are in command of nothing, Urabe. What's left out there is a mindless rabble, a herd of pigs being led to the slaughter. Whether or not they live is for the First Consul to decide, not I."
Kozuki snorted, rolling her eyes. Spacer glanced over at her, his eye twinkling with a hint of amusement.
"Those are men out there, Colonel Spacer," Urabe urged. "Men who have surrendered. There's no honor in murdering unarmed men."
"I'm not playing for honor, Colonel," Spacer retorted. "I'm playing for keeps."
Urabe bristled. "If you're just-"
"Urabe," Chiba said weakly. Urabe looked over at her, grimacing at her ashen appearance. "Urabe, just do what he wants."
Urabe's jaw dropped. "Chiba, what?"
"What's the point of fighting over it?" she asked him. "He's going to get what he wants whether we resist or not. Just answer his questions."
Just what did that punch do to you?
Urabe gritted his teeth. "What do you want to know?" he asked.
Spacer took a long moment to answer, his eye suspiciously gazing at Chiba. While still looking at her, he directed his question at Urabe. "Was the JLF responsible for the bombing of Ashford Academy?"
"No," Urabe and Chiba answered unequivocally. "We had nothing to do with it," Chiba continued. "Absolutely nothing. We were all horrified when it happened."
"Then why didn't you get into contact with Zero?" Spacer asked.
Urabe glowered at him. "We did. Zero never answered our communications. I don't know that he was responsible for the attack-"
"Of course he wasn't!" Kozuki interjected scornfully, rolling her eyes. "Ohgi and I were attending the Festival, you morons! Why the Hell would Zero decide to bomb it when his bodyguard and right-hand man were there?"
"Well, how were we to know?" Chiba retorted. "Zero was silent, and none of you were giving us satisfactory answers for three days! Three!"
"When we heard that the Sub-Viceroy was attending," Urabe added, "what were we supposed to think? Zero wasn't shy about killing Royals and other higher ups before, why should he be now?"
"Because there were well over a thousand civilians present," Spacer cut in. "Zero would never deliberately target innocent civilians."
Kozuki nodded her agreement. "In our early days, we made our bones eliminating resistance groups that engaged in wanton terrorism. Why on earth would we have resorted to it then?"
"The chance to take out a high-ranking officer of the Crown?" Chiba pointed out. "Cornelia was already exhausted. Killing her sister would have tipped her over the edge."
"It certainly would have helped throw her off kilter," Urabe agreed. "There were many tangible benefits to hitting the Ashford Festival, so long as you didn't mind the inevitable collateral damage."
Kozuki went to say something, but Spacer put a gentle hand to her wrist. She calmed down immediately.
Urabe studied her body language carefully. Odd. She seems rather docile with him. I remember her worshiping the ground Zero trod.
Spacer himself seemed very comfortable with her; comfy enough, in fact, to place his hands on her without fear of reprisal. Now that Urabe was looking at her properly, he could see a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks.
Is this why he refers to Zero by his official title rather than the appellation of 'Lord'?
"One more question," Spacer said, dragging Urabe from his thoughts. "What do you know of a man named Mao?"
"Never heard of him," Urabe answered.
"Who the Hell is Mao?" Chiba asked, far less sanguine than himself.
Spacer tapped his leg, nodding silently to himself. "So, it's true, then," he muttered. "It really was a giant misunderstanding."
"Excuse me?" Urabe asked. "What's a giant misunderstanding?"
Spacer waved his hand. "It doesn't matter, not to you anyway," he said. He stood up, readjusting his coat as he did. He turned to the nearest Black Knight, a sergeant. "There's rope prepared outside. Hang 'em high."
"Yes, sir!" the sergeant replied.
"Wait, what?" Urabe demanded.
"You're not getting a trial," Spacer explained calmly, his visible eye bored. "Tohdoh's going to get one because of who he is, but I don't have to do a damn thing for either one of you. You JLF bastards have caused me one too many headaches, and I've already made mistakes before about using people whose interests don't align with mine long after I should have done away with them."
"Please, wait!" Chiba cried out. "We can do whatever you wish. We can be productive!"
"Of that I have no doubt," Spacer agreed. "Your competence is self-evident. But, that's precisely the problem. So long as you live, you will always be a rallying point. I will always have to look over my shoulder. I refuse to worry about you."
"But, we can-"
"Nagisa," Urabe interrupted. He glanced at her meaningfully. "Please, save your honor." He glared at Spacer. "This bastard's not worth it. Let us die with our honor and our dignity intact."
"WHAT IS HONOR TO A WOMAN WHEN HER CHILD IS ABOUT TO DIE?" Chiba shouted.
Urabe whirled his head to, eyes bulging. "What?" he and Spacer asked simultaneously.
Chiba stared pleadingly at Spacer. "Please," she begged, tears in her eyes, "I'm pregnant."
For the first time, Urabe could see a genuine emotion in Spacer's stance: astonishment.
"Oh," he said.
…..
Zero pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing can ever be simple, he moaned silently.
They stood twenty yards outside the tent, the sounds of equipment, personnel, and prisoners marching all around them. It was the perfect location to remain abreast of the ongoing situation while being able to have a private conversation.
"Colonel," Kallen asked him, "what are you thinking?"
The universe was created for the sole purpose of screwing me over.
"I mean, this complicates things considerably," she added.
No shit.
"Whose kid do you think it is?"
"The Emperor's, for all it goddamn matters," Zero replied aloud. He sighed. "It's Tohdoh's. I don't have any doubts whatsoever. He was the only man Chiba ever loved."
"'Was?'" Kallen said questioningly. "He's still alive."
Not for long. "Regardless, Chiba has never shown interest in any other man," Zero said. "Meaning the heir to the JLF is currently growing inside her belly."
He'd never be able to make a clean sweep of the JLF now. Asahina and Senba were dead, Tohdoh as good as, but the man's dick had just robbed him of ultimate victory. He could still execute Urabe, but sparing Chiba would raise suspicions among the rank and file. They would come to the not unreasonable conclusion that the child of a Holy Sword, if not Tohdoh's himself, had been sired.
Either that, or they'd think I'm raping her.
Either way, Chiba would be a rallying point for the Tohdoh loyalists for the foreseeable future.
"We're not gonna kill her are we?" Kallen asked nervously.
"Of course not!" Zero snapped. "Killing her would be the height of stupidity!"
Who knows about the pregnancy? Urabe certainly didn't, if his reaction was honest. So, it stands to reason that Tohdoh doesn't either, right? I mean, what kind of nut sends his pregnant girlfriend into battle? There has to be someone. A doctor that she would have confided in, maybe even another woman she went to for help. The last thing I need is some Hell-sent confidant telling everyone I killed Tohdoh's unborn child!
Zero groaned. "I am proof, Kallen," he said.
"Proof?"
"Yes. I am living proof that God has a sense of humor." And it is sadistic.
Kallen giggled at him, which was about as decent a reaction as he could have hoped for. He found himself smiling despite himself.
She sidled up next to him, wrapping her hand gently around his arm. "What are you thinking?" she asked him again, gently.
"That I'm well and truly screwed," he answered honestly. "I can't execute Urabe without killing her, and I'm not going to kill a pregnant woman." Kill her after she has the kid? A possibility. Ah, but that still leaves the problem of the child!
"Couldn't you just geass the both of them into saying the kid's Urabe's?" Kallen asked. "Or, Hell, don't even geass them, just make them pretend?"
"My position would never be secure," Zero rejected with a shake of his head. "Who'd believe us? I sure as Hell wouldn't in their position, even if it was true." A thought occurred to him. "Goddammit!" he cursed. "I can't pull what I was going to with Tohdoh!"
"Why not?"
"'Zero has General Tohdoh's child', is what they'll be thinking," he answered, already feeling furious. "'He made our General put on this disgraceful show!' That's what the Rebs will believe, and I can't even blame them for it! The bastard's screwing me from beyond the grave!"
"He's still alive."
"Details," Zero said dismissively.
Kallen tapped her foot. "Maybe..." she said hesitantly.
Zero cocked an eyebrow. "'Maybe' what?"
"Maybe this is a good thing?" she offered tentatively.
He stared at her flatly. "How is this a good thing?"
"Lelouch," she said, soft enough so that only he could hear, "what you were planning with Tohdoh was...it was wrong." She shuddered. "It was vicious, cruel, and without mercy. Doing that to Tohdoh, to his men, would have been obscene. They would never have forgiven you for it."
"I don't want or need their forgiveness," Zero said coldly.
"Yes, you do," Kallen countered. "We are a house divided. The war may be over, for now, but have we really won? The enemy is still in the field. Tohdoh is getting them to surrender, but these are hardened fighters who are ready, willing, and able to return to revolt if we push them too hard." She hugged herself closer to him.
"War is coming," she continued. "War with Britannia, all or nothing, winner take all. We need all the help we can get if we're to have even a chance of winning. We won't have that chance if we all still hate each other when the Empire returns. So, please..."
Kallen intertwined her fingers with his.
"Please, Lelouch, forgive them, and let them forgive you in return."
Zero sighed deeply. He closed his eye for a moment, pushing aside the stress that clung to him like an old lover who couldn't take a hint. The musky scent that was Kallen filtered in through his scarf, providing him a sense of calm relief he otherwise didn't feel.
He opened his eye, glancing over at the tent flap where the source of his current frustration awaited.
"We have time," he finally said. "We'll wait until the surrenders are finalized and we begin reintegrating the JLF back into the Black Knights. We'll need as wide an audience as possible no matter what I have planned, anyway."
I'd also like to get C-Two's take on the matter, he thought but did not say. He'd radio the troops he left behind to go ahead and bring her in. He sighed internally. Knowing my luck, she's got some seriously medieval advice awaiting me. Speaking of which…
Zero gently disentangled himself from Kallen's grasp. She backed away from him demurely, a disappointed but understanding look on her face.
Zero swallowed. What am I going to do about this? Despite himself, he asked, "That sushi restaurant isn't by reservation is it?"
He felt his misgivings melt away in the face of her warm smile.
The comm bead in his ear beeped. He tapped the button on it.
"Spacer here, what is it?"
What he heard on the other end made him smile.
…
Presidential Palace Confinement Zone, Presidential Palace, Tokyo
Villetta was awoken from her restless slumber by a hard banging on her cell wall.
"Yo! You wanna see Ohgi, get your ass up!"
Villetta blinked the sleep out of her eyes. She had nodded off sitting up, and her neck was stiff from the awkward angle. Her arms and wrists were similarly sore from having been held in their current position for who-knew-how-long at this point. By the time she stood up and was ready to move, Tamaki had slid the cell door open, gesturing with a machine pistol for her to come out in front of him.
She marched out in front of him, bearing as dignified an air as she could with a stiff back and a crick in her neck. They left the Detention Center at a fast pace, Tamaki just nodding his head at ever security checkpoint they passed along the way.
The sun outside was bright against the blue sky that shown cheerfully over the palace, providing a much needed warm balm against the frigid air that awaited her. Soldiers, technicians, and civilians milled about in a controlled chaos, alternating between haphazard patrols and clearing debris and bodies. There were many of them, too many in fact so far as Villetta was concerned, and most of them weren't wearing uniforms.
The civilians were thin, their bones clearly pronounced in their faces, their ragged clothes hanging off their bodies. The soldiers weren't much better, more wiry than lean. They all wore tired, hardened expressions, and those few that deigned to look at her only showed her cold contempt. The noise was muted while they worked, only a few quiet words mouthed between one another, as if they were in an outdoor tomb, performing sacred rites for the burial of the dead.
Villetta was an intruder here, as bizarre as that seemed. She had been stationed at the palace in better days, when the occupation was at its strongest, and she was still climbing the ladder that would lead her to landed nobility.
It was a whole other lifetime.
Tamaki hadn't spoken to her once in the courtyard. Every time she would slow down, be it to let someone pass, or to stare at some new horror, the barrel of his gun would press into her back, and she was on the move again.
Once the reached the interior of the palace, she heard him shuffle behind her. "Sorry 'bout the silent treatment," he apologized ruefully. "Didn't want 'em to think we were all buddy buddy. That could get ya killed." He placed a hand on her arm, not cruelly, guiding her down the hallway. "This way."
"I appreciate it," Villetta told him honestly.
He winked at her. "Hey, you're Ohgi's girl, right?" he said. "Gotta look after ya, or he'll have my head!"
Was she Ohgi's girl? Villetta wasn't sure anymore. Months of grief, frustration, and betrayal were feelings that were hard to move past, even now as Tamaki ushered her toward him. The love was still there, just as strong as it had been; but, how much damage had been done by the lies and secrecy?
How much damage was done with that bullet? Villetta sniffed disdainfully.
"Where are the others?" she asked him. To his confused look, she added, "Ohgi's friends, your friends. The other leaders of the Black Knights."
Tamaki shrugged. "Doing all kinds of important stuff, I guess," he replied. "They all got big, highfalutin' jobs."
Villetta raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you the Minister of Sanitation?"
Tamaki beamed proudly. "Yep," he confirmed cheerfully. "Zero givin' me the job was the happiest day of my life!"
Villetta stared at him incredulously.
Tamaki blushed. "No, seriously," he explained, "I always wanted to be a bureaucrat. Get to wear a fancy suit, have everybody call me 'Minister.'" He laughed. "Man, this is the life!"
I can't believe we lost to this.
It took ten minutes to weave their way through the palace. The hallways were packed with people moving to and fro, carrying dispatches or just trying to get by. That task was made more difficult by the lines of injured laid out on the floor, their weak, pain-filled moans cutting across Villetta's heart like a dagger.
She steeled herself against it. This wasn't Villetta's first time walking through the aftermath of a battle's glory, though doing at as a prisoner of war was certainly a novel experience. Tamaki led her to a staircase, the elevator having apparently been put out of order during the fighting, and they climbed two sets of them, bringing Villetta on level with what she knew was the office space. From there, it was a straight march down the hall, to a room guarded by a pair of Black Knights on either side of the door.
Villetta shuffled nervously while Tamaki showed them an ID card. What was she going to do? What would she say? Ohgi had been injured because of her. How was she supposed to approach this situation? From her position, she could see inside the room. Ohgi was partially hidden by a plastic privacy curtain, his outline a blurry smear behind the translucent shade. She took a step back.
The guards waved them through the door, Tamaki gently pushing her across the threshold.
"The docs said he was stable," Tamaki told her as he brought her beside the bed. "Though, if you'd taken any longer to quit, they don't think they coulda saved 'im."
Villetta swallowed heavily. Tamaki pulled back the curtain, revealing Ohgi behind it. Villetta breathed in deeply.
Tubes ran out of Ohgi's body, feeding him nutrition, water, and blood. A face mask hooked up to a breather unit was continuously fogging as he breathed. His skin was pale, so pale she might have thought him dead were it not for the heartbeat monitor beeping calmly in the background.
Villetta's eyes swam.
"Ohgi'll recover from this," Tamaki said. "Probably the strongest dude I know. But, uh..." He turned to her, scratching his cheek awkwardly. "Just don't shoot 'im again, alright?"
Villetta nodded stiffly, her eyes never leaving Ohgi's form.
"We can stay in here a while," he offered. "Wait for 'im to wake up."
Villetta didn't trust herself to speak. She nodded her acquiescence.
Tamaki guided her to a chair next to the bed that gave her a clear view.
The cuffs on her wrists stayed on.
…
Black Knight Detainment Center, Tokyo, United States of Japan
When the flap of the tent opened, revealing Spacer and Kozuki again, Urabe made his move. "The child is mine!" he declared immediately. Spacer stopped in his tracks. "Chi-Nagisa and I have been, well-" he felt very embarrassed- "lovers for some time now."
"U-Urabe!" Chiba said, her face flushing.
"Please, do not hurt our child!" Urabe begged. "Let Nagisa," using her first name was so uncomfortable, "and our baby live."
Spacer stared at him for what felt like an eternity, his visible eye slowly blinking. Kozuki looked to the colonel, an intrigued eyebrow cocked.
"Okay," Spacer said nonchalantly. "The child is yours. Congratulations are in order."
There's no way he actually believes me, Urabe thought.
Spacer clasped his hands behind his back. "This, of course, changes a few things," he began. "Clearly, the First Consul has no intention of harming an expecting mother." He eyed Urabe carefully. "And, of course, a child should have a father. Are you married?"
Urabe was bewildered. "Ah, um, no, no we're not," he spluttered.
Spacer tut-tutted. "That's no good. You should set an example. You'll be married before this week is through, yes?"
Urabe nodded dumbly. "Yes, absolutely."
Spacer applauded. "Excellent!" he said excitedly. "The people could do with a happy distraction in the midst of all this destruction. A new life could breathe new hope into this land." He fiddled around with one of his gloves. "Of course," he added, "the First Consul will expect you to take to the field as soon as your wedding concludes. It's a certainty that there will be many recalcitrants who will refuse Zero's mercy, not to mention what few Britannian stragglers are still left."
He turned his back on them. "Naturally, Ms. Chiba will have to remain in the hospital, under close observation, while she awaits the birth of your child," he continued. "We do want it to be a safe birthing, yes?" He turned his violet eye on Urabe.
Urabe nodded. "I had no other thought," he lied through gritted teeth.
"Good. She shall enjoy the finest Black Knight hospitality."
"Do I get say in any of this?" Chiba asked irately.
Spacer turned that violet eye on her. It flashed dangerously. "If you have anything you want to add, Ms. Chiba, please do so," he entreated in a flat tone.
Chiba visibly shrank back. "I...my rank is Colonel, Colonel Spacer," she offered lamely. "I would appreciate you using it."
"Ranks are meant for those in the military," Spacer reminded her. "Your military career is over. After all," Urabe could almost see the smug grin, "you have a child to take care of now. And we wouldn't want that child to grow up an orphan, would we?"
Urabe held his gaze. This was a polite fiction, from top to bottom. So long as they behaved, the Black Knights would treat it as such. If they didn't…
Urabe didn't want to think of the consequences.
When neither of them answered, his eye crinkled in a smile. "I thought not. Now then, we should-"
The tent flap jerked open behind him. "Colonel! Colonel Spacer!" he cried out.
The Britannian turned to look at the man irritably. "This had better be damn important," he groused, following the soldier outside.
As Urabe sagged back in on himself, he was startled when he heard Spacer shout, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN 'SHE'S GONE'?"