The time for trading entreaties to join forces was over. Aurora felt for Kallen; standing on the sideline while this battle of minds and hearts was waged between two incredibly powerful men, trapped in her own shock and betrayal. As for Suzaku, the thread was spun too thin, the ubiquitous hate and pain roiling through his system like a storm. She could see his hand shake against the comforter; the way it had shaken on the hilt of a gun three years ago. His control frayed, and every agony and anguish he'd suffered since Euphie's death erupted into screams that ended on a gunshot.
She felt it, and saw it. If the royal children each had a gift, then this was hers. An incredible ability to paint a picture in her mind with little scraps of information. It's what had made her so skilled at her career. It's also what haunted her at night. For a moment, the cracking echo of the gunshot vibrated against her spine, and Aurora had to remind herself to breathe. When she finally managed to suck in a lungful of air, she leaned back in her chair, taking a sip of her cold tea before returning her eyes to Suzaku. She knew that this was the point of the story where he turned. Where the idealistic boy was finally strangled into silence, leaving nothing but the brutal soldier in his wake. She prepared herself for that, told herself that what little judgment she had a right to levy against him would be done with what he had suffered kept in mind. At her nod, he heaved a deep breath, and described what he had done next.
She had to admire Suzaku's honesty. Not that there was much point lying to her, but she could sense the regret, even a bit of shame in his voice, as he told her how easily he had overpowered Lelouch, how he'd sold his best friend to the Emperor in exchange for power. Caught between them in understanding, Aurora took a moment to mourn for both of them, and condemn both of them. Breaking her usual habit, she asked no questions, and offered no opinions. Until they reached the end, she had none.
His eyes faded for a moment, gazing into the past the way he'd once gazed at a defeated Lelouch.
There was nothing there.
Those green irises, so striking and lovely, were empty, blank as the abyss and as indifferent. Even after all that he'd suffered, all the guilt he cloaked himself in and suffocated under, Suzaku still felt that cold power and cool disdain for the man who had killed the woman he loved. Aurora couldn't blame him, but she couldn't deny that it sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn't sure why, but that monolith, that titan within a boy's skin, struck her at her core. Even if there were only fragments of him left.
But the man he spoke of, the man he'd once been, who gained favor from the 98th Emperor and unflinchingly betrayed all that he held dear in order to gain the power to do what love had been unable to. That man was the hardest to reach, the hardest to sympathize with. It wasn't terribly difficult to pinpoint the moment when the sweet boy developed a spine of steel, and a heart just as hard. When he'd sold his soul in a desperate attempt to appease its pain. How could you ask anyone who held the hand of the one they loved as they slipped away to remain normal? But he'd gone too far. Aurora couldn't give him amnesty, not in this.
Battle, the state of existence Suzaku had always found reprehensible, became the only way for him to find the peace and balance that Euphemia's death had robbed him of. But when the possibility of Lelouch's memories returning reared its head, Suzaku returned to Ashford. The slight bemusement around his mouth betrayed his discomfort.
Returning to the place he'd attended on Euphemia's orders. Facing down Lelouch, judging every moment, every word, every expression, to determine whether or not he was once again Lelouch vi Britannia, or still simply Lelouch Lamperouge. Staring into the face of the man who had destroyed him, who he in turn handed over to be destroyed. He must have felt so old, so battered, in the face of the youthfulness of the student council. Suzaku even murmured as much, tracing his fingers over a square of the quilt in a diamond pattern. He'd felt like he was eighty, not just eighteen. But the mission had come first, the only remaining pillar of his crumbling world. When that objective had been completed, what had he been left with?
The student council's concern for Kallen had surprised him, as much as their pleas for friends and family had disturbed him. His were gone; the only thing left for him was justice, or revenge. At that point, they were so blurred, he'd hardly been able to separate the two.
He spoke briefly, and with slight fondness, of several of his fellow Knights of the Round, especially Gino and Anya. Both painfully young like him. Yet he'd seemed decades older, especially compared to Gino, who was only a year younger than Suzaku. Had his time back at Ashford been a relief, a way to slip back into the life he should have had, the person he should have been? Or was it a ridiculous sham, one that grated at his very bones, forced to paste on a smile and listen to the prattle? How had he viewed that time, those people? At this moment, Aurora would have to guess that he'd been caught somewhere in between, the only constant thing the pain.
So enveloped by that pain, he'd done what any person did under the continual weight of it; he sought to inflict equal pain on the person who had wounded him. Having grown up with Lelouch and Nunnally, Aurora knew as well as Suzaku the depth of the bond between them. And so she knew how cruel he had been when he'd tested Lelouch with a blue phone, an unaware Nunnally on the other end of the line.
He hadn't known at the time the trick Lelouch and Rolo had played with the damaged little assassin's Geass, but Lelouch had admitted it later. Suzaku had walked away with the evidence proclaiming that Lelouch's demon was still asleep, but his instincts had hummed, protesting otherwise. But it hadn't been fast enough; Zero had slipped free, and gone after Nunnally.
Suzaku should have known to pay more attention to Nunnally; wherever she was, so inevitably would be Lelouch. But the situation had escalated far faster than he could have guessed. She could have died in the fray, if he'd been only seconds later in that battle over the Pacific. He, and Lelouch, could have lost her.
Suzaku had always loved Nunnally, much more than anyone he'd been related to by blood. She was such a gentle soul, strangely perceptive and eternally loving. The oath he swore to protect her was never taken lightly. Although their paths had diverged so severely, it was ironic that Suzaku fulfilled the role that Lelouch had originally assigned him in his early plannings of the game he was going to play with the world. Nunnally was the last thing Suzaku had left to protect, the last toehold he had on his sanity. If he were to lose her…
But he'd underestimated her. Her desire to reinstate the Special Administrative Zone had taken him utterly by surprise, and had almost driven him to his knees. It was only Suzaku's long-standing military training that had instilled the discipline to keep himself under control during Nunnally's speech. Everything, down to his very bones, had shaken. Sweet little Nunnally, attempting to resurrect Euphie's dream. His battered, gutted heart had trembled as he listened to her say the words Euphie had once proclaimed from the palm of a Knightmare, also over a live feed. He'd been so proud, and in so much agony, he could hardly stand it.
Aurora had watched that broadcast, too. She'd been taken by surprise. Nunnally had always been so soft, so fragile, and her injuries had only heightened that fact. And though the new Viceroy of Area 11 was certainly delicate, she was by no means impotent. Aurora realized that Nunnally's power could equal Lelouch's at that moment when she held the balance of the world power in her small, white little hand.
Suzaku served her as faithfully as he had Euphemia. With the navy at his disposal, he'd hunted down the Black Knights. He'd almost flushed them out when Lelouch had done what he did best; he used his surroundings more than his forces to his advantage. It was another glaring example of the difference between Lelouch and Suzaku. Lelouch preferred the board, Suzaku the pieces. Mostly because Lelouch knew the fallacy of human nature, and preferred the surroundings, which could be trusted to behave. Suzaku, however, knew that the difference between winning and losing was often up to a single soldier and his heart – that fallacy was where some of the greatest courage stemmed.
For the second time, Zero accepted his invitation to the Special Administrative Zone. Suzaku hadn't believed it, or condoned it, not at first. But as the day grew closer, he couldn't help but visualize the possibilities if the Zone worked.
But a surprise visit from a determined, if incompetent, assassin reminded Suzaku of his place, and the heavy burden of his Geass command. He'd hardly needed the help of some magic he hadn't really understood, since he could have disarmed the man with the same ease he exhibited when getting into a car or drinking a glass of water, but it served as a reminder. Of the punishment he had sought for himself in death, and the far worse one that he'd been sentenced to when forced to live.
Anya had been more perceptive than Aurora would have thought. It was tragic, the way Suzaku had always been at odds with his own people. The one person who had fully understood him had died holding his hand. Yes, he'd been on trial, Aurora thought. But the harshest judge was himself.
Of course his hope was dimmed at Zero's request for exile. It left him feeling powerless and empty, and he was faced with the unassailable truth; this was revenge. He'd managed to placate himself whenever his morals had balked at the actions he took. Suzaku told himself this was all for justice. But justice wasn't supposed to feel this way.
Even so, Suzaku had dared to hope, dared to believe that this time, it would go as was planned. Lighting a candle in Euphie's name had done what all the heart-shattering memories couldn't – it gave him a brief outlet for his pain, a purpose. This time, no lives would be lost and Euphie's memory could be honored, instead of simply just avenged. And thanks to his weakness, a part of his hope was achieved. Of course, it came at the expense of his pride. So Lelouch had stripped him even of that.
Aurora felt a pained chuckle peal through her head at the distinct memory of the inauguration. For two men who were so opposed to one another, they tended to agree about the most important things at the most inconvenient times. She'd only known Suzaku as the public figure of the Knight of Seven, but her research had revealed a strong young boy who offered the hand of friendship to a captive. She'd known when Zero – Lelouch – had known. Suzaku would let them all go.
And then there was that debacle with the Empress…
When Aurora had heard the news – not through the media, but through her more clandestine networks – she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Odysseus was a flaming idiot, an incompetent first try who was outrageously outclassed by most of his younger brothers, especially Lelouch and Schneizel. She'd never gotten along with him, and had almost brought the seventeen year old to tears when he'd ripped the shoulder of her plush toy tiger. It had taken the combined forces of Cornelia and Euphemia to drag her off. No one had ever accused her of being a lady. And she pitied the Empress, being forced to accept a fate Aurora would have no doubt contended with herself if she'd stayed in the courts.
Suzaku was too polite to say, but she could sense that he'd felt the same way, about both Odysseus and the Empress. The gathering of such an… eclectic crowd had been interesting. Since he stumbled over the words slightly, Aurora could tell that he was hedging. It had been one of the few times she'd really, really wished she still had her old job. It would have been easier than brushing her teeth to wrangle an invitation. And all the thick, ridiculous scandals would have been a field day.
But she had to rely on Suzaku's recounting of the event, which had started innocuously enough. Of course, anytime Schneizel entered the room, things were bound to get complicated fast. Although Aurora had often disagreed with Schneizel as a child, and was a little afraid of him, she could always count on him to keep things from getting boring. For a hyperactive kid, that had meant the world.
The presence of not one, but two of his schoolmates had certainly surprised Suzaku, and briefly put him at ease. As the child of a political figure, he had been no stranger to that sort of event. But as a Knight of the Round, he had been expected to act with even more decorum. Aurora could picture him in his sharp-lined Round uniform, kneeling with a serious, soldier's expression on his face. The image came to her so clearly, she had to wonder if she'd seen him like that before, in some news broadcast or in the papers. Either way, he had carried the attire like he'd been born to it.
Of course, the appearance of Zero threw the entire gathering into breathless disarray. Suzaku had wasted no time ranging himself in front of Schneizel. Zero might have achieved his most recent aims without bloodshed, but Suzaku trusted him about as far as he could throw his Knightmare. What he hadn't counted on was Lady Kaguya's brisk and cheerful maneuvering. She spoke of things that haunted him with a sparkling smile. His pained hesitation was enough to allow Zero the opening to pose a wager.
Suzaku probably hadn't realized the importance of it at the time, but Aurora immediately tensed when he told her that the game was chess. Lelouch and Schneizel had played that damn game for hours on end, the younger ever determined to beat the elder. Despite Schneizel's seniority, Lelouch was a skilled opponent, his creativity and sheer drive hard to contend with. And though Lelouch was a prodigy, Schneizel was gifted with machinations and fronts, their dueling of wits a tight race. Aurora had rarely been able to sit through their games; she'd try, but then she'd get bored of the two impassive boys staring fiendishly at a checkered board. She would have to hear of the results through some other means. Even then, she was skilled at building networks of information, and the results were always the same, anyway. Lelouch would lose, often by a tight margin and dragging surrender.
It would seem that this time was a little different. Schneizel had thrown the game to draw Zero out, and before the result of the wager could be decided by Zero's next move, poor, crazed Nina had tried to kill the terrorist. It wouldn't be the first time she leaped off the deep end, nor the last, and luckily, Suzaku was there this time to stop her from driving that ornamental knife between Zero's ribs. But her shrill reminders had made him slacken his grip.
She was right. He was Euphemia's knight, now and forever. And there he stood, not ten feet from the man who had shot her, and he did nothing. The confusion and rage swirled up and choked him, and if it hadn't been for Kallen, Nina would have succeeded. But it was the pity that moved him. Poor, pathetic Nina. She had clung to the idea of Euphemia so tightly, that when she lost her, she lost her sanity with her. There was a caged, insane part of him that saw itself mirrored in Nina's tearful shrieking, and threw itself against the bars. But unlike the unhinged schoolgirl, Suzaku never let that part of him free. Ever.
As she had fallen to her knees, Suzaku had needed someone to blame. Nina hadn't always been this way. And the easiest answer, the target of all his rage, his pain, was Zero. The evening had ended awkwardly, and Aurora's suspicions were confirmed. It had been one for the books, and she wished vehemently that she'd managed to see it all for herself. But realistically, it was entirely possible that she could have been arrested there and shipped off to Britannia for trial. Of course, she'd never see a trial, not with the people who were after her head. And her enemies had enough connections to make her man-hunt a worldwide one.
But the wedding the next day had outstripped its eventful eve. Lord Xingke had interrupted the ceremony with a level of drama and grandeur that Suzaku had thought only Zero could achieve. It had only taken one word from Cecile before he was out of the church and prepping the Lancelot, while Gino and Anya stayed behind to protect the royal brothers. He hadn't witnessed the kidnap of the Empress by Zero, but it had changed nothing but a shift in target, to one he was much more familiar with.
Suzaku was once again drawn into a reluctant battle with his old master. All lingering respect was shoved aside, however, in favor of the duty that still drove him. That hadn't prevented the destruction of his float unit, and he was left to the constraint of the political dance. Inside, he bucked and reared at the restriction like a crazed horse. But outside, he'd kept his calm and contented himself with spending time with Milly and Anya.
Meanwhile, while Suzaku was shown surprisingly poignant pictures of his welcome-home celebration, Lelouch had battled someone that matched him step for step, and even outpaced him. Like Zero, Xingke preferred the surprise of the elements once the battle had settled into predictable lines. Suzaku respected him as a pilot skilled at his level, if not beyond it. As a leader, he had certainly given Zero a run for his money.
When the Black Knights had been forced to withdraw to the Tomb of 88 Emperors, Gino and Anya were cleared for duty, eagerly engaging Xingke. Suzaku had stayed behind, facing down a stoic and unapproachable Kallen that he'd brokered with the High Eunuchs. He'd wondered if he'd feel anything for her. But this was war – sad reminders of the shadow life he'd left behind would do no good here.
However, he was more useful on the battlefield than the interrogation room, and Lancelot was deployed to once again cross swords with Todoh. Absorbed in the battle, he'd been shocked when Zero had protected both Xingke and the Empress. Lelouch was never one to take to the front lines; he was a commander, not a soldier. But his Shinkiro had certainly turned the tide.
And there had been something strange about the way Anya had fallen under the combined blades of C.C. and Chiba. It wasn't until later that Suzaku had realized the significance of it. But at the time, he'd withdrawn under Schneizel's orders, ambivalent at best about the whole situation.
Gino and Anya's abrupt enrollment at Ashford had come as a surprise, but since he was an aid to Nunnally, he wasn't able to return to the school to join them. It was something of a relief, and a disappointment. His last conversation with Milly had been a bittersweet one, and although he'd appreciated the sentiment, Suzaku had never been able to take her advice to relax. It would seem that her brand of magic wasn't strong enough to compete with Lelouch's, or Suzaku himself. And her event, although he was sad to miss it, had quickly spiraled out of control. What had Anya been thinking? But it had been nice to catch the end of it, and remember how fun the shenanigans had been while they'd lasted.
It was one of the first true smiles Aurora had seen Suzaku make. It wasn't bitter, or vicious, or spawned from broken memories. It was a moment of sheer pleasure that everything else hadn't managed to completely extinguish. It was seconds like those, a gentle curve of lips as his eyes went soft, that gave her hope for Suzaku. He was still in there, somewhere.
Suzaku had been waiting for Milly to call off her engagement to Lloyd. But she had done it for much better reasons than he'd hoped. He had always assumed she'd get tired of Lloyd's strange behavior and kick him to the curb; instead, she had done it for herself, which was much more fulfilling. Either way, Suzaku doubted Asplund would have acted any different.
When Shirley had requested him to meet her at the train station, he'd been surprised, and a little confused. The presence of Lelouch had complicated matters, and immediately set Suzaku on his guard. His old suspicions of Lelouch were resurrected, and he was left in that silent battle with his old friend again.
That hadn't dimmed the impact of the demarcation line. But it had distracted him long enough for Shirley to almost die. Once again, when they combined their forces, he and Lelouch were able to reverse the tide of fate. And his friend's pleas to the girl he refused to allow himself to love were the most heartfelt things Suzaku had heard him say in a very, very long time.
The brief peace that followed was sad, and lovely. For moment, nothing had changed.
But of course, everything had changed, and nothing could be as it once was. All it took was one thought of Euphie's pretty dress soaked in blood, and the soft joy of a boy was swallowed by the hard resolve of a man. It was hard to take up that shield again, however, with Shirley acting the way she did. He'd never really been able to figure her out, not once. But he'd always had a bit of a soft spot for her; Suzaku had always thought that she was pretty, and incredibly sweet. She'd reminded him a bit of Euphie from the first moment he met her.
It had infuriated him, to hear Shirley confess that she was in love with Lelouch. That monster didn't deserve her, didn't deserve such a love. Even as his mind raged that, his heart hadn't fully taken part. It was even stranger when she pinpointed the discord between them that both had hidden so well.
"She'd said that nothing was unforgiveable. But she was wrong." His voice was like stone, and for a moment, Aurora was confused. If he'd felt that way, he never would have joined forces with Lelouch in the end. So why…? Then it became clear. Not only had he never really forgiven Lelouch, but Suzaku had never really forgiven himself, either.
But such introspection couldn't go uninterrupted. Command had suited him, Aurora remembered from her research. He had a polite, unassuming air normally, but could display intimidation and leadership with a natural aplomb.
But, then, it hadn't been enough.
Facing the dead body of Shirley had seemed horribly familiar. Suzaku saw it often, in his dreams. Except it was Shirley who lay dead this time, not Euphie. He supposed he should have felt justified that Lelouch had lost the woman he loved, just as Suzaku had. And Lelouch had cracked at the loss just as Suzaku had. But he only felt sorrow, and shame. If she had lived, perhaps Shirley could have redeemed Lelouch and halted him from the inexorable path he was bound on. But they would never know.
The excuse of suicide had seemed weak, but the authorities had offered no other explanation. Considering her state of mind right before the incident, Suzaku would have thought it impossible. But she was dead. Who could have possibly wanted Shirley dead? His mind, having travelled one path for so long, reached the inevitable conclusion that it had to be Lelouch. He had claimed it was his heart, when in fact, it had been a crippled part of his soul that latched onto the possibility.
So Suzaku did what he always did when faced with impossible grief that had no reason and no justice. He sought to make someone give him the answers, no matter the cost. And if they paid dearly in the process, so be it.
His conversation with Kallen was not pleasant. Telling her of Shirley's death with an indifferent mask was hard enough. But voicing his accusation of Lelouch for the murder to draw a reaction out of Kallen was not something he was not proud of. What he did next, however, was even worse.
The threat of Refrain had repulsed him even as he'd presented it, but power had become an excuse, and Suzaku had pushed farther than he'd ever intended to go. Aurora knew of Kallen's mother's addiction. Kallen Kozuki had been, and still was, one of the most visible members of the Black Knights, and the easiest to gather data on. So Aurora knew the weight of the threat without Suzaku having to explain it.
"It's just that, her mother…" he trailed off, unable to speak of his shame. She merely laid a hand on his shoulder briefly.
"I know. Go on."
With the power that Suzaku had amassed, it was no surprise that he would try to take that course of action at some point. He'd sought to bend the world to his will. Why should some girl be a challenge? But of course, that thrust him down Zero's path. Lelouch's path. Just as the possibility was inevitable, so too was Suzaku's decision.
But the fury had still ridden him hard. He'd gone to Ashford to confront Lelouch, to no avail. Even the OSI had been compromised by Zero and his Geass. He'd had irrefutable proof that Lelouch had regained his memories. But Suzaku had never considered the cost to Nunnally when he'd aided in the destruction of Lelouch's memories. He was a soldier, after all, not a chess player. But it was no excuse to compromise Nunnally's safety, and so he'd masked his distress when speaking to her as he'd wrestled with the consequences. He'd never wanted to hurt her, but he had, the same way Lelouch had. With secrets and lies. It didn't take Nunnally's comparison of him to Lelouch to have Suzaku struggling with the path he'd taken. At the time, he'd still had enough willpower to fight it.
The news of the Emperor's disappearance had briefly lightened the weight of his indecision towards the action he should take, now that he was certain about Lelouch. But, as always, Suzaku was plagued with the decision of what was right. But questioning the rightness of his inaction only made him question the rightness of his action. And he'd known that with Kallen, he'd been utterly, horribly wrong.
He'd allowed the beating with no resistance. He'd known he'd deserved it. Kallen had hotly proclaimed that she'd hated him; but it was nothing compared to how much Suzaku hated himself. Aurora just shook her head very, very slightly, so as to keep him from seeing it. Ever the repenting sinner, Suzaku. It would be rather sad, if it wasn't strangely noble.
His wrong step with Kallen had made him question what he'd done, everything he'd done. And Anya's strange conversation on the value of memories had made Suzaku wonder, like he had with Lelouch, who else the Emperor had used his Geass on. How many lives Geass had twisted and warped and destroyed, besides his own.
They had been interrupted, however, by the Knight of the Round Suzaku despised, and the Knight of the Round that he'd hoped to replace. A storm was approaching, and it had seemed that Schneizel was wasting no time amassing his forces. He had been relieved that he hadn't been assigned to pilot the Guren – he had no desire to trespass on Kallen's Knightmare when his own was perfectly functional and comfortably familiar. But the question of the FLEIJA armament on the Lancelot had quickly dissolved any reprieve he might have felt. It was like Nina was handing him the key to the world's destruction, and expecting him to be the one to make the right decision, no matter how entrenched he would be in the heat of battle.
"Oh, Nina. She had no idea what she was doing, did she?" Aurora sighed, trying to mask her fury at Suzaku's deranged schoolmate.
"No," he said, resigned. "I don't believe she did."
But the ratification of the UFN charter had quickly distracted Suzaku. It had been a bold move, requiring the participating countries to surrender their militaries and contract the Black Knights as an independent, impartial defender. But it had suited Zero down to the ground. Lelouch had shifted his game; he'd begun as a terrorist, a rebel amassing illegal force. But he'd known that he couldn't stay that way forever. So he'd slowly legalized his position, both as Zero and as a liberator to Japan.
But the Emperor would never let such actions go unchallenged. And the threat to Nunnally had skyrocketed.
Suzaku hadn't known if he'd been expecting the call from Lelouch. And he hadn't known until he'd pressed the button whether or not he was going to accept it. He hadn't been surprised by Lelouch's admission of Zero, but it had burned, and made him wonder. After holding the veil of secrecy so long, what did he hope to gain by admitting the truth to Suzaku? It had quickly become apparent, however. He pled with Suzaku to protect Nunnally, to do what he could not now that he was trapped on the path he himself had designed.
Suzaku had challenged him, forcing Lelouch to beg when he'd already agreed to do as much before Nunnally's brother had even picked up the phone. Lelouch took it all, only focused on Suzaku's agreement to protect the sister they both loved. His requirement to meet at the Kururugi Shrine had surprised Aurora. What had Suzaku been intending with this?
Two of the most pivotal figures of the conflict were absent from the beginning of what was hailed as the decisive battle of the Rebellion. They'd been too busy battling each other. Both Lelouch and Suzaku had dressed in their old school uniforms, as if by tacit agreement. Although, neither had been to the Academy in weeks. There had been so much bitterness, so much loss, it had to have been all but impossible to span the gap between them.
It had been ugly, as Aurora guessed. Suzaku had taken his pound of flesh, had let the insults and accusations that had been rotting inside him fly. And, as always, there was the ghost of Euphie. Aurora was reminded of the way Suzaku had taken the attack from Kallen without defense; Lelouch's admission of his sins in desperation for Nunnally was quite similar. Both men were unafraid of punishment; in fact, if they believed they deserved it, they sought it out.
But even that hadn't been enough for Suzaku. Aurora had a hard time deciding if that would have been enough for her, either. And questions of Euphie's unnatural death of course turned to questions of Suzaku's unnatural life. Aurora sensed Lelouch had been lying before Suzaku repeated the question himself. Lelouch had always been a consummate performer, but a poor liar. And those closest to him had usually seen it. Aurora and Nunnally, in particular, had always been good at calling him on a falsehood.
Aurora was impressed with the hand that Suzaku had extended to Lelouch. She wasn't sure if she could have been able to do the same in his place, but it showed why, even at bloody, bitter odds, the two could count on each other. But when he spoke of Scheizel's set up and Lelouch's immediate accusation of betrayal, Aurora had to close her eyes for a moment as the sorrow and regret welled like blood from a small but deep wound.
They had been so close.
But one of Lelouch's famous contingencies wriggled him free from royal custody. As he flew away on a Geassed Guilford's Knightmare, Suzaku knew that they would never really be friends again. Lelouch's ability of Geass had been something Suzaku kept a tight secret, unsure of the ramifications or possibilities of the knowledge. But when faced with Schneizel, there was little he'd been able to do to duck the question, try as he might. Just like his younger brother, and perhaps even better, the second prince always knew the right place the pressure, the weak point to lean on. And what Suzaku had believed to be actions spurred by loyalty and caution were presented as selfishness and cowardice.
"Oh, Kannon," Aurora blurted before could stop herself. "He was always a pretentious ass devoted to Schneizel. The two of them were just pissed they hadn't managed to figure it out on their own, and long before then. Don't let them guilt you into paralysis, Suzaku. You do that enough on your own."
He was shocked for a moment by her interruption. It took him a moment to regain the thread of the tale, rattled by the compassion and impatience that mingled in her voice.
Nina's desperate attempt to take command of the Lancelot only drove home the issue Suzaku had struggled with from the moment of the FLEIJA's introduction to his Knightmare. Could he bear the burden of that decision?
He'd hoped that he could use it as a deterrent. Suzaku sighed heavily.
"Because that always calms everything down. But I was right; nothing would stop Zero at this point." Lelouch had become twisted and cruel, powerless against his own power. Siccing his wretchedly loyal dog on Suzaku, Lelouch had left it to Jeremiah Gottwald to deal with the White Knight. Aurora had kept up with the happenings of Gottwald, but carefully. He'd always been delightfully blind, and rather fun to tease, so starched and desperate for approval. Aurora had cautiously liked him, back when he'd served Marianne. But after the Orange Incident, she had been rather disappointed at the sheer number of screws in his head that had wriggled loose.
When he described Nina's frantic demands to launch the FLEIJA, Aurora's hand balled into a fist. Suzaku seemed understanding of her, if distant and removed. Aurora couldn't make herself feel the same way, her jaw flexing. That mad little girl. What could she know of decisions that determined life or death, or what it felt to have blood stain your hands? Suzaku may have been a soldier, but Aurora had been a spy, and both professions were just as bloody. She had made mistakes, taken contracts that she told herself were in the right. But when she had felt the child in her die at the death of someone that she'd caused, either directly or indirectly, Aurora hadn't been so sure. She understood Suzaku's plight, but Nina? This was exactly why scientists should stay well clear of the front lines.
Suzaku had always fought with Kallen on even footing, and though their Knightmares had been extremely different, they were always well matched. But not in the Second Battle for Tokyo. The Seiten far outstripped the Lancelot, but Suzaku was too ingrained to back down. That, more than anything else, was why he blamed himself for what happened.
He'd wanted to accept his death. It was what he had been striving for years to achieve. But Geass corrupted even that. The only thing Suzaku was aware of was the sight of the warhead hurtling into space before erupting into a cataclysm. None of the other sensations – the way the button had clicked down satisfactorily under his thumb, the smell of sweat and oil and metal in the cockpit, the faint taste of blood in his mouth where he'd bitten his cheek from the jolt of deflecting one of Kallen's attacks, the faint creaking of Lancelot's joints as it fought to remain in the air despite its damage – all receded as the command took over, and he did the unthinkable.
He almost crumbled under the guilt of it. Thirty five million lives taken at his hand, and Nunnally's among them. Yet, he stood in the crater alone. He'd always been alone.
Hysteria had taken him in its sweaty grip, parts of him wrenching free and spinning out of control, destroying him like the blades of a crashing helicopter. He lost his kindness to Nina, and this was the final devolvement. That push of the trigger hurtled Suzaku to the deepest depths of his personal hell, where he was content to stay. Well, Aurora would see about that.
Suzaku hadn't heard until later that Lelouch had been found out by his order, and sentenced to death. It would seem that Rolo, that poor, broken little boy, managed to do the one thing that had mattered to him. He managed to save his big brother.
It was probably the disapproval and disdain of Cecile and Lloyd that caught him most by surprise. He supposed they had seen him change more than anyone, and were disappointed with how far he'd fallen. But he wouldn't succumb to Schneizel's plot. He'd taken the responsibility in his own soul for the disaster; he might as well take it publicly, as well. And like Lelouch, Suzaku spun the disaster to suit his needs. In the end, they were painfully alike, after all.
He'd scented Schneizel's desire for the throne from the moment they'd first met. Suzaku knew that, like him and Lelouch, Schneizel thirsted for power. If he gave him that, then Schneizel would have been forced to grant him the rank of the Knight of One. Aurora had liked Gino from his first introduction to the tale, and although Suzaku probably never made the connection, she could tell that the Knight of Three had been enraptured with the Black Knight ace. Such a star-crossed attraction warmed Aurora's heart.
So it was with him that Aurora internally sided when Suzaku told her of his intention to assassinate the Emperor. Not because she thought it was wrong – she would have kissed him if he'd managed it. But it was wrong for Suzaku. He was more than this; Gino had known it, Lloyd and Cecile had known it, and Aurora knew it. But could she make Suzaku believe it?
Finally, Suzaku's mind accepted that the ends justified the means. He'd gone to Kamine, still and silent inside not from peace, but because everything had been shattered. The fact that he'd managed to make it so long after without giving into some sort of crutch made Aurora grudgingly impressed.
He may have seemed calm as he faced the Emperor, but being caught by surprise by Bismark betrayed the chaos that he was still reeling in. The normal Suzaku would never have fallen for such an ambush. He spoke of Bismark's accusation of his betrayal with quiet calm, but Aurora was furious. What right did that man have to judge Suzaku's actions? What right did he have sit in judgment of Suzaku and find him wanting?
That was why she'd waited.
When Aurora had first found Suzaku, she'd thought to end him. Killing him would be easy, and would no doubt avenge the wrongs he'd committed on the other side of the world, against members of her family that she still harbored love for despite the cruel distance of time and fate. During the drive back to the clinic, before she'd radioed Kendra, she'd considered it.
But she hadn't known, not the full story. So she'd told herself that he had to live to tell the truth. Now that it was unfolding in front of her, Aurora knew that he had to live because of the truth. Because the truth was, he'd hardly lived at all.
He'd almost died at Bismark's hands, even as his command demanded flight, even as the Knight of One flung the harsh truths he was simply too angry to feel. But the bastard had been right about that, Aurora had to admit. Gentleness and compassion had been the best parts of Suzaku. And she'd do everything in her power to see to it that they were once again.
Finally, he'd given into the urgings of his command and ran. Not to survive, but to stop Lelouch before he interfered and ruined everything. They were both careening down the same path of self-destruction to save the world. The question had been, who would get there first?
But well placed mortar fire had sent him tumbling into a crevice, stopping his headlong dash to Lelouch, the prince who walked through flames that threatened to engulf everything. He was rescued by Anya before any further collapse could crush him, and woke to the puzzling presence of his fellow Knight accompanied by C.C.
What followed was a strange experience that even Aurora needed a moment to accept. She'd never been particularly religious, but the idea of C's world certainly challenged much of what she had always thought about the universe she found herself in. When Anya had collapsed, Suzaku had felt stripped to the bone under C.C.'s considering gaze, and her quiet comparison of their thwarted quests for death.
Suzaku's request to enter C's world was expected by both C.C. and Aurora. No, a soldier would never stand by as a battle was waged, a battle where he could make a difference. And there, as the Sword of Akasha threatened to rear its head, he was needed. Needed to jolt Lelouch into action, aid him in the only option he had left. They'd presented each other with the perfect opportunity to gain what they both sought; the death of Emperor Charles zi Britannia. Suzaku had all but forgotten the presence of Marianne until she'd thrown Euphemia in his face.
Their grand scheme to stop time, to halt death, had been a vague, hopeless dream, one a child often grips to. Pathetic that two people of such power clung to it. The Emperor and Marianne may have been seduced by it, but Lelouch and Suzaku had fought too hard, sacrificed too much to allow such an existence to ever come to fruition. It had dawned on Suzaku that the reason Euphie and Shirley had kept their silence about Zero's identity, even as they died when they must have surely known it, was because they'd trusted Zero. They'd trusted Lelouch.
He'd blocked Marianne with pleasure, and had watched the mask of a loving mother slide away and shatter like glass. It was the only time he'd ever truly felt justice; protecting the future Euphie had dreamed of, and doing it at Lelouch's side. It had been truly awesome, watching Lelouch slide on the cloak of power. Instead of seeking it, he'd accepted it. And as a man who'd destroyed his own family, Suzaku understood the burden Lelouch undertook when he erased his parents from existence.
Even then, he hadn't forgiven Lelouch. Aurora knew that Suzaku would never forgive Lelouch, not really.
But there had been other matters to attend to. Aurora had been glued to the Pendragon broadcast, watching with open-mouthed shock as her skinny, pretty older brother took the throne, aided by a righteous, smiling Suzaku. But Aurora's suspicions had been immediately aroused. She rejoiced at the news of Charles' death, but what in the world had Lelouch been plotting? And Suzaku… He'd looked in control, justified. But through the tiniest chink in his armor, she'd seen his self-loathing, his determined march that came at the cost of himself.
These two boys – no, men – had shaken the world to its core, and they only wore their simple school uniforms.
With those two working together, they'd been invincible. Aurora had known it even then.
It had been hard to read his actions at first, but as Suzaku described Lelouch's efforts to wipe away the past, erase all dissenters, and secure his place on the throne, Aurora started piecing it together. Lelouch's Britannia wasn't an empire; it was a dictatorship. The presence of Lloyd and Cecile had been secured by Suzaku. He didn't want them subjected to Lelouch's purge, and he knew they could be trusted.
He admitted that it had been strange, referring to Lelouch with trust and deference after so much time spent questioning and hating him. All for the sake of the Zero Requiem.
Aurora wanted to pounce on those words, that simple phrase that had stuck like a thorn in her mind. But she kept her mouth shut, smiling a little as Suzaku mentioned his appreciation of Lelouch's intent to minimize the legend of Princess Massacre. It was true; few remembered Euphemia today in the glaring infamy of her older brother Lelouch. The Demon Emperor.
But there was one obstacle that couldn't be brushed aside: Schneizel.
The discontent among the remaining members of the Round was to be expected. From the intelligence Aurora was able to gather about the Lancelot Albion, she realized that the greatest warriors of Britannia had never stood a chance. Gino's pained offer of clemency had made Suzaku a little guilty, but he'd come too far now. There was simply no going back. Aurora believed that, utterly. What she didn't agree with was Suzaku's complete inability to move forward.
The Tristan hadn't stood a chance, especially when Suzaku rattled Gino's cage. But the Galahad was another matter. Aurora had managed to catch the transmission at its peak, and had watched mutely as Suzaku triumphed even over the power of Geass. All it had taken was the will – the command – to live.
He hadn't liked Lelouch leaving him behind to attend the UFN conference. Suzaku didn't do well with inaction. But he'd waited, prepped and ready for the slightest signal from his Emperor to spring into action. All past aside, when given the reason for it, Suzaku was an incredibly loyal person. He'd been loyal first to his ideals, then to Euphie. At her loss, he was loyal to his vengeance, then his quest for power. In the end, he was loyal to Lelouch.
Loyal enough to fly into the Ashford Academy's gym like a lightning bolt at his Emperor's claim of the most important ruling trait. Aurora remembered it vaguely. The will to destroy, even oneself. It was all quickly becoming clear, but she remained in rapt silence, listening to this strange, terrible, brilliant plan unfold.
With Suzaku's might, Lelouch had held the UFN representatives hostage. His Britannia became clear; it wasn't one to trifle with. It was one to fear, fear more than the empire of his father. But Schneizel hadn't been waiting patiently. The destruction of Pendragon had rocked Suzaku, but not for the right reasons. The casualties had appalled him, yes, but it also served as a vicious reminder of his own sin with that weapon.
And then, Schneizel had played his ace. Aurora obviously already knew that Nunnally survived, but she couldn't think of a worse way for Lelouch and Suzaku to learn of it. Nunnally had never played chess with her brother, and had never really witnessed Suzaku as a soldier. And Schneizel had always seen Lelouch as an opponent, never as a savior. Since Aurora had neither of these limits to her grasp of the situation, she could see what neither had until it had simply been too late. Struggling against tears, she listened to Suzaku describe the saddest thing of all; the loss of the bond between Lelouch and Nunnally.
He'd sacrificed it, to save her from the guilt. Yes, Nunnally had been the reason Lelouch had become Zero, but he could never tell her that. She was too kind to bear such a burden. Suzaku was too used to moving beyond the loss of the one most important to him to be as affected as Lelouch. That was why he'd been brought into the fold; for his power, yes, and for his strength on the battlefield. But Suzaku's purpose had been to keep Lelouch on track, to keep him focused on the end. No matter the means.
Between his sword and shield, Lelouch had been shaken from his indecision, and embarked on the battle that would change the world. Suzaku had approached it like he had every other; like it was his last. That wasn't true, not then, nor any of the other times he'd launched the Lancelot. But that lie he told himself made him ready to do anything. It heightened his Geass command, and although the odds were incredibly unlikely, he could always lose, despite his best efforts. Even then, he'd still clung to the possibility of death.
He'd known of Lelouch's plan for Mt. Fuji. He's regretted it, even as he'd urged Lelouch to put it into motion. Once again, when his pieces fell, Lelouch activated his plot with the board. All but alone, Suzaku had charged into the fray, cutting through the opposition with ease. But he was only one man, and being split between the forward and rear lines had halved his effectiveness. That didn't stop Suzaku, though. He may not be unstoppable, but they'd have to pry the Lancelot's controls from his cold, dead hands before he gave up the fight. But he'd known it was coming; the moment when the battle would be decided by the Anti-FLEIJA.
Suzaku hadn't witnessed the final, redeeming exchange between Lelouch and Nina, but it had been related to him later. Aurora allowed herself to soften in regard to her, at least a little. Really, all of her felt soft; bruised and sad and resigned. She knew how this would all end, and she now knew why. But that didn't make it any easier for her heart to accept, to hear Suzaku say the words. But she knew, better than most, the power of words. The earth-shattering consequences of lies and truths. So this mattered, and was something the both of them would have to endure.
Even reading the reports of the battle, it was hard to believe that they'd actually achieved it. That Lelouch's incredible mind and Suzaku's relentless skill had neutralized a weapon that had more power than a natural disaster. She was impressed, and miserable. To think that such amazing gifts had been forced to be used that way, that both men were dragged to such a field of battle. She despaired for man, and for Lelouch and Suzaku.
It had given them the chance they'd needed, and Lelouch, Suzaku, and a small force had snuck through the Blaze Luminous of the Damocles. No hiding behind that shield now. His confrontation with Gino was harder than he'd expected. He'd been a friend, and Suzaku regretted the way he'd laid waste to the modified Tristan. But Gino had certainly given him one hell of a fight, and he'd underestimated Gino's final intention.
Kallen had been another matter. On par with the Albion, the only way they would end it was when they'd torn each other apart. Out of respect, they'd allowed a moment to exchange words. But there was too much aggression from the past, too many battles fought without resolution. They crowded the moment, until it erupted into battle. As always, it had come down to the unending argument of their ideological differences. There was really no right or wrong side; only their own side.
He chuckled quietly, bitterly. All of the fancy hardware, all the impressive additions that had made the Lancelot and Guren so special, so unbeatable, were stripped away, and the battle devolved into a brawl. But even using his Geass command, there was no defeating Kallen. As always, their battles were ground into a draw.
Aurora listened intently. She'd been wondering this whole time, since she'd first pulled off his mask; how had Suzaku survived? He'd been ready to back down, to sit in silence as his Lancelot exploded. But his command and the promise he'd made to Lelouch forced him to do otherwise. Kicking open a lower hatch of the cockpit, he'd managed to reach a survivable distance before the Lancelot died, one final time. The explosion had hurled him into the wall of the Damocles, shattering his left wrist and cheekbone, a piece of shrapnel almost impaling him and rupturing a kidney. He'd lain there, drifting with a concussion and several second degree burns along his back and arms as the warmth of his blood gushed out onto the cold metal. He didn't know when those under Lelouch's order had managed to scoop him up, but it was in time to get him into surgery to save his life, repairing his face and wrist in the process.
He'd been under anesthesia when Lelouch had used his Geass on Nunnally, when he'd taken command of the entire world. But Lloyd told him later that when Lelouch had walked away from Nunnally, despite her spilling out of her wheelchair onto the stairs, he'd stiffened and twitched. Fighting his ventilator, it had seemed that even unconscious, Suzaku had felt Lelouch and Nunnally were in pain, and about to enact the final part of the Requiem.
Lloyd and Cecile had attended his fake funeral, though few others did. Milly, Nina, and Rivalz were the only others who knew Suzaku personally who stood in the rain as his empty coffin was lowered into the ground. Lelouch had been too busy to witness his Knight of Zero's burial, not that it had really mattered. Suzaku had still been recovering, and Lloyd had joked that it was too morbid to attend his own funeral.
Healed just enough to complete the final stage of the Zero Requiem, Suzaku dressed in the unfamiliar costume of Zero. He'd stood on that road, his hand trembling lightly on the hilt of the sword. It had been sweltering hot, but his fingers and face had felt cold. If he made a single mistake, then this would have all been for nothing. But could he do it? Could he do what Lelouch and he had agreed to, what his Emperor commanded?
Lelouch had certainly acted the part. Aurora could remember the surprised and dismayed expression on his face when he'd caught sight of that purple and black mask. What she now knew to be Suzaku had swiftly outpaced the Knightmare's fire. He hadn't allowed himself a moment to look at the faces he'd passed, the shock and belief, the suspicion and hope. He'd caught a glance of Kallen out of the corner of his eye, and thought that, maybe, she'd understood.
When he'd closed in on Lelouch, Aurora could remember not knowing what she hoped would happen as she'd watched, frozen and wide-eyed. Zero's aim was obviously assassination, and the Demon Emperor deserved it. But what about Lelouch?
They'd put on a show for the world, and the world had believed it. His sword had been straight and sure, but Suzaku's hands had been numbed as he'd thrust the sword through the ribcage of his friend. His enemy. His emperor.
He hadn't been sure what he'd expected to feel, but it hadn't been this incredible, rending grief and regret. This was what Lelouch had wanted, what Suzaku had wanted. But the price had been so incredibly dear. Aurora was unaware of the tears dripping off her chin, her heart crying out against Lelouch's last command to Suzaku. To sacrifice his ordinary, wonderful life to always be a Knight of Justice, to always be Zero.
"It was my punishment, and I was glad to accept it. After all, any chance I had at that kind of life had long, long ago been killed."
Aurora wanted to jump up, to scream at him. It didn't have to be that way! He could have that; he deserved that! But that sad, accepting smile on Suzaku's face warned her that it was too soon. He couldn't hear those words, he wouldn't.
One last time, the two of them achieved the impossible. They destroyed an evil Emperor, united the world in the hope of moving forward, and saved so many who had been so loyal and so strong. Schneizel had said it also; world peace against a single life. Was there really any comparison?
She remembered the stripes of Lelouch's blood on Suzaku's mask, remembered the way the new Zero had pointed his sword, as if directing Lelouch. Directing him right to Nunnally. Nunnally had told Suzaku later that a single touch of Lelouch's hand had made everything clear. And there had been nothing Suzaku could do to stop her pained sobbing as her brother bled out in front of her. After all, it was all his fault.
"Your brother died a hero, Aurora. He sacrificed his life for the world, and though he can never be publicly recognized, those of us who know the truth will always be indebted to him. Every great thing that has happened in these last few years have all been thanks to Lelouch's sacrifice. He was the man who held the world in his hand, and gave it back to the people." He spoke with righteous conviction, and Aurora could see that it was this thought that had supported him through much of his own darkness after Lelouch's death. But even that had faltered eventually.
And what about Suzaku? The world thought he was a dead traitor. Only a few select people knew that he was Zero, Kallen among them. Todoh, Cornelia, and Kaguya had all dropped some subtle hint over the past few years that confirmed their knowledge of his true identity. But none of them had said anything.
Suzaku was left with nothing after all he'd done. All he'd won, all he'd achieved, all he'd sacrificed, he was left with nothing but an empty mask and a broken existence. Orders and repentance weren't enough; if they were, he wouldn't be here. He was dying under this weight of penitence and sorrow. Aurora decided, with a fiery finality, that she wouldn't stand for it.
Like several of her siblings, Aurora couldn't tolerate injustice. But she resembled Lelouch in her unswerving determination to reverse it.
Night had fallen, and if she was exhausted, then Suzaku must be crippled with the need for sleep. She bid him a quiet goodnight, walking out of the room with Bannock on her heels. She didn't think she could say anything to him right now, and he must be tired of talking. Aurora made her way outside, where the moon slipped over the horizon and shone like a pearl, the trees dappling the ground with their shade. Plunking down beneath an oak some distance from the house, Aurora pulled her knees against her chest, wrapping her arms around them.
She drew a deep breath in, then out.
Burying her face into her kneecaps, she sobbed like something inside her was broken. She cried for all of them. For the cycle of violence which had only ended when someone incredible was lost, and those left in the wake had only truth to battle their pain. She'd wanted to know; she'd needed to know. But she hadn't thought it would hurt like this, so fresh and cutting. Aurora had watched Lelouch die. There could have been only one conclusion to Suzaku's story. But the reason he'd died almost made it worse.
"So, Lelouch," she whispered into the dark, her voice broken by the sobs. "You really were one of the best of us, after all." She cried long after she'd used all her tears. When she finally emerged from the haze of grief, Ban tucked against her side and the light in Suzaku's window extinguished, Aurora took shakily to her feet.
Lelouch was gone, lost to the flow of time. Nothing, not even their love of him, could bring him back. But Suzaku was still here, and if anyone had been so slighted by fate, it was him. She mourned for her brother, but she was determined to fight for his friend.
It was the least he deserved.
Whoo. Even breaking off the previous chapter, this thing is huge. I couldn't really justify splitting it again, and I didn't really want to. So here is Suzaku's pov of R2. I embellished a few things, but about 98% is taken directly from the series. And, yes, I cried like an infant during Re;. Again.
It's probably pretty apparent that I didn't care for Nina. She drove me freakin' crazy, and pissed me off on multiple occasions. Honestly, I had forgotten a lot of the finer details of the series, and Jeremiah's Geass Canceller really freaked me out for a while there, worried that he was going to destroy a huge aspect of my story. But I remembered, and we were OK.
Has my opinion of Suzaku changed at all watching it again with Phoenix in the works? Not at all. If anything, it makes me more sympathetic. Besides informing Aurora, this recap serves to remind the audience of how much Suzaku suffered in such a short period of time. Here's a reference: he met Euphemia in August. She died in September. Didn't seem like it at the time, did it? Besides the year long break that upped their ages, everything that happened was jam-packed into weeks, or maybe months at a time. We don't really get that sense while watching the series, since Lelouch is obviously the focus. But when you edit that out, it's pretty much more than a human could possibly stand. Hence, my story and drive.
I'm sure this has bored many of you, but I've rather enjoyed it. It's actually quite fun, trying to look at the series from a unique perspective and add my own elements that add something both to the telling and to Aurora and Suzaku. But it's over now. From here on out, it's original storylines. Tally-ho!
Hope you like it!
Love, Tango