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Entry tags:
falling for the first time;
Summary: During the time period after Lelouch's mind was wiped, Suzaku was in charge of taking care of him temporarily--to his grief and guilt.
Lelouch cooks dinner for the both of them.
“Ah, Suzaku,” he said, turning around as Suzaku entered the kitchen. Lelouch looked strangely natural in the purple apron, holding a boiling pot with worn green cooking mitts. His smile was as honest as it had ever been, and the smell of spaghetti wafted in the air, a rather simple meal despite the many burnt cookbooks lying around the corners.
Suzaku felt like he was going to die.
“Another simple meal?” he teased too casually. “What happened to your five-course plan?”
Lelouch, for once, was unruffled and sweet. “Not everything goes according to plan,” he said, smiling at Suzaku before returning the pot to the stove. He bent down to check on the meat in the oven, his face convulted in thought for the meat roast over-burning, and not the deaths of many innocents. .
Not everything went according to plan.
Suzaku stared at Lelouch intensely, but sensing no sign of danger, he allowed himself to take off his jacket and loop it over the chair. The entire apartment was very sparse, despite its original lavish furnishing. Suzaku was not even the one who bought the painting which hung in the living room, nor did he usually go into there. Nowadays, he did, though, to check on Lelouch watching a cartoon or a drama. He would have still been unfamiliar with his house if not for Lelouch.
“Suzaku, are you paying attention?” Lelouch was saying. “Go set the dinner table.”
“Ah!” Suzaku snapped out of his thought, but Lelouch was already gathering the plates and utensils, placing them on the counter.
“At least carry them out.” Lelouch gave him a rueful smile. “Honestly, Suzaku. Do I have to take care of you for everything?”
“Ri-right.” Suzaku began to take the items, loading them into his arms awkwardly. “Lelouch, there are three plates.”
Lelouch had a blank look on his face, half-turned to take care of the spaghetti again. Smoke boiled behind him. “Yes?”
“We’re only two people.”
“Ah!” Lelouch blinked in surprise. A confused, muddled look fell upon his face. Suzaku waited for a response, for an exclamation, for a proclamation, for a look of horror, for Lelouch to suddenly break down and scream for the person who was not there, the most important person to his heart.
Lelouch smiled. “Ah, yes.”
Suzaku was going to die.
--
Lloyd was a very cunning man, but he had no respect for anything but robots and Cecil. Today he dangled from the ledge to examine the robot, half-bemused look permanently on his face, though he was inches away from death. Suzaku uneasily stood below for a moment, as if wanting to catch Lloyd before the fall, but Cecil was already waving him in.
“You shouldn’t come so often,” she said, smiling at him. “Isn’t your assignment at home?”
“But I have to keep in shape,” he started, blinking in surprise. But she only giggled and returned to her paperwork, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.
“I know, Suzaku. You’re not one to shirk your work.” He was silent for a while. Not one to shirk his work. That was why he was doing it. Personal things no longer mattered to him, and he was a Knight of the Round. The meetings, though, had the same cold and calculating tinge in his mouth.
“Suuuu-zaaaa-kuuuu!” Lloyd swept down on him, grinning in his strange bird-like way. As usual, his white lab jacket was clean of any oils or messes. “How is our little bird, hmm?”
“He’s fine,” Suzaku said, slightly deterred. “The file reports are—“
“Cecil, where are the readings?” Lloyd said, turning his attention away. Cecil ruffled through her papers before extending a sheath to him, which he snatched away and twirled onwards, like a ballerina, back to the hulking Lancelot. Its white face stared out at Suzaku, green eyes judgmental.
“Don’t mind him,” Cecil was saying, “He’s just a little mad at you lately.” She had the smile of a patient baby-sitter.
“Mad?”
She hesitated for too long. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Suzaku.”
--
They considered him a traitor. He had done the right thing, and they still called him a traitor. Even Lancelot looked angrily out at him. They said he was a hero, but their eyes were different. Suzaku tried to tell himself that he was only imagining things, but Kallen’s eyes were hard to argue.
He unlocked the door and peered into the dark room. He sharpened his senses, checking the ceiling to the walls for traps or listening devices. The security guards gave him no relief. He disliked leaving his apartment, even if he locked the door every morning.
The living room had bleary lights, so he cautiously inched towards there, hand resting on his gun. He had killed before. He would do it again.
Or, perhaps, he had already killed Lelouch once.
“Oh, Suzaku,” Lelouch said. “You’re home.” The room was dark, save for the flickering television, which was on a typical love romance drama that the old Lelouch would have never watched. A woman confessed her love under the sakura blossoms. Suzaku slowly relaxed.
“You should turn on the lights,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and jovial. He peered at the switch for any electronic devices. Sensing none, he flipped them on. Nothing exploded, and he gave another cautionary glance around the room.
“You’re such a mother,” Lelouch smiled. He rested on the couch.
Lelouch was the traitor. He was Zero! He had attended school with his fake grin and false smiles, when in reality, he was corrupting the world. There was no excuse. He had killed Euphie—his precious Euphie—his lovely Euphie—pink hair streaming behind her—
“Suzaku? Is something wrong?”
“Ah! No, I was just thinking.” Suzaku tossed his jacket on the chair, and glanced up at the painting of the woman sitting in a boat, on a lake. It was a nice painting, by some rich Britannian who had little talent but a glamorous reputation. He hadn’t realized he owned it.
“How was work?”
Was this a probing question? Trying to figure out the secrets of the Empire through him? Suzaku gave a shrug. “Same as always.”
Lelouch did not seem disappointed. “Don’t work yourself too hard.” Was this a statement trying to relax Suzaku’s guard?
“Was there anything interesting on TV?” Suzaku sat next to Lelouch. He was wearing a mixture of white and black, a suit that fit his slim form, but made him look even frailer. Lelouch had always been frail, but his back had seemed so strong when he had carried Nunnally through the carnage—
“A suicide.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“The times are changing,” Lelouch said, something that the old Lelouch would never say.
“What makes you say that?”
“It was a death of an Eleven,” Lelouch said, “apparently from the drug, Refrain.”
Suzaku remembered it, faintly, in the reports. But it hadn’t been in his jurisdiction. Ever since he became a Knight of the Round, not many things were in his jurisdiction. Now he took care of things on a state basis, not of providence.
“What did you think about it?” he asked cautiously.
Lelouch shrugged. “Someone must be driven into a corner to take the drug,” he said, a very bland answer. But there was something in his eye that made Suzaku pay more attention. “When there’s no escape, and too much pain.”
Had Lelouch ever taken Refrain? Suzaku felt like he should grab Lelouch’s arm and check, but they were no longer friends, and it did not matter to him. Besides, Lelouch wasn’t the type to even consider it. And they were no longer friends.
“It seems wasteful.”
“The Refrain?”
“The suicide.” Lelouch stared blandly at the love drama. “People’s lives are worth more than any monetary value.”
Suzaku barely held his tongue. Then why did you kill Euphie, Lelouch? Why did you kill so many people? Why do you use people as pawns? Was Shirley’s father’s death just another checkmate for you, Lelouch? Does the massacre left, smeared in Euphie’s name, mean nothing to you, Lelouch?
“If I had to commit suicide,” Lelouch was saying, “It would mean something.”
Suzaku gripped his fists. Was Euphie’s death another pawn to you, Lelouch--?
“I would make sure it changed something.” Lelouch suddenly looked tired and worn out, darkness under his eyes. His skin was pale and Suzaku wondered if he was healthy. “That is what my death would be.”
“You’re not planning to commit suicide soon, are you?” Suzaku asked, smiling a bit in a joking way.
“. . . No.”
Suzaku disliked the hesitancy before the answer.
--
When he requested special permission at the office to take Lelouch out for a travel, Gino caught him along the way. Gino was also a Knight of Round, and an admirable one at that. Anya, too, trailed behind him, clicking away at her electronic device. Suzaku felt mildly uncomfortable with both.
“It’s the new Knight of Round! Suzaku, right?” Gino smiled in his face. His hair swung to and fro. “Where are you going?”
“Just—“
Gino was already pulling the papers out of his hands, despite Suzaku’s protests. He flipped through the papers carelessly. “Requesting to take Zero out for a walk? Why would you do that?”
“His mental conditions are—“
“Don’t be so straight-laced! Were you always like this?” Suzaku did not know. “Anyway, he gets what he gets, right?”
Lelouch had struggled his arm, trussled up without dignity. That was all he had on that day, he once told Suzaku, curled up under a leafy frond when the rain had not stopped, and Nunnally had been asleep. He was armed with only dignity to face his father. But when Suzaku had brought Lelouch to the emperor, he had screamed and struggled, frantic fear written on his face, and his eyes were not emblazoned with the Geass, but with only one word—traitor.
And then he had died, and became the New Lelouch.
Suzaku wondered if this was all right.
--
Lelouch wore an overshadowed hat and winced under the sunlight. The guards were stationed at random points, but he did not seem capable of even locating one. Or that he was too tricky to do so. Suzaku felt the gun against his hip.
“It’s nice to see the sun,” Lelouch said, breathing heavily. His days indoors had only worsened his health. He clutched at his cap to shield his face, somewhat puzzled by the outside world.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Maybe rest somewhere a while,” Lelouch huffed.
“All right.”
The mall, as expected, was boring, though Lelouch glanced through some clothes. They ate at a small restaurant, and then watched a street performance by the fountain, which Suzaku obligingly tossed some coins, though the performance itself was not very good. It had been a puppet show about a man who betrayed his family honor for a larger cause. It rung too many bells for him.
“What did you think of it?” Lelouch asked.
“I’m glad he died in the end,” Suzaku said, though he wasn’t sure why his acting with Lelouch had slipped into normalcy once more. But they weren’t friends anymore. “He betrayed his family.”
Lelouch laughed. “Just like you, Suzaku.”
“Do you think differently?” His expression must have been innocent, because Lelouch laughed again. “What? What is it?”
“Nothing you do is worthless,” Lelouch merely said, “as long as you try.”
“But he betrayed them—!” Suzaku felt enraged. “He was a traitor! He deserved his death!” That day that Lelouch died in his arms, he wondered if his death was coming soon. But the cursed Geass kept him alive, kept his senses alive.
“I watched a cartoon last night,” Lelouch said. “One of the new anime that came out. The one with the robots, the funny one.” He had the arrogant smile on his lips, and Suzaku clenched his fists. The man who had killed Euphie stood in front of him, but he had to stay put.
“One of the villains was a very evil man. He did many bad things,” Lelouch said. “But wouldn’t it be sad if you realized that he knew that he was doing terrible things? That he was equally hurting himself for every action he did?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I suppose.” Lelouch smiled.
--
Gino said they were going on a mission to kill a village.
“Suspected treason.”
“Do we know for—“
“We’re not supposed to ask.”
“We are Knights of the Round!” Suzaku slammed his fist against the wall.
“It’s a title.” Gino looked up at Lancelot admiringly. “You can’t forget that it’s a title, too, Suzaku. Only certain powers come with—“
“I’ll go ask.” Suzaku turned around, but found himself being slammed into the wall. Gino was pinning him down, eyes sadly looking down at him.
“Suzaku,” he said. “Normally you’d have the power to ask. But this is a mission directly from the Emperor.” Suzaku hated how close Gino was to him, how his breath rolled down his neck. “Only the Knight of One may ask. And neither of us are.”
Gino released with a smile and an apology, and they went to destroy the village, but Suzaku gripped Lancelot a little tighter that mission, and even Gino was less talkative.
Wouldn’t it be sad if you realized that he knew that he was doing terrible things? That he was equally hurting himself for every action he did?
--
Lelouch’s failed five-course meal was put in the fridge, and they watched television while eating bread instead. Lelouch was sulking at Suzaku’s teasing, and Suzaku was too tired to be suspicious. His entire apartment was empty, echoing, with no dust on the furniture. The little red camera watched them, and recorded all.
“Perhaps I should return to school,” Lelouch said.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” Suzaku said.
“It’s boring,” he said, “But so many things are.”
“Even cooking?”
Lelouch did not answer to that.
Suzaku knew their time was running up. That it was only a matter of days before the final stamp of approval unraveled the red tape, and Lelouch was free to return to school once more. They had a new boy to cover him, since Suzaku himself was busy with Knighthood. Rolo, it seemed. A dangerous assassin.
For some reason, he didn’t feel comforted.
“You can always return here,” Suzaku said, and the moment his words left his mouth, he could barley understand himself. They were not friends any longer. He should have taken back the offer.
“A warm welcome, I’m sure,” Lelouch said dryly. He stood up, and stretched. “I’ll take a brief shower, then.”
“Ah.” Suzaku sat in front of the television.
“You don’t look so well,” Lelouch said. “Have you been overworking yourself?” Paranoia settled into his mind, but he could only look at Lelouch’s pale face, and watchfully at the dark bags under his eyes.
“The same to you,” Suzaku said weakly, “Have you been sleeping well?”
“Sometimes . . . “ Lelouch put his hand to his head, and Suzaku was chilled for a moment. It almost looked like he was placing a gun to his head. “Sometimes I have dreams. I can’t remember them, though. Perhaps . . . a girl . . . “
“A girl?”
“. . . It’s strange.” Lelouch shook his head. “But dreams are only dreams.” With a flick of his hand, he waved away his past, his heart, his love. “Good night, Suzaku.”
“Good night.”
Because of Lelouch’s nature, Suzaku stood by the shower. For some reason, he was the one who felt the most shamed, shoulders trembling from agony.
--
The screams of the villagers woke up Suzaku in the middle of the night. He could still feel Lancelot pulsing underneath his hands, and he trembled in his bed, sweating heavily. Swinging his feet recklessly, he threw off the sheets and opened the window until a fresh breeze hit his face, and he sank to his knees.
--
Another evening, another television show. Suzaku ate his dinner at the dining table, and then joined Lelouch on the couch once again, watching the animations tensely. Every once in a while, he would look at Lelouch almost curiously.
“Sometimes it feels like someone is watching us,” Lelouch said. “You have a lot of enemies, Suzaku. You should take better precautions.”
Was it a threat? Was Lelouch insinuating that he already knew about the guards? Suzaku opened the morning newspaper, and tried to change the subject lightly.
“Don’t worry, I have it covered,” he said glibly. “Have you read the newspaper today?”
“I watched the news in the morning,” Lelouch said. “There was a news article about an execution.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“A man punished for his crime. It seems simple,” Lelouch said.
“Yeah.” Suzaku closed his newspaper.
“If only it was always like that,” Lelouch said, “Not the executions, per se. But for every criminal to be punished—to have an ideal world.”
“Ideal world?” It sounded like Zero. Suzaku slowly put down his newspaper, gripping the butt of his gun uneasily. He swallowed slightly.
“Then again, the crime can be considered the punishment. After all, crimes are only wrongs of society. A moral criminal should feel guilt from pressure alone.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Suzaku said, keeping his voice level.
“Yes,” Lelouch said. “If only all criminals were moral, there would be no criminals. But that, in itself, is only a theory. No, criminals are only those who change the world.”
“That’s what you’d like to think.”
“Suzaku?”
The roar of the villagers came again into his ears, pounding against his heart. And he could see the burning houses, and the people thrashing on the ground, and if he looked up at the sky, he could see only smoke, but he did not question, because he would serve justice and justice only.
“You were never punished,” Suzaku said, voice barely controlled. “You got off—free—“
“Punished? For what?”
And he had taken that gun and shot his father, so long ago, though his hands were small and he had trembled with his entire being, he still pulled the trigger to empty the bullet into his father, and he felt like screaming until his lungs were raw
And so he smashed Lelouch’s face with his fist.
He continued to pound, recklessly, densely. Because they were different, he and Lelouch, because Lelouch had the sharp intelligence, but his body was only so frail, and Suzaku could punch and punch and punch at the bone and skin and blood splurted into his fist until even he felt his energy was running low and
Euphie’s pink hair trailed behind her
“I thought we were friends!” he screamed. “I thought we were friends, so why—“
and it was a glimpse into either the future or the past, he didn’t remember, but he could see Lelouch’s injured look, and the very same words coming from his mouth
I thought we were friends
When Nunnally was taken away
“Suzaku?” Lelouch breathed, though his eye was swollen, and he twitched under Suzaku’s grasp. They were both on the floor now, but Suzaku was sitting up, and the television flickered against him.
“We’re the same,” Suzaku said, and tried to wipe away his tears. “We’re exactly the same.”
So when Lelouch’s memories had been wiped away, and he had died
Hadn’t Suzaku died
too
Lelouch cooks dinner for the both of them.
“Ah, Suzaku,” he said, turning around as Suzaku entered the kitchen. Lelouch looked strangely natural in the purple apron, holding a boiling pot with worn green cooking mitts. His smile was as honest as it had ever been, and the smell of spaghetti wafted in the air, a rather simple meal despite the many burnt cookbooks lying around the corners.
Suzaku felt like he was going to die.
“Another simple meal?” he teased too casually. “What happened to your five-course plan?”
Lelouch, for once, was unruffled and sweet. “Not everything goes according to plan,” he said, smiling at Suzaku before returning the pot to the stove. He bent down to check on the meat in the oven, his face convulted in thought for the meat roast over-burning, and not the deaths of many innocents. .
Not everything went according to plan.
Suzaku stared at Lelouch intensely, but sensing no sign of danger, he allowed himself to take off his jacket and loop it over the chair. The entire apartment was very sparse, despite its original lavish furnishing. Suzaku was not even the one who bought the painting which hung in the living room, nor did he usually go into there. Nowadays, he did, though, to check on Lelouch watching a cartoon or a drama. He would have still been unfamiliar with his house if not for Lelouch.
“Suzaku, are you paying attention?” Lelouch was saying. “Go set the dinner table.”
“Ah!” Suzaku snapped out of his thought, but Lelouch was already gathering the plates and utensils, placing them on the counter.
“At least carry them out.” Lelouch gave him a rueful smile. “Honestly, Suzaku. Do I have to take care of you for everything?”
“Ri-right.” Suzaku began to take the items, loading them into his arms awkwardly. “Lelouch, there are three plates.”
Lelouch had a blank look on his face, half-turned to take care of the spaghetti again. Smoke boiled behind him. “Yes?”
“We’re only two people.”
“Ah!” Lelouch blinked in surprise. A confused, muddled look fell upon his face. Suzaku waited for a response, for an exclamation, for a proclamation, for a look of horror, for Lelouch to suddenly break down and scream for the person who was not there, the most important person to his heart.
Lelouch smiled. “Ah, yes.”
Suzaku was going to die.
--
Lloyd was a very cunning man, but he had no respect for anything but robots and Cecil. Today he dangled from the ledge to examine the robot, half-bemused look permanently on his face, though he was inches away from death. Suzaku uneasily stood below for a moment, as if wanting to catch Lloyd before the fall, but Cecil was already waving him in.
“You shouldn’t come so often,” she said, smiling at him. “Isn’t your assignment at home?”
“But I have to keep in shape,” he started, blinking in surprise. But she only giggled and returned to her paperwork, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.
“I know, Suzaku. You’re not one to shirk your work.” He was silent for a while. Not one to shirk his work. That was why he was doing it. Personal things no longer mattered to him, and he was a Knight of the Round. The meetings, though, had the same cold and calculating tinge in his mouth.
“Suuuu-zaaaa-kuuuu!” Lloyd swept down on him, grinning in his strange bird-like way. As usual, his white lab jacket was clean of any oils or messes. “How is our little bird, hmm?”
“He’s fine,” Suzaku said, slightly deterred. “The file reports are—“
“Cecil, where are the readings?” Lloyd said, turning his attention away. Cecil ruffled through her papers before extending a sheath to him, which he snatched away and twirled onwards, like a ballerina, back to the hulking Lancelot. Its white face stared out at Suzaku, green eyes judgmental.
“Don’t mind him,” Cecil was saying, “He’s just a little mad at you lately.” She had the smile of a patient baby-sitter.
“Mad?”
She hesitated for too long. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Suzaku.”
--
They considered him a traitor. He had done the right thing, and they still called him a traitor. Even Lancelot looked angrily out at him. They said he was a hero, but their eyes were different. Suzaku tried to tell himself that he was only imagining things, but Kallen’s eyes were hard to argue.
He unlocked the door and peered into the dark room. He sharpened his senses, checking the ceiling to the walls for traps or listening devices. The security guards gave him no relief. He disliked leaving his apartment, even if he locked the door every morning.
The living room had bleary lights, so he cautiously inched towards there, hand resting on his gun. He had killed before. He would do it again.
Or, perhaps, he had already killed Lelouch once.
“Oh, Suzaku,” Lelouch said. “You’re home.” The room was dark, save for the flickering television, which was on a typical love romance drama that the old Lelouch would have never watched. A woman confessed her love under the sakura blossoms. Suzaku slowly relaxed.
“You should turn on the lights,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and jovial. He peered at the switch for any electronic devices. Sensing none, he flipped them on. Nothing exploded, and he gave another cautionary glance around the room.
“You’re such a mother,” Lelouch smiled. He rested on the couch.
Lelouch was the traitor. He was Zero! He had attended school with his fake grin and false smiles, when in reality, he was corrupting the world. There was no excuse. He had killed Euphie—his precious Euphie—his lovely Euphie—pink hair streaming behind her—
“Suzaku? Is something wrong?”
“Ah! No, I was just thinking.” Suzaku tossed his jacket on the chair, and glanced up at the painting of the woman sitting in a boat, on a lake. It was a nice painting, by some rich Britannian who had little talent but a glamorous reputation. He hadn’t realized he owned it.
“How was work?”
Was this a probing question? Trying to figure out the secrets of the Empire through him? Suzaku gave a shrug. “Same as always.”
Lelouch did not seem disappointed. “Don’t work yourself too hard.” Was this a statement trying to relax Suzaku’s guard?
“Was there anything interesting on TV?” Suzaku sat next to Lelouch. He was wearing a mixture of white and black, a suit that fit his slim form, but made him look even frailer. Lelouch had always been frail, but his back had seemed so strong when he had carried Nunnally through the carnage—
“A suicide.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“The times are changing,” Lelouch said, something that the old Lelouch would never say.
“What makes you say that?”
“It was a death of an Eleven,” Lelouch said, “apparently from the drug, Refrain.”
Suzaku remembered it, faintly, in the reports. But it hadn’t been in his jurisdiction. Ever since he became a Knight of the Round, not many things were in his jurisdiction. Now he took care of things on a state basis, not of providence.
“What did you think about it?” he asked cautiously.
Lelouch shrugged. “Someone must be driven into a corner to take the drug,” he said, a very bland answer. But there was something in his eye that made Suzaku pay more attention. “When there’s no escape, and too much pain.”
Had Lelouch ever taken Refrain? Suzaku felt like he should grab Lelouch’s arm and check, but they were no longer friends, and it did not matter to him. Besides, Lelouch wasn’t the type to even consider it. And they were no longer friends.
“It seems wasteful.”
“The Refrain?”
“The suicide.” Lelouch stared blandly at the love drama. “People’s lives are worth more than any monetary value.”
Suzaku barely held his tongue. Then why did you kill Euphie, Lelouch? Why did you kill so many people? Why do you use people as pawns? Was Shirley’s father’s death just another checkmate for you, Lelouch? Does the massacre left, smeared in Euphie’s name, mean nothing to you, Lelouch?
“If I had to commit suicide,” Lelouch was saying, “It would mean something.”
Suzaku gripped his fists. Was Euphie’s death another pawn to you, Lelouch--?
“I would make sure it changed something.” Lelouch suddenly looked tired and worn out, darkness under his eyes. His skin was pale and Suzaku wondered if he was healthy. “That is what my death would be.”
“You’re not planning to commit suicide soon, are you?” Suzaku asked, smiling a bit in a joking way.
“. . . No.”
Suzaku disliked the hesitancy before the answer.
--
When he requested special permission at the office to take Lelouch out for a travel, Gino caught him along the way. Gino was also a Knight of Round, and an admirable one at that. Anya, too, trailed behind him, clicking away at her electronic device. Suzaku felt mildly uncomfortable with both.
“It’s the new Knight of Round! Suzaku, right?” Gino smiled in his face. His hair swung to and fro. “Where are you going?”
“Just—“
Gino was already pulling the papers out of his hands, despite Suzaku’s protests. He flipped through the papers carelessly. “Requesting to take Zero out for a walk? Why would you do that?”
“His mental conditions are—“
“Don’t be so straight-laced! Were you always like this?” Suzaku did not know. “Anyway, he gets what he gets, right?”
Lelouch had struggled his arm, trussled up without dignity. That was all he had on that day, he once told Suzaku, curled up under a leafy frond when the rain had not stopped, and Nunnally had been asleep. He was armed with only dignity to face his father. But when Suzaku had brought Lelouch to the emperor, he had screamed and struggled, frantic fear written on his face, and his eyes were not emblazoned with the Geass, but with only one word—traitor.
And then he had died, and became the New Lelouch.
Suzaku wondered if this was all right.
--
Lelouch wore an overshadowed hat and winced under the sunlight. The guards were stationed at random points, but he did not seem capable of even locating one. Or that he was too tricky to do so. Suzaku felt the gun against his hip.
“It’s nice to see the sun,” Lelouch said, breathing heavily. His days indoors had only worsened his health. He clutched at his cap to shield his face, somewhat puzzled by the outside world.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Maybe rest somewhere a while,” Lelouch huffed.
“All right.”
The mall, as expected, was boring, though Lelouch glanced through some clothes. They ate at a small restaurant, and then watched a street performance by the fountain, which Suzaku obligingly tossed some coins, though the performance itself was not very good. It had been a puppet show about a man who betrayed his family honor for a larger cause. It rung too many bells for him.
“What did you think of it?” Lelouch asked.
“I’m glad he died in the end,” Suzaku said, though he wasn’t sure why his acting with Lelouch had slipped into normalcy once more. But they weren’t friends anymore. “He betrayed his family.”
Lelouch laughed. “Just like you, Suzaku.”
“Do you think differently?” His expression must have been innocent, because Lelouch laughed again. “What? What is it?”
“Nothing you do is worthless,” Lelouch merely said, “as long as you try.”
“But he betrayed them—!” Suzaku felt enraged. “He was a traitor! He deserved his death!” That day that Lelouch died in his arms, he wondered if his death was coming soon. But the cursed Geass kept him alive, kept his senses alive.
“I watched a cartoon last night,” Lelouch said. “One of the new anime that came out. The one with the robots, the funny one.” He had the arrogant smile on his lips, and Suzaku clenched his fists. The man who had killed Euphie stood in front of him, but he had to stay put.
“One of the villains was a very evil man. He did many bad things,” Lelouch said. “But wouldn’t it be sad if you realized that he knew that he was doing terrible things? That he was equally hurting himself for every action he did?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I suppose.” Lelouch smiled.
--
Gino said they were going on a mission to kill a village.
“Suspected treason.”
“Do we know for—“
“We’re not supposed to ask.”
“We are Knights of the Round!” Suzaku slammed his fist against the wall.
“It’s a title.” Gino looked up at Lancelot admiringly. “You can’t forget that it’s a title, too, Suzaku. Only certain powers come with—“
“I’ll go ask.” Suzaku turned around, but found himself being slammed into the wall. Gino was pinning him down, eyes sadly looking down at him.
“Suzaku,” he said. “Normally you’d have the power to ask. But this is a mission directly from the Emperor.” Suzaku hated how close Gino was to him, how his breath rolled down his neck. “Only the Knight of One may ask. And neither of us are.”
Gino released with a smile and an apology, and they went to destroy the village, but Suzaku gripped Lancelot a little tighter that mission, and even Gino was less talkative.
Wouldn’t it be sad if you realized that he knew that he was doing terrible things? That he was equally hurting himself for every action he did?
--
Lelouch’s failed five-course meal was put in the fridge, and they watched television while eating bread instead. Lelouch was sulking at Suzaku’s teasing, and Suzaku was too tired to be suspicious. His entire apartment was empty, echoing, with no dust on the furniture. The little red camera watched them, and recorded all.
“Perhaps I should return to school,” Lelouch said.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” Suzaku said.
“It’s boring,” he said, “But so many things are.”
“Even cooking?”
Lelouch did not answer to that.
Suzaku knew their time was running up. That it was only a matter of days before the final stamp of approval unraveled the red tape, and Lelouch was free to return to school once more. They had a new boy to cover him, since Suzaku himself was busy with Knighthood. Rolo, it seemed. A dangerous assassin.
For some reason, he didn’t feel comforted.
“You can always return here,” Suzaku said, and the moment his words left his mouth, he could barley understand himself. They were not friends any longer. He should have taken back the offer.
“A warm welcome, I’m sure,” Lelouch said dryly. He stood up, and stretched. “I’ll take a brief shower, then.”
“Ah.” Suzaku sat in front of the television.
“You don’t look so well,” Lelouch said. “Have you been overworking yourself?” Paranoia settled into his mind, but he could only look at Lelouch’s pale face, and watchfully at the dark bags under his eyes.
“The same to you,” Suzaku said weakly, “Have you been sleeping well?”
“Sometimes . . . “ Lelouch put his hand to his head, and Suzaku was chilled for a moment. It almost looked like he was placing a gun to his head. “Sometimes I have dreams. I can’t remember them, though. Perhaps . . . a girl . . . “
“A girl?”
“. . . It’s strange.” Lelouch shook his head. “But dreams are only dreams.” With a flick of his hand, he waved away his past, his heart, his love. “Good night, Suzaku.”
“Good night.”
Because of Lelouch’s nature, Suzaku stood by the shower. For some reason, he was the one who felt the most shamed, shoulders trembling from agony.
--
The screams of the villagers woke up Suzaku in the middle of the night. He could still feel Lancelot pulsing underneath his hands, and he trembled in his bed, sweating heavily. Swinging his feet recklessly, he threw off the sheets and opened the window until a fresh breeze hit his face, and he sank to his knees.
--
Another evening, another television show. Suzaku ate his dinner at the dining table, and then joined Lelouch on the couch once again, watching the animations tensely. Every once in a while, he would look at Lelouch almost curiously.
“Sometimes it feels like someone is watching us,” Lelouch said. “You have a lot of enemies, Suzaku. You should take better precautions.”
Was it a threat? Was Lelouch insinuating that he already knew about the guards? Suzaku opened the morning newspaper, and tried to change the subject lightly.
“Don’t worry, I have it covered,” he said glibly. “Have you read the newspaper today?”
“I watched the news in the morning,” Lelouch said. “There was a news article about an execution.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“A man punished for his crime. It seems simple,” Lelouch said.
“Yeah.” Suzaku closed his newspaper.
“If only it was always like that,” Lelouch said, “Not the executions, per se. But for every criminal to be punished—to have an ideal world.”
“Ideal world?” It sounded like Zero. Suzaku slowly put down his newspaper, gripping the butt of his gun uneasily. He swallowed slightly.
“Then again, the crime can be considered the punishment. After all, crimes are only wrongs of society. A moral criminal should feel guilt from pressure alone.”
“That’s an interesting theory,” Suzaku said, keeping his voice level.
“Yes,” Lelouch said. “If only all criminals were moral, there would be no criminals. But that, in itself, is only a theory. No, criminals are only those who change the world.”
“That’s what you’d like to think.”
“Suzaku?”
The roar of the villagers came again into his ears, pounding against his heart. And he could see the burning houses, and the people thrashing on the ground, and if he looked up at the sky, he could see only smoke, but he did not question, because he would serve justice and justice only.
“You were never punished,” Suzaku said, voice barely controlled. “You got off—free—“
“Punished? For what?”
And he had taken that gun and shot his father, so long ago, though his hands were small and he had trembled with his entire being, he still pulled the trigger to empty the bullet into his father, and he felt like screaming until his lungs were raw
And so he smashed Lelouch’s face with his fist.
He continued to pound, recklessly, densely. Because they were different, he and Lelouch, because Lelouch had the sharp intelligence, but his body was only so frail, and Suzaku could punch and punch and punch at the bone and skin and blood splurted into his fist until even he felt his energy was running low and
Euphie’s pink hair trailed behind her
“I thought we were friends!” he screamed. “I thought we were friends, so why—“
and it was a glimpse into either the future or the past, he didn’t remember, but he could see Lelouch’s injured look, and the very same words coming from his mouth
I thought we were friends
When Nunnally was taken away
“Suzaku?” Lelouch breathed, though his eye was swollen, and he twitched under Suzaku’s grasp. They were both on the floor now, but Suzaku was sitting up, and the television flickered against him.
“We’re the same,” Suzaku said, and tried to wipe away his tears. “We’re exactly the same.”
So when Lelouch’s memories had been wiped away, and he had died
Hadn’t Suzaku died
too