Disclaimer: I don't own Code Geass.

Chapter VI

(All Hail Britannia, Death to Japan!)

"The only way to make a person trustworthy is to trust him."

— Henry L. Stimson

His heart hammered in his chest, and his mind constantly flitted back and forth between two faces. One was a face of glittering rage, emerald orbs staring determinedly at him as the owner vowed, lips sealed in a resolved scowl. The second face was that of a gentle soul's, with kind, open eyes and honest truths, lips curled into a sweet smile.

He wanted to believe that what he'd remembered of Suzaku was true; that the Japanese was still as fiercely loyal and stubborn as he once was. That Suzaku was still respectful, prideful and dignified—but most of all honorable. He wanted to believe in Suzaku—that the brunette he'd once known would never hurt anyone, no matter their heritage.

He wanted to believe that Suzaku would never hurt Euphie.

But he could not ignore the facts, and the facts were that Suzaku was a young, impressionable boy under the tutelage of the manipulative Kururugi Genbu when he'd last seen the boy.

And so much time had passed.

Suzaku, please, he thought desperately, don't hurt her. For both her and your sake.

Even if Suzaku would hurt Euphie, he'd never condemn anyone to a fate as horrible as having to deal with Cornelia, the dreaded, protective elder sister.

And then there was him.

He'd never let anyone get away with harming the sweet angel that was Euphemia li Britannia, either.

When is Lelouch getting here? Euphie wondered irritably, her face tired and weary from smiling so brightly for such a long time. It hadn't helped that those smiles were false, too.

Maybe—maybe—she wouldn't have minded being around Suzaku so much, his surprising wisdom intriguing her to learn more. However, the cafe's overly polite waitresses, coupled with Suzaku's fans who'd somehow known they'd be there, wore her patience thin.

The waitresses, no matter how dignified they were meant to be, also found that they were unable to stop themselves from winking at Suzaku and generally acting flirtatious to the dashing teenager that was their Empire's Prince.

Not that Euphie was jealous, of course.

A second later another of Suzaku's numerous admirers walked up to them, eyes shining excitedly as she extended an arm towards the male. Motioning to the marker she held in her hands, she asked him to sign his autograph for her—and with that pleading voice she'd asked him with, how could he refuse?

Euphie found herself glaring at the girl.

It was completely illogical.

As a princess she had grown used to admirers who respected and wooed over you, and she'd even managed to grow accustomed to the constant questions, fawning, and even stalking. With the renowned Prime Minister as one of her closer siblings, how could she not?

She saw people come forward daily, begging the blond politician to sign his name on their shirts, and she saw people walk up and plead for a picture with the famed Witch of Britannia.

And yet this was different, somehow.

Something tugged at her heart as she saw Suzaku smile softly at the girl, bend down, and scribble rapidly on the inner expanse of skin on her forearm, eyes merry with amusement. Euphie's expression contorted unwillingly and subconsciously at the sight of the Prince tilt his head and hand back the marker, his hands accidentally brushing the girl's.

It was a completely unfamiliar feeling—the painful clenching and tightening of her chest. And if there was something she disliked, it was things she couldn't make sense of.

She glared. He's our enemy, she rationalised. He is my enemy—the prince of the people oppressing us—and I will bring his Empire down around him… Just watch me, Suzaku—watch me as I turn your life around!

And the tiny, fluttering feeling—which she would never admit was jealousy—burned and turned into flames fuelled by rage, and the thirst for vengeance.

The man smiled, his hand silently reaching into the folds of his unassuming tourist bag, assuring himself that the contents he'd packed personally were still there. Even after the years that'd passed since he first held a weapon, he still smiled at the feeling of the bulky object he'd gripped instinctively, and he imagined the shocked look on their faces once he'd drawn his weapon of choice out.

A gun, of course.

Closing the flap on the leather bag silently, his eyes scanned the room, seeking the renowned visage of his target.

Nagisa Chiba.

He smirked slightly as he caught a glimpse of the woman, her short raven hair framing her angular face beautifully. Had she been anybody else, he would have likely named her as 'pretty', regardless of her nationality, but for him, the blood on her hands distorted the image she had on other men.

He could only ever see her as the woman who participated in the murder of Lady Marianne.

And he would never forgive her.

He smirked slightly. That's why, Nagisa Chiba, I will take great joy in detaining you, even if it costs me my discretion and disguise. His eyes quickly swept around the room once more and glanced at the clock.

Three minutes until it strikes noon. His smirk widened. Perfect.

Silently, he prepared himself and took a step forward, only to feel himself collide gently with someone else. Somewhat startled, his eyes flittered upwards before shock filled him, and he quickly took a step back, gritting his teeth as he made himself bow.

"Y-Your…" He fumbled for his words, inwardly seething at the one he'd bumped into incidentally. The irony, he thought, resigning himself. "Your Ladyship," he whispered, unable to stop a slip of resent from staining his voice.

The woman glared down at him, peering down her nose as though he wasn't worth a second of her time. There was disgust in her eyes, and it took everything he had not to strike her down for her infuriating arrogance.

"You have some nerve, Britannian." the burly man beside her spat with abhorrence. "To touch a Knight of Honor like you have."

Jeremiah willed down the fury he was feeling, reminding himself the importance of the plan. How funny fate is; to bring me my target. He hid a smirk. How convenient. "F-Forgive me for my impudence, your Ladyship." He bowed slightly, forcing himself to stutter, although that wasn't entirely hard considering how much he was forcing himself to say those words he loathed to even think about.

"Britannian scum." Lady Nagisa murmured, sneering. "A wonder the Prince still vouches for your worthless lives."

Jeremiah made himself flinch, inwardly thinking, When we reclaim our glory, Lady Nagisa Chiba, my Prince will destroy you. He kept his head lowered submissively, relieved that they were in a corner, unnoticed to the masses of people. Inwardly, though, her words had shocked him. The Prince of Japan? His eyebrows arched subtly, years of hiding his expressions and disguising his identity dominating his feelings for a moment. Is he truly the only reason we remain alive, today?

"What do you have to say for yourself?" The burly man glared, and Jeremiah recognised him to be Hurei Araki, the mysterious bodyguard of Nagisa Chiba. "Why shouldn't we simply be rid of you right now, for your insolence, Britannian? We'd be doing the Japanese and Britannia's alike a kindness, I'm sure."

Playing the role of a frightened subject perfectly, Jeremiah Gottwald whimpered, stumbling back slightly. It damaged him, to have to act so pathetically, but, he reminded himself, this was all for the sake of his Prince. "I—Forgive me, your Ladyship."

"Buy me a drink, and I might find it in myself to spare your life, worthless Brit." Nagisa hissed out through clenched teeth, although a wide, mocking smirk was on her face.

Jeremiah did not understand what made her trust a foreign stranger she knew nothing of, besides his nationality which she clearly disapproved of. Still, he nodded fearfully and inwardly thanked whichever God made her that way. How convenient, that she gives me all the chance I need to end her pitiful existence.

His expression soured, however, as he remembered his orders.

"Phase One includes the detaining and capture of Lady Nagisa Chiba of the Knights of Honor. Use force if necessary, however, her continued life is essential in the overall plan."

With a twitch of the eye, he sauntered over to the bar, keeping his posture submissive and beaten. He waited patiently until the bartender turned to meet his eyes. His face did not show it, but he was inwardly surprised at the identity of the young man.

"Ah, hello, how may I—?" Suddenly the bartender blinked, his unease and nervousness vanishing instantly as a wide smile appeared on his face. "A Britannian..." He sighed with relief, smiling easily and friendlily at Jeremiah despite being complete strangers. His tense posture and overly polite tone dissipated slowly, although it was only replaced with a much more sincere kindness. "What would you like?"

Jeremiah smiled slightly, although a part of him mentally frowned at the bartender's youthful age and the fear he'd expressed. "I'm not sure," he started truthfully, "Would you happen to have any idea what a woman like the renowned Nagisa Chiba would like for her drink?" Although his choice of words showed nothing but respect and admiration, the tone he said them with was laced with venom and bitterness.

The bartender stared at Jeremiah for a second, before he nodded understandingly, pity in his eyes. "Wait a moment," he requested simply, turning around once more to do his job while Jeremiah's eyes darted around again. After a minute or two of silence, the bartender's voice spoked up again, "Here," he offered, giving Jeremiah a drink which the former guard and Knight held carefully. "Free of charge."

When Jeremiah shot the bartender a surprised look, the boy only smiled. "We're all in this together, right?" Jeremiah smiled gratefully, and the bartender chuckled. "I'm Rivalz. Rivalz Cardemonde."

"Jeremiah Gottwald," he responded honestly, his smile slightly sincere now. "Pleasure to be of your acquaintance."

Rivalz arched an eyebrow. "What's a former Guard of the Aries Villa doing, bowing down to the infuriating lady over there?" He gestured over to where Nagisa stood stoically, unmoving and seeking.

Jeremiah blinked, before his worry exceeded his surprise and he hissed, "Quiet! I don't need the world knowing my identity, thank you very much." After a moment, he added quietly, "How do you know who I am?"

Rivalz looked uncertain for a moment, before he shrugged simply. "I'm a friend of Milly's."

The Ashfords? Jeremiah's eyes widened slightly, remembering the young, exuberant girl who'd run around gleefully, claiming Prince Lelouch as her own. "Ah, I remember the young Mistress."

The Cardemonde boy nodded. "She told me all about the guards in Aries Villa. Spoke of a Lord Gottwald, whose loyalty exceeded his will to live."

Jeremiah's eyebrow arched at Milly's description of him, which quite did him justice, truthfully. "I see," he said simply.

"So why would a loyal Knight like you serve a Japanese Knight?"

"Are you questioning my loyalty?" Jeremiah hissed, eyes narrowing. "I'm with his Highness." It was only seconds after he said it that he winced, realizing that Lelouch was officially dead on papers, and he'd likely ruined the farce.

"Which Prince?" Rivalz questioned quietly, excitement overtaking his eyes. Could it possibly be? Dare I hope Japan will lose its grip on Britannia?

Jeremiah was suddenly glad that he had not mentioned any names. "I can't see why that would involve you, Cardemonde."

"Hey, we're both Britannians." Rivalz looked somewhat hurt, although irritation was present in his gaze. "We're on the same side."

"Perhaps," Jeremiah granted. "However, just because we are of common heritage means nothing of our intentions. Nevertheless, I've kept her Ladyship waiting long enough. If I want to keep my head, I'm afraid I must go." He didn't look the least bit apologetic or regretful.

Rivalz scowled but grunted in acknowledgement. "I hope you succeed, Lord Gottwald." He said quietly, ignoring the fact that Jeremiah had lost his noble ranking long ago, when Britannia lost her freedom. "I hope we Britannians get our lives back." Don't fail us.

Jeremiah nodded seriously. "We're doing our best." He hesitated for a moment, and then let the words tumble out, "I hope we meet again, Cardemonde. Don't die—you're a Britannian, after all."

Rivalz chuckled, although it was a chuckle without joy and full of somber solemnity. "I won't," he whispered quietly, numbly watching Jeremiah walk away with the glass cupped in his hands. You may be Britannia's only hope, Lord Gottwald, your Highness. And he wondered, once again, which son of Britannia's fallen leader it was, who Jeremiah followed devotedly. Could they really do it?

Destroy Japan, and free Britannia?

Suzaku smiled inwardly, gazing at the girl before him with admiration. A girl who reminded him of his old friend so much. You have the same eyes—hopeful, trusting, yet edged with disappointment. Horror, fear. The kind of emotion you get after you've seen the truth of reality.

Their eyes were both purple, too.

Was life so cruel, to haunt him with the ghosts of his past? Why did Lelouch keep plaguing him, his thoughts and his vision?

Oh, Lelouch. "So, how's life for you?" He asked, hoping he sounded friendly. It was so rare that he got a friend his own age, who pursued him for who he was, and not his status.

Euphie shrugged. "Good, I suppose." But there was a darkness to her voice, and an anger to her eyes. "Then again, it's as well as it can be, with no parents."

Suzaku flinched at her words, his heart aching. "Oh, I'm so sorry." Discomfort filled his eyes, "How—?" What are you doing?! He stopped himself from finishing his question, horror in his eyes. Can't you see she doesn't want to talk about it?

But Euphie only smiled at him, gently. "The war against Britannia." Despite the kindness of her face, there was an undertone to her words that made his skin crawl. "My father died, killed by Japan's own. My mother, seeking retribution, met the same fate." Hate was in her eyes, a hate so deep and real he shuddered, although he knew the hate was not misplaced.

Killed by... Japan? His breath hitched, horror, guilt and grief festering in his chest. "I'm s-so sorry." You're an idiot, Suzaku. Why would she want comfort from you, the Prince of the Empire that killed her own parents? Disgust filled his eyes—disgust for his home. Is this the true face of Japan?

He remembered her hesitance to follow him, and the irritation in her eyes when he continued to persist blindly. His eyes glared down at the ground, silently cursing himself. How could he have been so heartless, to ignore her unspoken wishes?

Reminding himself that he was still in the presence of the brunette, Suzaku forced on an apologetic smile and whispered, "I'm so, so very sorry for your loss. I never knew."

A sweet smile graced her face, yet somehow there was something in her smile that made him on edge. "I'm sure you didn't," she assured, her voice impatient for some reason he couldn't make sense of.

"Still..." He murmured quietly. "Surely there must be something I can do to help... To redeem my Empire?"

There was an unrecognizable expression in her eyes, and he extended an arm tentatively, his hand reaching forward slowly, as if longingly. He'd just been about to grasp her own arm, when suddenly a loud noise rang in their ears.

He froze, his blood running cold as his eyes searched for the source—the door to the cafe, which was now slammed open, a teenaged male standing there panting, shrouded in the sunlight of the Land of the Rising Sun. He looked ragged, exhausted, and yet his familiar, rich violet eyes were blazing with fury and a resigned scowl was on his lips.

"Don't you dare even think about touching her!" The teenager snarled, hissing angrily, fists shaking by his sides.

Suzaku's eyes widened, his gut churning as only one thought crossed his mind and exited his lips in a shocked, hopeful whisper; "...Lelouch?"

Jeremiah felt a weight settle in his heart, something that was a mix of regret, guilt, and responsibility. Duty. The burden of a duty—the duty of freeing Britannia.

Just you watch, Japan, Britannia. He vowed solemnly. We'll do it. We'll liberate Britannia. For the sake of the kind people of Britannia that Japan has enslaved.

"What took you so long?" Hurei glowered down at him, not trusting him even for a moment.

Jeremiah allowed a timid smile to creep up his face. "Forgive me, My Lords." He'd practiced the sentence in his mind so many times now there was only a dull ache of what would have been searing disgust and abhorrence. "I was trying to decide what drink to get her Ladyship."

Nagisa scoffed and outstretched her arm, waiting impatiently. Jeremiah inwardly glared at that arm—the arm that had killed thousands, possibly including Lady Marianne—but silently deposited the drink into her hands. Peering into the clear, translucent swirling liquor, Nagisa finally allowed herself to take a small, tentative sip.

When she glanced up and saw the insolent Britannian still present, she glared at him expectantly. "What are you still doing here, Brit?" He seemed to blink, before he flinched and quickly stumbled over his own words in a desperate attempt to apologize.

"Forgive me, your Ladyship, but..." Plastering on a look of hesitance, he awaited Nagisa's prompt and soon enough, he received an impatient glare. "T-The bartender spoke of a commotion outside, your Ladyship. Said a couple of Japanese and Britannians were duking it out."

Nagisa Chiba scowled, unable to stop herself and the sneer that escaped her. Those damn Britannians. Of course, she conveniently forgot that there were Japanese being immaturely petty, as well, fighting along with the Britannians. "I'll see what it is, then." She sighed, giving the Britannian a pointed warning glare.

He smiled nervously but led her outside, her bodyguard following them instantly. He noticed this and frowned, but kept his opinions to himself. It didn't matter at the end, anyway—I'll just have to get rid of him.

"Where's the fight?" Nagisa asked impatiently, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the rough surface of cement wall. I swear, if this Britannian lied to me, I'll have his head served on a silver platter. Her scowl sharpened as she set her gaze on him, before she amended, On second thought, Britannian scum like him doesn't deserve as much as a silver platter. I'll have his bodiless head on a wooden stake—that'll show the other Britannians not to mess with a superior race such as ourselves.

Satisfied, the lady Knight smiled at the Britannian male leading her and her guard out of the fancy ballroom, although really anyone watching would have taken it for a threatening leer.

"Oh, about that." Jeremiah responded, his nervous behavior fading into a sly, cat-like smirk. Nagisa's eye twitched at his following words; "That was all a lie. A ruse, a feint. Whatever you'll call it. Thing is, there were never any ruffians venting their aggression out here."

Nagisa's scowl deepened, about to gesture to Hurei to attack, when his eyes gained a sharp, feral glint. "Of course," he granted her with a feign of generosity, "if you'd like, we could arrange a fight now—between us, the determined Britannians, and you, the arrogant fools."

"Your people lost the war." Hurei hissed, coming up beside his Lady threateningly. "You are our inferiors! Along with your defeat, you lost your pride, dignity, and above all, the right to live!"

To Jeremiah's credit, he did not even wince in the slightest. Instead, he merely hummed in acknowledgement. "Yes, perhaps," he allowed acceptingly. "However, you are fools to think we'd stay down for long."

"It doesn't matter." Nagisa dismissed before Hurei could speak up anymore. "You can rise up to threaten our superiority and authority as many times as you'd like. We'll triumph every single time—we will never lose, not to insolent insects such as your people."

Jeremiah did not look insulted at all. His smile, in turn, only widened. "You won easily last time, due to your victory over our Emperor. Without a leader, we scuttled around like headless chickens, undisciplined and unsure as to what to do. Now, we've gained a new leader—one which is stronger and craftier than any we've ever had before. And your own soldiers..."

Nagisa's gut churned in realization as he uttered his next words. "How would they fare without a leader to take command?" Todoh-san! She thought desperately, hoping they hadn't somehow gotten to her fearless commander. "Of course, your army's current commander is rather difficult to correct... Thus, Knight of Green, I direct this question to you: will you give me the location of your commander, Knight of White Todoh, or will you take the punishment upon yourself?"

"Like hell I'll tell you where he is!" Nagisa spat, a furious dance in her eyes. "We Japanese value our honor above all else... To reveal the position of a commander—what honor is there in that?!" She shook her head, glaring at him with the fierceness of a warrior. "No, I will fight to the end! I will defend Todoh-sama even if it costs my life!"

"Honor..." Jeremiah sighed quietly, shaking his head. You speak of honor so often, taking pride in your aspects of dignity and, above all, honor. Yet... "Where is that honor you preach of, when you deliver violence to unarmed, innocent civilians, who've done naught to earn your ire?" I admire, respect even, your burning, undying loyalty and dedication to your master's cause. However, you've chosen the wrong master this time, and I cannot commend you for the sins you've committed against civilians who are only caught in the crossfire.

Nagisa stepped back as if burned, recoiling slightly. But then her rage returned, burning brighter than ever, and she glowered at him. "We are warriors! What right do you have, to talk about us as if you would do differently if you were in power?"

Jeremiah smiled regretfully. "You are correct, sadly. I cannot say with confidence that we would be any better in treating Japanese civilians, should our roles be reversed. However," For the sake of my Prince, he silently swore, "I cannot allow anyone who'd dare abuse their authority and power to live on!"

Hurei reacted before Nagisa did, much to her relief. Surely, had she been alone and unprotected, the Britannian fool would have gotten away with her. Or, at least, gotten away with her much more easily, without so much as a fight.

Jeremiah worked with the efficiency of a machine, stealing Hurei's weapons and pinning him against the wall effortlessly. He chuckled listlessly, and for a moment Nagisa feared that Hurei's devotion to her service would be repaid by unhindered cruelty.

Perhaps the Gods were in her favor, however, for Jeremiah showed mercy unusual for an opponent in battle. Instead of using the katana he'd removed from Hurei, as any other Britannian would, Jeremiah simply brought his arms up, and in one swift move, knocked the Japanese bodyguard out.

Nagisa made no noise at all, simply watching lifelessly as Jeremiah turned to her. She gave no pleas for mercy nor any grunts of pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

The last thing she saw before a void of blackness seeped through her vision was the blinking lights of her beloved Japan.

"I cannot reach your master, the famed Knight Todoh. You're not the leader, but I suppose with your own rank as Knight, the fall of yourself shall do enough damage to Japan... All Hail Britannia!"

A/N: I am so sorry for how long I took to update this! However, I do bring some news you might find a bit interesting. My other Code Geass story, The Truth Hurts More, will finally be updated. Yes, I know it took long, and I am really sorry for how long it has been taking to update one single chapter. Anyway, I hope you guys look out for that!

— sfaye-chan