Chapter Forty Eight: Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

Arc Twelve: Downfall

Opening: "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien" - Edith Piaf

Life went on from then, is it was wont to do, even when it seemed like it was content to stop forever at a moment in time that was distressing or worrying. Rivalz had called back again, apparently he had found stability in his life again after Milly had died, and Suzaku could only wish him well. He envied that ability to carry on, and wondered how the Britannian had done it.

Kaname Ohgi kept his promise, and did not run for reelection in the first General Election that the post-independence Republic had experienced, however it would be a foolish error to assume that the man rested on his substantial laurels for the three months he remained Prime Minister. Ending the war with Britannia and signing a permanent resolution was a key achievement, as well as keeping his Government in order after the unifying threat of Lamperouge had passed. He left office a hero, something his predecessor Suzaku Kururugi noted with irony as he sat alone, gazing out into the countryside by his house with a dull sense of emptiness.

It had been unofficial gospel among the Japanese political circles that the Ameliorates would not survive the third General Election, and sure enough they lost nine out of every ten seats they held to either direct losses or to splintering. Saburo Okawachi, riding off of high publicity and wicked charisma formed the largest post-Ameliorate bloc with Ohgi's blessing, the Japanese Labour Party, currently the junior partner in a coalition with the Constitutional Democrats, a centrist party who ran on restoring stability and swept the stakes while the two previously main parties competed to see who was liked less. They nominated a new President who kept his opinions to himself in the wake of his predecessor, and eventually, things almost returned to normal. Almost.

Sometimes, the differences were almost ignorable, if one wanted to ignore them, something Suzaku deeply desired, such as the reference to people he was once close to in the past tense, or faint references or background jokes such as when someone said something controversial and another person would respond "Careful, or Zero'll have to come out of retirement!"

Fortunately, there was little risk of that; Suzaku was more a danger to himself than anyone else, because sometimes the memories were not so quiet or ignorable. Sometimes they ignited like the fiercest of flames, and drenched Suzaku in oils and sweats and questions about what he could have done better.

Initially, Suzaku was unprepared for this, unwilling to seek help for what he deemed was ultimately his own fault and unable to deal with it healthily. He had a tendency in the months after Lelouch's death to become snappy and aggressive, and then fall into fits of paralysing guilt. Those who knew him believed it was still about him failing to stop Lelouch and being removed from office by force, but then, if they knew the truth he would be dealing with the truth in far less comfort than he was.

A prison cell, perhaps, if there was a Prosecutor willing to convict him.

The execution of Lelouch Lamperouge sparked a controversy into who this Zero was, and while the investigators, no friends of Lelouch's, didn't investigate too hard, they had certainly sparked a good few conspiracy theories online. In his more sardonic and meta moments, Suzaku had even browsed through some of them. A leading theory centred around Lelouch having three bullet wounds in his chest when the record stated he had only been shot twice; one bullet at the Convention with Euphemia, and one bullet in Parliament. While Suzaku credited the author with noteworthy observance, the site then went on to claim there was in fact a second shooter in Parliament, and the whole affair was a Cabinet level conspiracy to off the President disguised as Zero seeking justice.

Of course, it would be impossible to even guess what the third bullet wound was without knowledge of the fact that Zero had been three different people over the course of a few months, and that one of those people had been Lelouch himself, shot while chasing Tohdoh in the Tosa Incident.

Suzaku had learned this, and a great deal else, on the day after Euphemia went to help the bombed areas of Tokyo. Feeling hopelessly guilty as everyone around him worked hard, Suzaku decided to at the very least observe the damage his former friend had caused first hand. At this point, his depressed mental ravings had already formed the beginnings of a plan for revenge, however it was not until later that afternoon that they fell into place.

After a day of walking, an already drained Suzaku was exhausted, and upon recalling that Lelouch still owned the safe house on the edge of Tokyo where they had stored their Yen eight years ago, he decided to sleep there, safe in the knowledge nobody would bother him. However, when he entered he discovered a Zero costume hidden within floor panels where they had hidden their bank notes, and everything fell into place.

Lelouch was Zero. He had caused the deaths at Tosa. Even more than Suzaku had already known, Lelouch was responsible for everything, and would continue to exert his will beyond what was right. Very quickly, Suzaku's plot for vengeance transitioned quickly into a plot for justice, if one believed there was a significant difference.

After Lelouch was dead, new uncertainties compounded themselves on top of old ones to cripple Suzaku. Killing Lelouch to end the war, while the right thing to do, left him with such unbearable guilt, to the point that he sometimes wonder how he did anything at all under its immense weight. However, just as everyone else learned to cope with the ten tonnes of atmospheric pressure enveloping them, Suzaku too moved along.

It was slow, and not all days were progressions. Perhaps one day he would talk a jog around the local countryside, and another he would lie in bed wondering how his feet worked, how his hands worked, how his fingers managed to pull on the trigger of Kusekabe's pistol, given to him at the hotel, stolen by Kallen and then returned by the Britannian legal system and finally used for the first time against Lelouch.

It had not been fired again, instead having been locked away in a safe under his bed and the key flushed down the toilet. He didn't trust himself with it anymore.

All he had left from back then, beyond his fragile relationships, was the mask. The costume, a basic combination of fabrics, burned in a remarkably satisfying fashion that provided Suzaku great personal relief, but the mask survived, warped and blackened, but still recognisable.

After a while, Suzaku began to identify with it. It now lay alongside him in this quiet moment as they gazed out into their countryside together. He heard a rustle behind him and panicked, before realising what had made the noise.

"Prrrrr…"

One of Euphemia's plans to raise Suzaku's spirits was to give him things to do, not just household duties but personal obligations that could ease him back into independent living, and so she had purchased a cat, knowing full well how much Suzaku adored the creatures. Suzaku had once shared ownership of a cat with Lelouch of all people, back in Ashford; a black cat called Arthur that passed away in 2019. This one, Claudio, was a far more withdrawn beast, certainly not wont to the aggressive scratching of his predecessor. It, like Suzaku and the mask, was content to sit and watch the sun go down. The three of them formed a row, like suspects lined against a jail wall, all silent witnesses to the events of the last two decades.

The new silence lasted for some time, as Suzaku fell deeper into thought. Arthur may as well have belonged to a different universe, such was the difference between then and now. Back then, Lelouch was malleable, and Suzaku even dared to say good. It was impossible not to vilify him, dehumanise everything about him, or else Suzaku would crumple. However, being honest, it was impossible to ignore how Lelouch had once been; a fierce force for good, even if there were reservations.

Fortunately, Suzaku was quite skilled at lying, even to himself.

"It's funny… It once seemed…"

He spoke the beginnings of the memory out to nobody in particular, though as his senses returned he saw Claudio turn towards him inquisitively. Chuckling, he finished it for the cat.

"When we worked together, there was nothing in the whole world we couldn't do…"

He winced as he concluded "Right Lelouch?"

Sixteen years of memories was a long period over which to retroactively smear someone. Even now, he felt impossible pangs of sadness that in turn angered him more. Why ought he be sorry? He was by all accounts in the right, having prevented Lelouch from arresting Parliament. He did not regret his actions, nor did he want to, but he felt chains draw him back into a sea of overwhelming anguish and guilt he felt he didn't deserve.

He threw the helmet, reaching across and giving it an almighty hurl down the hill. This wasn't working. Back to square one.

At this point, the doorbell rang. The house was largely open plan, with several wooden buildings about the complex, so ringing doorbells were played over an intercom. Glad of the fact that he'd disposed of the mask of Zero, at least temporarily, he took a moment to tidy his mysteriously wet face before answering the door, and looking into the eyes of his father, now shorter than him.

They stared at each other for several seconds. Suzaku could only wonder what he was doing here. They had met once during the military occupation, with Suzaku visiting his father in prison. While he had been released in the first agreement he and Ohgi signed, they had not met since, Suzaku not particularly caring to reach out to the father who had lost the nation and then proceeded with the war for far too long after it was lost, the worst of both ends.

After a while, the elder Kururugi began "Hey, Suzaku."

"What do you want Genbu?"

Suzaku's father winced slightly, but braved his sons harsh tones to continue "I just wanted to have a quick chat."

Suzaku stared for some time attempting to figure the man out, but after a while he lost interest and decided to invite him inside.

"I'll put the kettle on." Suzaku announced as Genbu took a moment to examine the inside of the house. It had very similar air to the Kururugi shrine, something the elder man was surely noting as Suzaku made drinks. He recalled his father took two sugars in his tea, while his time in Ashford had turned Suzaku into a coffee addict. As he brought the two mugs inside, Genbu, having taken it upon himself to sit on Suzaku's favourite corduroy couch, explained "I just wanted to check on how you were doing is all."

Suzaku nodded as he passed his father the cup of tea, before sitting opposite on the leather sofa. They say in silence, as they drank their mugs empty, before Genbu asked "Are you still active? You look as if you've put on a little weight…"

It was Suzaku's turn to wince, as his father continued "I've been worried about you, a lot."

Suzaku's head fell a little, before his father's nose wrinkled demeaningly, a tic he had never shaken off. "A lot of people are. Don't doubt that I've had more than a few phone calls over the last few weeks. No matter what has happened, I'm still your father."

He held a breath that may have betrayed his anger. So people were worried about him, and had asked his father. He could only wonder how they thought behind their good intentions. Did they believe he enjoyed wallowing in his home like a pig? Did he strike them as the sort that wanted to be in the foul condition he was, that their pity would restore him? If a cat, if a lecture would restore him, then he would leap up back to his own two feet just as surely as he was sitting!

Furthermore, they had chosen the wrong messenger. Genbu spoke the word 'father' as if it held weight, as if it conferred a status above, or intricate connection to Suzaku as a person. Suzaku had seen enough of Euphemia to compare to Lelouch, or Schneizel, to know that the bonds of family extended no further than any other bond. There was nothing in Genbu's invocation of 'father' that made the man any less fat, any less foolish, or any less insensitive to the realities of Suzaku's life. Their bond was a weak one, plenty capable of being bent, snapped, or broken no matter what favour Genbu thought it conferred him.

But it could also be mended.

The question was now whether he wanted to mend this relationship that was in some need of work. In spite of himself, Suzaku could not help but dislike the man, not just for his material faults but something further, that took a great deal more anonymous small talk for Suzaku to arrive at.

Putting his mug down on the glass table with a degree of decisiveness to signal the end of the immaterial discussion, Suzaku began "The thing is… I have been…"

"Yes? What is it son?"

Suzaku winced again, but carried on. "Why did you do it? Why did you continue the war against Britannia when there was no winning?"

Genbu paused, evidently thrown by this turn in the conversation, before responding, likely eager for the opportunity to engage with his son on his son's terms, with "I guess… I was deluded. I thought even to the last moment that surrendering to the Britannian menace was simply not an option. It would have been a dereliction of duty to allow my nation to fall to such a force. In my attempt to save the nation I hurt its people."

Suzaku nodded. This was in line with what he had expected from him, though the added regrets certainly ended a comparison that he had established in his mind.

"Could anything have stopped you?"

Genbu suddenly looked very grave. "This is about Lelouch, isn't it?"

"I don't know… whether what I did…"

He certainly couldn't tell his father that he had assassinated the President, especially having just compared the two men out loud. It would be like pondering if he should kill his father, which was, if nothing else, rather impolite. However, with some framing he could ask the question from a different angle.

"I don't know whether I should… have done more…? I mean, I had had suspicions, but further actions would have been illegal. It's just…"

Instead of asking whether he should have acted against Lelouch from the perspective of having done so, he asked from the perspective of not having done so and wondering if he could have. Genbu seemed to buy it, and after a moment, began to respond.

"I don't know if I could have been swayed, at the time. I… I was in a state of delusion Suzaku. I regret it now, having lived long enough to be proven wrong."

Suzaku frowned, shaking his head invisibly. So he regretted it, would take it back. This ruined his analogy. If he could have gotten Lelouch to stop without killing him, perhaps he could have regretted his actions with time. He certainly shared traits with Genbu; a stubborn insistence on staying the course, an assumption of power over others, and a constant frown.

Would he have killed his father? Moreover, would he have regretted it?

He wasn't sure if he regretted killing Lelouch. The upsides and downsides made arguments as similar as Venus and Mars, that tore at him by virtue of their incompatible nature.

"He always acted with such decisiveness, and I'm here, just… so damn stuck by my own uncertainties it's painful."

Suzaku's head had descended to new lows. He felt so weak for being split, a weakness that was his failing at everything he had ever engaged in.

"That isn't the worst problem to have Suzaku."

Suzaku looked up in sudden surprise at that statement. What did he mean, Suzaku could only wonder. He was stuck and unable to get started again, a rather significant issue if the younger Kururugi said so himself. He could only gape as his father continued.

"Do you think Lelouch ever stopped and thought over what he was doing? Did he ever pause and correct course? I didn't. The only reason I came around was eight years alone in prison. You are a good person Suzaku, who thinks about the consequences your actions have on others. That's a trait a good few more people could do with, myself included."

Suzaku blinked. He vaguely remembered Ohgi making this point, or something like it a million years ago on the roof of Ashford, long before everything spiralled out of control. Suzaku was certainly more than capable of reflecting on his mistakes to a painful degree, but as ever, framing was everything.

"Whether you did or didn't act against Lelouch has past. Nothing you can do will influence that. However, with your ability to reflect, I have no doubt that you can learn from it better than certainly I could, and return to the world."

Suzaku was stunned into silence. The condescending authoritative figure he had expected was not present in the slightest. Instead of tearing him down with comparisons to the past, Genbu was actually praising him for the traits that depressed him, something not even Euphemia, bless her heart, had thought to do.

It was almost as if his father cared about his son. Given everything that had transpired, Suzaku was surprised at this.

"I-"

Genbu smiled as his son began to crack. He waved it off, before continuing "Give it some time. I've got a nonprofit working on rebuilding infrastructure destroyed in Tokyo, and we could use a man with proper critical thinking skills and connections in government to get our permits to start helping people. I think taking the win-win proposition here would be a wise choice that you'll look back on with pride."

He left shortly after, as there was not much else to say. Genbu had certainly not cured Suzaku's deep anxiety and sadness, nor was there a realistic possibility that he could have done so. It was not possible, nor in any way feasible, for a single meeting or conversation to suddenly relieve what was an illness, and to expect it to do so was degrading. However, it helped. It was not a single battle with a hope of decisive victory, nor was anyone going to fight it on his behalf. Time, and possibly some medication, would be Suzaku's main aid. However, his father had lent perspective from a place of real empathy, and made clear that it was okay to wait until he was ready. Suzaku had borne a heavy burden, one his father, Prime Minister before him, was well capable of understanding. He had waited eight years, and was wiser for it,

But Suzaku was tired of waiting. He was not better, mended, or saved. He did not know if he ever would be, if there would always be days where the shadow of his past loomed large. He would certainly never forget it.

But at least he knew what to do better next time.

I had a colleague with depression for some time, and it always struck me as a heavily misinterpreted ailment. In the medium term there is a belief, borne of our familiarity with physical diseases that are very specifically defined and treatable, that we can say an exact set of words or an exact set of actions that will cure the person forever.

The brain is unfortunately neither that predictable, that logical, or that kind. It can act insidiously and for a far longer term than we expect. Sometimes it can seem akin to people saying to you "Have you tried not being depressed?"

It seems like you are alone, and no one can understand, in part because of our misconceptions and attempts to solve the problem in ass-backwards ways, and in part because your mind is communicating these negative ideas.

I made this point in the concluding notes of the last chapter, that if you feel like this or know someone who does, please contact a professional. I can confirm it may very well save a life.

But this was not a total sad ending, and so I'll stop myself there. Suzaku has significant hope for the future, and things are rebuilding themselves. It is not the same, it never will be, but the ability to live on afterwards is about as good as it gets. If I could add anything else, it would have to be this: Without power, you can affect nothing. Take that as you will.

Thank you so much for tagging along on this trip. I don't know if I shall see any of you again, so I'll have to make this one count.

You're all brilliant people with vast potential, so stay safe, and don't stop reading. Please rate and review, even though the story is over. I'm still out there, writing somewhere, and any comments go straight to my emails, so if you have any nice words, or any ideas for how I could have done better, I would love to hear about them, whether its within hours of publishing or years later. There is never a bad time to hear critique.

~Eth0

Fin