Chapter 11

Their kiss lasted the length of a breath, but for that spell, it felt as though everything—from all the pain to the misunderstandings—would be okay. The feeling of his lips lingered on hers even as they parted. He hadn't resisted her advance. Silently, he accepted what she offered. It was like that day, wasn't it? Mere inches away from his face, she could only see his eyes. They were as quiet as still waters, an inaudible but strong promise that he would be able to endure this much. Nothing had changed since then. At least, not for Lelouch. His time had frozen still since seven years ago, locking his mind in a time when his life was a constant nightmare of sacrifice and lies. It was back in a time when Kallen couldn't see past the mask of the Demon Emperor. She was naïve before, Kallen would give him that. In hindsight, she couldn't believe she didn't see the signs that were blaring at her. She had been such a child.

But that was seven years ago.

It was a balancing act. On one hand, Kallen had sworn to believe the man through his actions. She was convinced it was the only way to see through his lies. On the other, how was she to know how far to stretch her faith in him before she started drawing a fictional image of whom she wanted him to be rather than who he really was. The man before her was good, inherently so. But at the same time, he was one capable of the most unthinkable evils if he thought it would bring about justice in the end. Was he deliberately trying to say things to spur her hatred? Did he think that would make her push him away so he could finish Zero Requiem?

Or was he genuinely sorry he got involved with her? Had her worry of that night been justified all along?

The anger that burned in her gut when he apologized all but disappeared, a hollow sort of foreboding now stood in its place. Among all these questions, there was just one sitting in the corner of her mind, unsure of whether or not it wanted to be acknowledged: Was it okay to believe in him just a little bit longer?

There was… no sin in believing him just a little bit longer, right?

Even if all her hopes turned to ashes in her mouth, she could afford such a fantasy for now, right?

Regardless what was 'wise' or 'correct', she would act in a way that she wouldn't regret. This was her second chance, and she would choose the road she turned her back on before.

She held his face with the tips of her fingers and looked into the eyes that didn't seem to see her. "You're the same, Lelouch," she stated, "but I've changed." She wasn't the same little girl who would dance to the tune devious Britannian nobles played. If Lelouch would manipulate her with his words like before, she wanted him to know that he would have to try much harder than he did last time.

"Don't you dare underestimate me, Lamparouge."

There.

She saw it as clear as the blue of the sky in a cloudless day: the first ripple in the hitherto still waters.

Satisfied with that small victory, she straightened and allowed her hands to fall back to her side. Lelouch, unsurprisingly, chose to remain mute and as usual, Kallen could only guess what was going through his mind. He was looking down at the glass of water in his hands again.

Lelouch sighed, so slightly that Kallen almost missed it. He set the near empty glass down on the frame of the capsule and stood up, forcing Kallen to step backwards as he did. In that moment, the knight had to fight not to allow her anxiety to show. For what he lacked in bulk, Lelouch claimed in height. He stood at least half a head taller than she as he stood over her, now wearing a completely different mask.

It was a proud mask, bordering on arrogant—a mask that controlled power, and knew very well that it did.

She was now speaking to the Black Prince.

"I have never underestimated you," he clarified, taking another step forward, then another, and another. There was barely any distance in between them when Lelouch stood up so why hadn't he walked into her yet? A jolt of surprise suddenly rushed up her spine as her back hit a wall. Impossible, she didn't recall moving.

"Neither have I ever overestimated you," Lelouch continued, "I have always known exactly what you were capable of, ever since Shinjiku." He stood close enough to but made no move to touch her as he kept her against the wall with an invisible force. "You may think that you're different now but every step backwards you've just taken tells me otherwise." With a solemnity that held no joy from being right, he stated, "You will break before the month is over."

Even as she contended with the formless pressure binding her still, Kallen narrowed her eyes. When referring to her, the words "you" and "break" never went in the same sentence.

That line was a very classic example. Oh yes, it was a very classic example of how god damned insufferable Britannian men were.

"Is that a threat?" the knight asked darkly.

"It's a plea, Kallen," was the reply, entirely impervious to her menace. "I have no intentions of being persuaded."

"Why?" the sharpness of her voice surprised her.

Lelouch gave a condescending look that questioned if she was seriously making such a query. Well, she was, and like the graciously patient noble she was, Kallen stubbornly waited for the prince's reply.

"It wouldn't serve anyone for me to stay—even for Ash and yourself," Lelouch said evenly.

"And who gave you the right to decide that? Who gave you the right to decide any of it?"

"Rights are beside the point; I shouldn't need to explain to you how my being back will put everything at risk."

"Risk!" Kallen half-shouted. "That's all they are. How could you deny your own child the right to grow up with a father over something that possibly won't happen?"

Lelouch narrowed his eyes. Instantly, she wondered if that was a landmine she should have triggered. "You and I both know that having a father isn't necessarily a privilege."

"You're right," the red-head returned. She wouldn't back down before she made her point. "But you know what is? Having the chance to decide that for yourself—knowing your father enough to make that decision. You can't take that away from him."

"This is bigger than him—than all of us. Peace cannot be gambled for the sake of one boy."

"Our boy," she corrected snappily.

Again, something flickered behind his eyes at her words and Kallen wasn't sure she liked that. "Our boy will know enough about his father from the world he's inevitably going to be part of," Lelouch said half a tone louder than before, "and what he learns will not be wrong."

Kallen blinked. She knew it was her turn to throw a punch but somehow, words failed to form in her mouth. 'Our boy', he said. He admitted it. He wasn't denying. Hearing him say those words seemed so… unreal. Her back entirely against the wall, she leaned. What was this swelling inside of her? It was as if the world itself had lifted. Gravity lessened. The feeling continued to swell, bigger and bigger, threatening to overflow and…

"Kallen."

The woman jumped as a single streak of wetness glided down one cheek. Not here. Not in front of him. Hurriedly, she wiped away the evidence with the back of her hand. Breathing in, she steeled herself to her best ability, "It won't be right either."

The Black Prince surveyed her with searching eyes, as if expecting her to follow up with her slip, to 'dissolve into a fountain of tears' any moment now. When would he learn that she wasn't that kind of a girl? Not then, not now and not ever. Kallen Stadfelt held her ground.

"This plan of yours to have me…" there was a slight pause as he located an appropriate word, "bond with him will backfire on you." The emphasis was minor but clear.

"It won't." Kallen was sure of it.

She could tell he had more to say but whatever it was, Kallen wouldn't find out today. "You don't intend to talk reason, do you?" he asked with a hint of solemnity.

Kallen bristled inwardly at the accusation but hours of being subject to Spartan-like etiquette classes allowed her to just barely hide it. "I think you're the one being unreasonable."

There was a small stretch of silence before temporary ceasefire was called. Lelouch retreated, turning on his heel and taking that invisible force with him. Kallen sank against the wall but didn't take her eyes off of him. She watched as he reclaimed the abandoned glass of water before sitting back down on the edge of the capsule. She, on the other hand, wasn't so sure she could move just yet. The relief (as she had come to recognize it for what it was) was still fresh in her system. Call her paranoid, but she hadn't come all this way in life, dodging in and out of wars, without always being prepared for the worst case scenario. To hear him call Ash his own… it was better than any dream Kallen could imagine. "I didn't think you would accept it so readily," she said. Her hands met each other in front of her dress and laced together.

Both Lelouch and she knew that if he was going to take back what he said, now would be the time. After all, as much as Kallen would like to believe otherwise, it could have been a slip of the tongue, something said in the heat of an argument. It was alright for him to recede, she decided. Even if he did, a slip proved that there was hope yet. She braced herself for the worst.

"Nothing would change even if I continued to deny it."

Despite herself, a small smile spread across her lips. Lelouch was just that, wasn't he? Ever logical.

"I need to speak with Schneizel… or Cornelia if he's not back yet."

Kallen inclined her head. "I'll pass your message along."

Lelouch was once again alone in his prison cell. He sat on his thin bedding, awaiting the arrival of the Witch of Britannia. With dry humour, he noted that even with the presence of silk clothes and the absence of steel chains, this was likely the most uncomfortable prison cell he had ever been subjected to so far. His first would have to be his "room" at the Kururugi Shrine. Admittedly, it was little more than a rundown shed away from the main house when Nunnally and he first arrived. However, after a while, it grew to become more pleasant than all the richly decorated rooms in Aries Villa. Then there was Ashford Academy. His mother's friends had always gone out of their way to ensure they were contented materially if nothing else. Indeed, compared to those places, this was simply depressing. What could he say? It seemed that for all the misfortune he had in his life, he at least always drew good lots when it came to the living conditions in his moments of captivity.

The Black Prince frowned. He had never been one to think much of the word "sorry". It did a poor job representing the guilt a person felt and an even poorer job resolving problems (usually read as "bringing back the dead"). Yet, with what Clovis-slash-his-subconscious said in mind, he thought he owed her that first step. She took to it more unkindly than he thought she would though. This only proved how much he wasn't using his brain. Seven years of sleep must have eaten away at his common sense till he nothing left. An apology must have been the last thing she wanted to hear concerning that night.

Don't you dare underestimate me, Lamparouge. Those words hadn't stopped echoing in his head since Kallen said them.

Some would have taken that as a declaration of war, he thought almost wryly. She referred to him using the pseudo name he assumed while hiding at Ashford. It meant that she didn't see him as a royal figure that needed to be revered, she saw the student council vice president who she attended classes with. In other words, she saw him as an equal.

He shook his head. Lelouch needed to focus on the scenario at hand. There was no denying that the issue that stood between Kallen and he needed to be resolved but to do that, he needed to properly play out the negotiation to his favour, on his terms.

There was a knock at the door before it slid open.

"Corneli—" Lelouch greeted before he stopped short. He blinked as someone who definitely was not Cornelia entered the room. Forgetting himself for a while, he stood up while his tongue continued to fail him, surprise openly stripping him of the cloak of composed caution he so carefully wrapped himself in.

"Good evening, Brother," the young brunette smiled from where she sat in her decorated wheelchair. "I hope that you don't mind that I came instead of Cornelia."

Of all the underhanded moves his half-siblings could make…

Nunnally?

The last time he really saw her, she was fifteen-years-old, a frail girl barely in her teens. He could scarcely recognize the woman before him. Even the way she spoke was different. Gone was the child-like, innocent voice that was laced with gentleness no matter the situation. Hers, while still amiable to the ear, was now more assertive with smooth refinement. A surge of mixed emotions whirled up inside him: joy, shame, guilt and, to a certain extent, fear. The last few memories he had of her and vice versa were not pleasant ones. His brain tripped over itself deciding what to do, what to identify her as, how he was to act in front of her. If it was Cornelia or Scheziel, it was simple.

He was the opponent.

Where there was a table, they would always sit on opposite sides, facing each other head on. Lelouch always had a mutual understanding with Schneizel. It was a sort of relationship difficult to describe with words. They possessed a mutual respect for each other, where the word 'respect' ran slightly more ambiguously than what dictionaries described. For Cornelia, Lelouch had stolen away the one thing his half-sister loved most in the world in order to protect the one he loved the most. Both of them knew exactly where the other stood. But for Nunnally…

Who was he supposed to be now?

Her brother? The first Zero? The Demon Emperor?

Where was he to sit when it was Nunnally at the table?

"Brother?" Nunnally repeated, concern lining her voice.

She still called him by that, but Lelouch had done all sorts of things that made him undeserving of that title. Somewhere, he could feel Clovis raising an eyebrow, silently observing what his next move would be. If the situation hadn't been so humourless, Lelouch would have scoffed. He never thought there would come the day when he felt pressured by Clovis, of all people—or ghosts, whichever fit the profile better.

"I asked Cornelia to let me talk to you," Nunnally said quietly. When she realized she refocused Lelouch attention on her, her eyes dropped, escaping Lelouch's. "Cornelia was against it, but I insisted."

The silence that came after was deafening.

He should say something. Anything. It was seven years past the last time they talked on proper terms. He should be overwhelmed with choosing what to say first. At the very least, he should end the awkwardness. However, like the failure of the brother he knew himself to be, his silence forced her to speak first. Clovis, naturally, shook his head in disappointment.

A frowned creased her dainty features as she spoke awkwardly, almost as if reciting a speech, "I love you. It's unfair. I would have been happy if I could just be with you. I can't bear a future without you."

Something pulled at his heartstrings. Setting aside the random string of words that clearly could not have been directed to him and the disarming "I love you"; the dreaded H-word was there too.

Nunnally lifted her chin. Pink dusted her cheeks. She was embarrassed? But at what? Her expression was difficult to decipher. "I know… it's childish," a slight stutter tormented her, "but I always hoped… you would indulge me."

Lelouch's lips parted but again, no sound came. He didn't have a right to speak, did he? But how much worse would it be for him to not engage? It took more self-coaxing before he finally spoke, "I don't understand."

"These were the words I said to you when…" her voice faltered, her syllabus getting tighter and tighter. Her brows creased together and she pursed her lips as she took a moment longer. When again she started, her tone resumed its composed condition, "I needed to know you heard them."

Those seven words struck home for him: Zero Requiem. It was never part of his plan to die in front of Nunnally, not that literally anyway. He knew not if Nunnally was gentle enough to care if he died. He was a lying murderer; he went to extreme lengths to ensure he wouldn't be missed. However, he never wanted to expose her to the… mess, the horror of blood staining her hands. She had gone through one too many of these events already with their mother. He knew all this, but still he couldn't help be feel comforted in his last moments. It was too good a death for him: to pass beyond the threshold of life and death with Nunnally holding his hand.

"I didn't," Lelouch admitted. He had lied to her before, but only because Zero Requiem hinged on it. But now… now he owed her the truth she deserved. He recalled in his hazy memories her touch, the smell of his blood and the warmth of her voice but not words. That was the truth and so were the words to follow, "But I know."

He had always known.

Her expression softened and her eyes shimmered for a second. She didn't ask him why. She didn't demand an explanation. No, what Nunnally did was far more intimidating, as if taking a bite out of the forbidden fruit for the first time. Carefully, she lifted her arms out towards him. She was likely too fearful to ask permission, just as he was too afraid to give it. She couldn't move so it was up to him to take that step forward. For the first time in what felt to be forever, the prince's self-control wavered. He mustn't give in. He knew he couldn't afford to show any lingering affection for this world. If not for the sake of those he was going to leave behind again, for his own. Yet, he couldn't stop he own arms from lifting as well from where they held stagnant. Tentatively, they reached out to her. Men were weak. Temptation lulled them in like a siren's song, promising them their greatest fantasies and dreams, be they in the form of flesh, wealth, or… comfort.

Lelouch would never claim that he was a man immune to weakness.

But today…

Today, he knew his place.

He took her hands, one in each, and joined them together as he knelt on one knee. Her hands were small in his, her fingers slender and long. Was he avoiding her gaze again? "I won't apologize," he stated quietly.

Nunnally didn't take two seconds to consider her response. There wasn't the slightest change in her outlook but her tone had grown firm, "No, you will." Lelouch, on the other hand, took some effort in concealing his surprise at her response.

"I won't apologize for something I'm not sorry about," Lelouch justified, "Zero Requiem was necessary."

"It's not Zero Requiem you should be apologizing for."

At this, he had to look up to meet Nunnally's levelled gaze. Even though he had the opportunity to see it before he died, he couldn't help but feel it unfamiliar. Somehow, a part of him still couldn't believe that the little girl had broken through the Power of Kings that stole her eyesight.

"I've thought about it," she continued when he offered no reply, "over and over again. I questioned if what you did was right, and if I could have done anything different if I were in your position."

"And your conclusion?" He asked, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"It's wrong," she said immediately. "Nothing will ever justify killing like that… killing at all." Her fingers curled into loose fists in his hands. "That's why, in that sense, Zero Requiem isn't any different from Damocles. I'm the same as you. My hands are just as stained as yours, and that's why I don't have a right to criticize you about your choices."

"I thought you were like me," Nunnally smiled softly. "I assumed we both had moved on from our pasts and forgotten about Britannia. The way you laughed and played when we were with the others made me think it was okay to start over as a Lamperougue, but I realize now that I was too childish. There was no way my gallant big brother would allow such injustice to roam unchallenged." The playful tenor at the end of her statement wasn't missed. Even the solemn Black Prince couldn't fend off a minute grin at that.

"Are you teasing me?" Lelouch probed in semi-disbelief.

"Never," his little sister returned with a well-timed and petite cough.

Had the topic they were delving into not been so morbid, this would have been one of those times where Nunnally's bubbly laughter would dance off the walls. For now, the siblings were content as they were: holding hands and exchanging silly grins. That was, until the young empress threw her head backwards and let out a sigh, eyes heavenwards. "Two seconds ago, I had every intention to have you begging for my forgiveness before even starting to talk. Must you always foil my plans?"

"You're welcomed to letting me in on what you think I did?" Lelouch offered, "I won't make promises but I'll see what I can do?"

Nunnally shook her head. "The moment's lost," she said, again with a sigh heavier than the last. She straightened quickly and fixed him with a pouty look—a very un-empress-y pouty look. "But don't think you got out of this. I will have you apologize until I'm satisfied for what I know you did. Until then, be tormented trying to figure out what it is." She passed down her sentence mercilessly.

Lelouch could only stare before gravely breathing out his heavy words, "What have Schneizel and Cornelia done to my adorable and innocent little sister?"

"Lelouch!" the brunette protested, a smile hinted behind her parted lips. She looked on the verge of retorting before she closed her mouth and shook her head. "You're impossible."

He would stop if he could, but for some reason, smiling at her disapproving expression seemed like the most natural response.

At that, she rolled her eyes. "Let's take this outside," Nunnally retrieved her hands from his and turned her chair around, the action forced Lelouch to stand and take a step back. "I won't have my brother in this prison cell a second longer."

"It's not so uncomfortable," Lelouch consoled her as he came up behind her to take the handles of her wheelchair. He didn't move immediately. Lelouch was grateful for the temporary reprieve Nunnally offered, but even then he was a rationalist. "Nunnally."

"Hm?"

"Are you sure you don't want to finish?" he asked gently.

There were several reasons Lelouch could draw up for Nunnally to guide their conversation this way. "Guide" was a sly word, but he meant it with no ill intent. Whatever this "apology" was, Lelouch felt it held more significance than how his sister was downplaying it. Her reply was unhurried.

"Another time."

Lelouch nodded, more to himself than her, before starting to push Nunnally towards the door.

This was a bad idea.

Oh, it was a terrible idea, but most unfortunately this was also terribly necessary. In part, she knew, as immortal and above lowly human needs as she was, that prolonged starvation wasn't a pleasant feeling. Oh, and of course it was because there were certain puzzle pieces she needed to acquire for her to make her next move. The other players on the board were moving faster than she had anticipated so she couldn't afford to be lax either. She always knew herself to be a talented young woman capable of anything but playing against some of the most dangerous minds of the mortal world from the depths of a six-year-old little prince's closet was asking a bit much. Sigh, it was a difficult task getting into the palace undetected. She would hate herself so much if she were to be discovered now after all that hard work. If nothing else, the Witch of Britannia commanded a near fool-proof security. If one really thought about it, when has Cornelia ever been anything but a thorn in C.C.'s side?

Of all the many, many things C.C. could be openly smug about, knowing the layout of the newly constructed Britannian Castle was one of them. Construction was messy work, with the comings and goings of people hard to regulate. One could say that it was only because certain parts of the castle was still undergoing construction work that C.C. managed to secure a sliver of an opening to sneak inside.

In truth, she had been reluctant to leave Ash. She hadn't thought that he would use his geass on Lelouch this soon. His current status was… questionable at best. The child was akin to a time bomb, except the timer was nowhere to be found. One corner of her lips tugged upwards. But then, weren't all Geass holders such?

Right, important things first.

Ash was just Phase One. Now, on to Phase Two.

What was Phase Two, you might ask?

Well, where would the fun be if you were just told?

But because she was such a generous soul, she would give two hints: Pizza and Prince Scheneizel's office.

Turning the corner, C.C. pursed her lips. Who was she even talking to? Marianne wasn't there anymore.

"I sense your disapproval, sweet sister," the blonde and whimsical figure said as he stood among flowers. "Indeed, if you were to glare at me like that any longer, you will inevitably burn holes right through me."

The second figure, a woman of slim physique and poised deposition, stood behind the image of Clovis. "You're deviating from our plan," she said, accusation delicately placed among her syllables. The gentle breeze swayed the hem of her lilac and cream dress around her ankles.

"I did no such thing," Clovis said. He stood up and his existence seem to shimmer as he moved. "I merely understand Lelouch vi Britannia more than most." He smiled at her. "I confess that I might have had a little bit of fun with him. Besides, how many people can say they toyed with the infamous Demon Emperor?"

"If you push him too far, he'll fall."

"That's where you're wrong," the spectre who wore Clovis' image said. "Lelouch vi Britannia is already falling."