Coup d'�tat

November 3rd, 2022 a.t.b.

The pilots had done their best. Some were going to have terrific hangovers the next morning, but they would all agree that it had been worth it.

At around one in the morning, Suzaku emerged from the revelry to get some fresh air. There were some things that he tried to stay away from--alcohol being one of them because it lowered his guard against the activation of the Geass. It had led to his reputation as a bit of a staid wallflower at parties.

But he had a few drinks with them for old times’ sake and got out before he could accidentally read the likelihood of someone getting lucky or puking in the bushes after one more drink.

At the back of his mind, he was glad that he had two full Battalions of experienced KMF pilots that he personally trusted in Pendragon. It was clinical, but he had chosen to seize the reins of power--of an Empire no less--and there was too much at stake here to be overly sentimental.

There was still the matter of Cornelia’s special package that would arrive later in the morning. He had best get back before the real storm hit. The years in the army had taught him to sleep whenever he could.

He was near the edge of the royal gardens when he noticed that he was not the only one taking in the night air. Two pairs of amber yellow eyes regarded him from the shadows. Suzaku made a slight detour off the path towards them. “So this is where you go late at night,” he said.

Leaning against the white marble balustrade on one of the scalloped-edged terraces that connected one wing of the Palace with another was C.C. with Arthur in her arms.

“An Emperor should have guards,” she said. “I could have been an assassin.”

“You could have,” he agreed. They both knew that his Geass could potentially map out the circumstances surrounding an assignation attempt--it had save his life more than once. “But it isn’t an assassination if we both agreed on it.”

“You only need to die once,” C.C. said. She passed Arthur to him. "Here, cats are supposed to be good for your blood pressure."

"When were you concerned for my blood pressure?" he asked. There certainly was a slight spike in his heart rate the moment Arthur bit him, but he was used to that by now.

"Since you've decided to become responsible for the largest Empire on earth," she replied blithely. "Don't work too hard now."

"But you always said I should work harder." That was when he had been younger. When he had walked the neighbourhood dogs and ran errands to support a witch's pizza habit. She had looked at him when he had suggested that she get a part-time job at the novelty toast shop on the corner that served, amongst other things, pizza toast. Suzaku never suggested it again.

Arthur finished savaging his hand into submission and demanded to be scratched under the chin.

"All work and no play . . . will make you regret a lot of things when you get older."

"But I'm not going to get older, am I?" She had not mentioned the contract in years and Suzaku had felt remiss--she had kept her end of the bargain so far. "You'll pass me your Code and I'll grant your wish."

"Saaa . . . who knows when that will be?" She flipped her hair back and perched on the balustrade as though this was not the matter of his life and her death. "Your Geass . . . is weird."

Her casual pose did not deceive Suzaku, who knew that she had been waiting for an acceptor to fulfil the contract. Waiting for years, decades . . . centuries. The child he had been had not comprehended the enormity of such a thing.

"I'll have plenty of time to get everything sorted out." Or it could turn out to be an eternal cycle of war. He had seen the possibilities and it made his nightmares look mild.

"You won't have your Geass if you take the Code," she reminded him. She was not the only one who was failing at acting that night. "You won't be able to see--"

"Maybe it's better that I don't." The power was both a gift and a curse. That Chinese man--Mao was his name--had demonstrated that point all too well.

"Maybe." Immortality was her curse. The elephant in the room they did not talk about. She gazed out over the glittering array of lights beyond the Palace grounds--Pendragon by night was a stunning city. "Maybe you'll be forty or fifty by the time you're ready to take the Code."

He could not imagine himself at forty, much less fifty. A soldier went into battle prepared to die. Or that was the impression he got from some of the old guard in Japan. And the Britannian military when the Honorary Britannian troops were concerned.

But would he have achieved what he had set out to do?

"Maybe you'll have children and grandchildren by then."

That prospect was all the more terrifying when Suzaku thought of the burden placed on children by their parents.

"Would you have children . . . if you were able to?" If she did not possess the Code that had rendered her unchanged since that dark day in a chapel lost somewhere in the fog of time.

The witch glanced his way before turning back to the view of the city. "I don't really know. It was expected, you know, back then. It didn't matter who you were or where you lived. Women gave birth to children and raised them. That was that."

“You would be a good mother.”

C.C. looked down at the white marble balustrade she was sitting on, more than a little embarrassed. “You’re only saying that because I watched you grow up. I know nothing about nursing a baby or birthing one.”

A fragment of a conversation with Euphie came to mind then. "If you ever decide to have a child, would you choose Lelouch to be the father?"

For the first time in a long while, C.C. was speechless.

"Oi, don't go planning someone else's life for them before you've settled your own," she said, recovering superbly from that momentary lapse. “This isn’t over yet, Emperor, not by far.”

"Just a thought."

"You can keep those thoughts to yourself, thank you very much." She glared at him. "Angela-san would have told you to keep your prying mind out of her uterus and then some."

Suzaku had, during his adolescence, fought with the erratic nature of C.C.'s gift to him. One unfortunate side-effect that had cropped up had been the paths he had seen whenever he caught sight of his guardian's boyfriends. It had been unfortunate because he had been a teenage boy, discovering hormones for the first time. He always had to bolt back to his room, red in the face because he could see just how the evening might proceed with Sousuku-san or Alan or Patrick after dinner and drinks--

He had been mortified and ashamed--it was an invasion of Angela-san's privacy, intentional or not. It was embarrassing to think about that even now. Which had probably been C.C.'s original intention. Angela-san was a rather touchy topic even now.

"I'm going to pull Lelouch out of whatever dark corner he's managed to bury himself in," Suzaku said to change the subject. "Are you coming along?"

"Of course not," C.C. said, taking Arthur back from him. "I'll just ruin the mood. Arthur and I will go find some pizza. Arthur would like that, won't he? Yes, he would--"

"C.C.," Suzaku said helplessly as he watched her coo at his cat. She did that whenever she was pissed at Arthur's human. Arthur always played along, purring agreeably whenever the prospect of food was evident.

"Arthur, your human is a prat," C.C. said to the cat. "He doesn't know how to talk to girls at all. It's a miracle how he got a girlfriend--"

"C.C.--"

"Mrreeoow."

"--which means she's putting up with him and has the patience of a saint. I don't know what she would say if she knew your human was trying to set her brother up with--"

"C.C.! Euphie likes you too. And she was the one who asked you that question, remember?"

"She likes almost everyone." C.C. finally stopped talking to the cat and faced him. "She won't thank me if I gave you the Code," she said abruptly. This was a caution. Enjoy it while you can.

And these were the thoughts that Suzaku studiedly did not think about on a day-to-day basis. He had not planned for after all of this because there was the chance that they might not survive the deconstruction of the Empire. He had not planned because there was an equally good chance of C.C. passing her Code on to him as the Geass evolved. What would happen after that . . . might not be within his power to decide. Not even Lelouch knew about the final condition of his contract with C.C. --that secret he would carry alone.

"Go find your irritable miracle-worker and screw the angst out of him," she said, waving him away when he made no move to diffuse the tension. "When His Highness is in a state, he’ll let the whole world know it. Arthur and I will seek solace in pizza."

"Mrrrr," Arthur purred contentedly.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Hey, C.C., you like Lelouch, don’t you?

* * * * * * * * * * * *

July 30th, 2014 a.t.b.

They said he could return to his family in Kyoto after his fourteenth birthday. The Britannians were secure in Japan--Area 11--now. Secure enough that one boy was no longer important in the grand scheme of things.

For Suzaku, it was not just a matter of going back to Kyoto. It was returning to a life of not-talking-about-his-father and the tight feeling across his chest that felt like something waiting to explode. Explode and spill his secrets--the darkest ones--out with his poisoned innards.

No, he could not go to them.

There was also the remnants of Japan’s nationalist movement, clinging onto existence because the Britannian government was loathe to expand the necessary resources to hunt them down.

He had not gone to them. Partly because he was determined to do things his way. Partly because Toudou and Kirihara knew. Also because even the Britannians knew that one boy would not make much of a difference now.

His extended family in Kyoto had a letter detailing his decision but not his reasons for applying for Honorary Britannian status. There was no ambiguity in his language. He never heard from them again and Suzaku knew that he was dead to them.

Angela-san deserved more than just a letter, he knew. So he had told her himself on the day when he had received the confirmation letter and waited for her to swear at him.

She never did.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

October 1st, 2014 a.t.b.

The hazing of new recruits was over relatively quickly. Unless one was a former Number.

“You don’t have to put up with it,” C.C. said, toying with the last slice of pizza she had found in one of the boxes leftover from the “first day initiation party”. She had slipped in after the others had left. How she had managed to enter a guarded military facility was something Suzaku intended to find out soon--for personal reference.

“It’s what happens when you start from the bottom. All the trainees have to go through this.” And when he was finally a private, he would have to go through the same thing. Each and every rung of the ladder was probably slippery and full of pitfalls for Honorary Britannians.

“I don’t see anyone else doing the cleaning up.” She did mock him on occasion for being overly conscientious.

Being the most junior recruit did not mean that Suzaku had been blind how the drawing of the straws was rigged. And he had heard them at it too.

“I might be doing it to look keen.”

“Your eager recruit act is getting scary.” C.C. let the pizza slice fall back into the box. “But you’re not that duplicitous . . . You might need acting lessons.”

“Is that even necessary? I’m just a lowly recruit.” Suzaku continued to stack up the rubbish. He had eventually learned how to talk to C.C. without getting into a verbal battle with her.

“You could have continued schooling, you know?” Tired of the one-sided conversation, C.C. changed the subject. “Your guardian would have wanted that sort of life for you.”

“I’m not the academic type,” Suzaku said, neatly avoiding any discussions about Angela-san. He could not imagine himself going through high school, university and then getting a desk job.

“No, you would have been some soccer star or basketball rookie of the year--”

“That would be cheating.” Suzaku finished stacking up the pizza boxes and retrieved the last one from where C.C. was lounging.

“You could probably have done it without the Geass. I told you before, you’re not that ordinary.” Deciding that the pizza was a little too cold even for her, she relinquished the box.

“Well, I’ll never know now, will I?” He had not meant for it to come out that way. It had been a trying day and her prodding had not made things any better.

“You regret it, don’t you? The Geass,” C.C. said in the silence that followed.

“I don’t regret saving those people.” He had actively used that ability a few times to change the course of a life. A nudge, a push, a word in the right place was all it took to prevent a fatal accident or worse. But then who was he to decide who lived and who died like that? He had been impulsive when he had unsheathed the blade that he had sworn not to use. C.C. said that it was a chronic problem and there was no curing him of it. The impulsiveness, she meant.

“You never liked having the power. That’s why you don’t use it.” This was a matter of contention between them.

“Only if I use it to protect people.” The witch had told him that his ability would grow with usage. He had accepted that he would have to figure out how to use it, but even with C.C.’s help, he had been unable to extend the range of the Geass outside the immediate present.

“And you joined the army? Angela-san was right. You’ve taken leave of your senses.”

“You should know my mind best--right, C.C.? Am I crazy?”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When he was fifteen, Suzaku lost his virginity to C.C. because he had, in a moment of misguided adolescent idealism, decided to make her happy by taking their relationship to a more romantic level. Rather than vigorously slapping some sense into him, she had shown him what that sort of relationship entailed and how they would never work out.

(That had been before he had found out about Mao. And he still wondered why she had not kicked him from Tokyo to Niigata for it. She was capable of it, he had no doubt.)

He was grateful for that much as it redefined their compact once again. They were accomplices in an insane scheme. He would have called her a friend if he was not afraid that she would think he was getting sentimental again.

C.C. avoided him for a while after that, saying that she felt like a cradle-robber and would he, for her sanity's sake, get a girlfriend soon?

He did not intend to have or start a long-term relationship--ironically another result of C.C.'s early education--but he had the odd liaisons with his peers in service. It was a soldier's way to blow off steam after months of combat training and tours of duty.

Then after a day in August when she had visited him briefly, C.C. vanished from his life.

Suzaku had a vague dream that night of her sneaking out of the military compound, the hail of bullets that followed and then a sudden silence that was more frightening for the fact that he could no longer sense her through the tenacious link that they had developed.

If she had not been immortal, Suzaku would have feared for her life. But as she was virtually indestructible with her Code, Suzaku knew that the worse had occurred. She was being detained--somewhere out of his reach and abilities to contact her.

He knew this for she had made a promise to him. She had kept it faithfully until that day.

It was all he had to believe in for the next few months.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

May 12th, 2016 a.t.b.

When the news of Angela-san’s death reached him, Suzaku had just returned from Hokkaido after several weeks of wilderness training. C.C. had been missing for almost a year and for all his efforts, he had not been able to reach her through the link they once shared. His movements were limited by his training, but he had tried to contact her every time they moved from one base to another.

The message, dated a month earlier, was from Alan Danvers--Angela-san’s last boyfriend. It had probably made its circuitous way through all the internal security screenings and the censorship board before reaching him.

His first thought was that if only he had been there, this would never have happened. The drunk driver would not have hit her bike if he had been there. The Geass would have ensured that.

According to the letter, it had been an instantaneous death--whatever comfort that might have been to the reader was lost on Suzaku. The pet carrier and the cat inside it had also been killed when the motorcycle had collided with the barrier wall.

It had been Tama’s bi-annual check-up, he realised. They had been going back home after Tama’s appointment with the vet. Both of them were supposed to go with Tama--it had been a ritual.

By the time Suzaku had received the missive, the funeral was long over and Angela-san’s remains had been shipped to her parent’s in Australia. She would have been happy to find out, as a registered member of the organ donation bank, that her undamaged liver had gone to a needy recipient. As though anyone cared about their livers after death.

His second thought was why didn’t someone just call?

But he was not her direct family. Only a boy who had stayed with her for a few years before leaving. He would write to thank Alan Danvers because he had bothered to inform Angela-san’s former ward about her death. It would take a while for it to make it through all the screenings.

He was a soldier now, soon to be promoted to active duty, and the military did not allow personal communications while they were on duty or in training. Not that he had a family or close friends outside of the army. He had given all of that up when he had taken up honorary citizenship and joined the military.

There had only been C.C. and Angela-san after that. But now, it appeared that he only had a handful of memories left.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

July 31st, 2014 a.t.b.

She did not swear at him when he told her what he had done.

“Are you sure about this?” Angela-san asked. “Isn’t there a law against child soldiers somewhere?”

She did not say anything about him becoming an Honorary Britannian.

“I won’t be actively deployed until I turn sixteen, at least. The army does take guardianship--”

“What about school? You don’t even have a certificate or diploma yet!” Angela-san seemed to be concerned that he was not going to get an education.

“That’s all right for a career soldier, I guess--”

“Where did you learn that term? It’s one step up from being a mercenary!” But she was hopping mad though. They were speaking Britannian--which was a much easier language to be angry in than Japanese. Every clipped syllable served to emphasise her displeasure, which was not--strangely enough--directed his way. “And you’re trying to advance a career in the Britannian military?”

He tried to read her with the Geass then--even though he had been determined not to. If there was anything he could say or do to make it easier--

Suzaku could only see the questions in her eyes. Did I influence him in any way? Is this my doing? Where did I go wrong? What the hell is he doing?

And it was then that he finally realised the limitation of the witch's gift.

When looking at Angela-san, he was blind to the threads around her. What she would do. What was going to happen after he left.

Suzaku could not see the paths around the people he was close to, for his own was entangled with theirs and his actions would inevitably--invariably--influence them.

So he was left with only his paltry wits and stunted instincts when faced with situations and people that mattered. He almost wished that she would swear at him instead of asking him probing questions about his motivations and looking at him with worried eyes. It would have been easier--for him.

Suzaku could hear C.C.’s voice in his head still.

The Power of Kings will isolate you . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The only way to cope with this, the witch had discovered over the long years that stretched into centuries, was to withdraw. It was not her they were poking with their hard science and their equally hard tools. It was not her who was trapped and separated from her designated acceptor.

If you were no-one, no-one could hurt you.

Their methods were not so crude now. In the past, soul searching was very, very literal and invasive in the extreme. They did not believe in witches now, so there were no stakes and no racks involved. Just cold machines and their endless tests.

In her own world, the witch waited. She could be patient for a little while longer. That Geass she had given to the boy . . . might prove useful in a situation like this. It would just take some time for their paths to cross again and she did not doubt that it would be soon.

He would have to move soon--the Geass would force him to eventually. All she had to do was wait.

The witch had plenty of practice at waiting.

* * * * * * * * * * * *