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Code Geass, "A Clever Disguise/Romance"
All the words she never said, all the things she never did, come back to haunt her in the end. Turning the clock backwards only reveals every little mistake.
This was written with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
10_switched in mind. That means genderswap. You've been warned! Also this is terribly depressing as far as Valentines' fic goes, so uh. Enjoy.
.a clever disguise: romance.
Leloucia armed the needle gun, expression blank beneath her mask, gloved fingers meticulously readying the weapon for Euphemia's graceful hands.
It was perhaps inevitable that three sisters reunited for the first time in eight years would want to talk about romance. Euphemia started it, unthinkingly, by suddenly asking, "Do either of you have anyone that you're interested in? Like a boy, or-- Oh, Leloucia--"
"Lelouch," she corrected, with a quick glance at the rest of the festival. First Suzaku and now Euphemia seemed determined to have her cover blown.
"--I'm sorry, I guess you couldn't be dating anyone while in disguise like that." And she did look remorseful, even reaching out to clasp one of Leloucia's hands in hers apologetically. Leloucia squeezed her lightly in reassurance, to let the younger girl know that she had not been offended.
Nunnally said serenely, "My sister keeps saying she isn't interested in that sort of thing. But I still wonder if she's keeping something secret from me..." She smiled playfully, tilting her head towards Leloucia.
I'm a terrorist. I'm not secretly dating anyone and I'm definitely not secretly dating C.C. But Nunnally was far too good of a girl to imply her suspicion that Leloucia was interested in other women. And Euphy suddenly had developed an uncomfortable look, knowing slightly better what that secret might be.
"Not interested," Leloucia repeated firmly. Nunnally held out a hand expectantly for one of hers, as if asking her to prove it, and she pretended not to notice. "Nunnally isn't seeing anyone either. Although I recall she's been coming home from school with a particular boy lately..."
"Stephen is my chemistry partner," Nunnally said with firm disapproval.
"I know. I wouldn't be joking about it if I thought you really were dating him."
Euphemia muffled a giggle with her hand, and said fondly, "I've missed you two so much."
Nunnally leaned forward. "What about you, Euphy? Is there a boy you're interested in?"
She said it so confidently, so knowingly. Euphemia blushed and looked down at the ground, suddenly shy, and Leloucia realized that it would be frighteningly easy to say You aren't interested in anyone, right, Euphy? and neither of them would ever be the wiser when Euphy agreed. Leloucia let her gaze flicker away, not wanting any trace of that terrible thought to be recognized by her sisters.
"There is... someone," Euphy said, tangling her fingers together. "I haven't directly told him yet, but... But I think I have a chance."
Euphemia smiled at them, so excited she was practically glowing, the very picture of a young girl in love. Just being reminded of it was enough to make her beam with what she felt for him. It was what it should be like.
"I'm happy for you," was all Leloucia said, sincerely, because Euphemia being happy made her happy.
"Oh, you're gorgeous," Euphemia said, completely straight-faced even though they were both bedraggled and crusted with seasalt. "Look at how thin you are! You're -- you're svelte!" She pronounced the word impulsively, as if it had just jumped to mind.
"Euphy!" Leloucia interrupted in a strangled voice, batting her hands away. "Don't be ridiculous!"
"I mean it!" She did, lavender eyes shining with admiration. "I wish I had your figure..."
Leloucia had rarely been complimented in a way that acknowledged her as female and even though she would certainly have agreed that she was beautiful and slender she didn't take it well, becoming more flustered. Probably the way Euphy kept trying to get a better look at her around the protective shield of her clothing held in front of her wasn't helping. She's worse than Suzaku, she thought, and so she sounded a little harsh when she snapped, "Of course! I'm sure you'd love to be flat and gangly!"
"You're not flat and gangly," Euphy said, bewildered and maybe a little hurt, but at least it made her back up a step and clutch her soaked pink dress to her chest. "I'm so top-heavy -- I would die for breasts like yours."
With the extremely generous genes that so many of her sisters had inherited, it was baffling to think that Euphemia could've walked away thinking negatively of her proportions. More rationally, Leloucia said, "That's absurd. You're beautiful. Are you saying Cornelia is too top-heavy?"
"Cornelia is more curvy all over. Anyway, you're just saying that because you've always admired Cornelia."
She seemed determined to believe that she was inferior somehow. Leloucia held her damp clothes to her body and made a dismissive sound, glancing away. Of course as a girl she had admired Cornelia, lovely and clever and dangerous, the same way that Cornelia had admired Lady Marianne. And maybe she had compared them and wanted to look like Cornelia, but that had been a long time ago, and right now all of Cornelia's loveliness and cleverness and dangerousness was in her way, directly threatening Leloucia and everything she had struggled to build.
"I really couldn't care less about what Cornelia looks like," she said coolly, and immediately the air between them changed. Euphemia seemed more awkward, glancing down and looking towards the line of trees and then to the water and then back to Leloucia, reluctantly.
"...you should wear your hair longer," she offered.
Were they still talking about appearances? Leloucia sighed. "I've been in disguise as a man," she said evenly. "I can't just wear my hair as long as I want."
Euphemia's eyes widened, surprised. "As Zero?"
"As a student," Leloucia corrected.
It didn't have the intended effect, showing her how serious this was and how uninterested she was in talking about looks. It didn't even make Euphy ask the more important questions, like did you try to kidnap my knight because you know him from school, and why did he save you when he saved himself, and why did you do that to him.
Instead, Euphemia took a few steps forward and took her by the wrist, tugging. "Let's go over to the trees and get out of the sun. You're so fair, you'll probably burn. And you can tell me all about what it's like to live as a boy!"
Leloucia let herself be lead over to the canopy, thinking all the while that she should've hated Euphemia.
She should've hated her.
She should've hated her.
They broadcast the whole ceremony, including the meaningless traditional opening statements that no one was interested in, not even the nobles who were crowded neck-deep in the chamber, each of them breathless to see the dog that Euphemia had pronounced her knight. No doubt they were all wondering if he would do something savage. He might snarl warningly when she lowered the blade to his shoulders. Or perhaps he would fumble the sword as he held it. Or -- heavens forbid! -- he might even speak Britannian with an accent.
Leloucia smoothed her hands over her bare calves, leaning forward and letting hair fall over her shoulders. She was watching the broadcast on her laptop, and its cold video was the only light; otherwise her bedroom was dark, and comfortable, a coffin for something, and she had curled in on herself in her desk chair. But hidden in the vulnerable pose her expression was like steel, her gaze fixed and cold.
She didn't know what she felt right now. Maybe she hated him; maybe she hated herself; maybe she hated them all, the whole lot of them, Charles and Cornelia and Schneizel and his precious envoy and Britannia.
"You're not going to sleep when this is done, are you?" C.C. predicted simply from where she was already tucked in peacefully in Leloucia's bed.
"...No." How could she sleep with her thoughts whirling like this? When she couldn't stop thinking about everything that she'd done wrong, everything that she'd miscalculated, everything she had sacrificed without ever even realizing? When she couldn't stop thinking about Suzaku and Euphemia, bound forever?
C.C. made a sulky sound, turning under the covers to face away from the other girl. "I cleaned the pizza boxes off the bed for you," she muttered, though Leloucia didn't hear or care.
It was such a powerful thing, to be someone's knight. Intimate and precious. A royal knight was more than a mere bodyguard: he or she was someone whose loyalty had been paid for long ago and would never falter; more vital to a Britannian princess than any husband. Most royalty never found a knight they wanted to fill such a meaningful position with them, and most knights never found royalty for whom they would sacrifice a life or a family of their own.
Once upon a time, Suzaku had wanted to be her knight. Leloucia remembered lecturing him, oh so superior, that as vital as a knight might be, he was a servant, and she did not need him to be her servant. That had been the end of that.
Maybe she hadn't made herself clear.
Suzaku looked good in his uniform as he appeared. The white suited him, she realized with a painful tightness in her chest. She had hated it all along, but it made him look like a noble, a prince. A hero. It looked right.
He paced up to Euphemia with his face set in solemn lines, and her expression was the same; portentous, heavy. This was a significant moment for them both, swearing their lives to each other.
If Leloucia had a gun in her hand right now, she didn't know if she could be held accountable for her actions. As it was, she couldn't promise that she would be able to contain herself when she was actually seeing it in front of her eyes, some tableau from her nightmares. She could throw the laptop out a window. Scream. Or maybe she wouldn't do anything at all.
She was so good at that.
Everyone was talking about Princess Euphemia's knight when Leloucia got to school the next morning, so she was very happy to run track by herself during phys ed. If she skipped she would just be expected to socialize with others, whereas everyone in gym class understood that she wanted to be left alone as she trailed far behind the others, letting them literally run circles around her. Exercise was not her forte, so she panted and struggled and tried to ignore the burning in her limbs and her chest as she jogged lamely around the track.
No one was talking about Toudou or the Black Knights raid. Everyone was talking about Suzaku, and Euphemia. They cast a cynical light on her decision to appoint him, starting rumors that they were lovers, that he had seduced her, that he was getting above his place.
Phys ed was actually welcome, since it focused her elsewhere and she was sick and tired of thinking. She had spent so much of last night thinking -- shaking and staring blankly at the console of her KMF, feeling horrified and then horribly amused by the whole hateful incident -- coming home to hear the joyful news of Suzaku's appointment from her sister, and then pacing half the night away while C.C. watched her mutedly with covers pulled up over her nose.
Suzaku was the pilot of the white Knightmare.
Suzaku was to be Euphemia's knight.
"Leloucia?"
She gasped and stumbled, but a quick steadying hand shot out to catch her arm and keep her on her feet. Suzaku's worried green eyes were on her when she looked up. "Are you okay? You didn't even notice me coming up behind you, you must be really distracted."
"I'm -- in gym, of course -- I'm not paying attention." She was panting, trying not to look at him. Her ankle hurt from the near fall and she felt oddly vulnerable, caught thinking about him when today he was a different person than he had been yesterday. "And you -- don't you have things to do? You're a knight, aren't you?"
Leloucia tried to tug her arm back, but he wouldn't let her, grip unyielding even though his expression was sheepish. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but -- I knew you wouldn't approve."
She couldn't seem to catch her breath. She shook her head and tugged again, stepping back and wincing at the pressure on her foot.
"What's wrong?"
"N... nothing. I twisted my ankle a little when I tripped."
Suzaku ducked down, keeping her balance easily with one hand while the other lifted her foot. Leloucia started to flush red, thinking about Suzaku's warm touch, his warm concern, fingers tracing her skin -- she had to work to swallow. But it hurt, and then Suzaku stood again, frowning.
"It might be sprained. I'm going to take you to the nurse."
Before she could even react to that he had scooped her up, right there on the field in front of a hundred baffled teenage boys who had never seen one of them carried like a bride to the wedding suite. Leloucia gasped and then immediately was forced to resort to flailing, trying to elbow him, get him to loosen his hold on her. He was going to blow her cover--
"Suzaku!" she hissed. "I'm supposed to be a boy!"
"So?" he said implacably. "You're a boy who doesn't weigh all that much."
"Stop-- Help me, don't carry me! Stop!"
Suzaku smiled at her, ignoring her protests and starting to stride off the field. Leloucia continued to struggle, but she was aware that she wouldn't make a dent in his determination. He had always been like that: stupid subconscious Japanese sexism, making something of the difference in their genders even though he would have claimed to be a liberated modern man.
...Gallant, almost. And when she finally went limp in his arms and closed her eyes against tears of frustration, so much frustration, she could feel his strength and his warmth against her body, dizzy with the scent of him and the futility of it all.
Leloucia had never seen him like this. It was like looking at one of her own nightmares -- Suzaku, normally so noble and good and bright, struggling with despair, dealing with grief that she had inadvertently caused him. If she could go back and kill Mao a dozen times, and erase the memory of this moment from both of their minds, she knew that she would.
"Suzaku," Leloucia murmured, taking a hesitant step forward, and then stopped.
He was shaking so violently she could see it. But she didn't know what to say.
It'll be alright? It wouldn't. It wasn't something that could so easily be erased. I don't care? But he cared. He was all but broken with the memory of it. I'm going to kill my father too? Somehow she doubted that that would reassure him.
"I understand," she said, finally, and glanced away. Then she felt compelled to keep talking, as if words would fix anything. "You were betrayed -- you acted impulsively on what you thought was best. And that old man... Kirihara. He encouraged you to keep it a secret, made up a story for everyone's sake."
Leloucia couldn't say if he heard her, but slowly he seemed to be coming back to himself, bit by bit. He hadn't moved, but the shaking was easing. She wondered if she could have made things easier for him by not clinging so eagerly to the past.
She had spent years cursing herself for not kissing him when they parted ways for what she thought had been the last time; if they were never to see each other again, why not? But when they had met a few weeks ago, when she saw that fond nostalgic smile on his face as he took off his helmet, she had been so glad she hadn't done anything that would change this.
...but things had changed. She had noticed every little change. All that time he had been shouldering this burden and she had never asked when he had gotten so serious, so self-sacrificing. Never asked how he started feeling differently. She had been afraid of changing anything.
Such a coward.
Leloucia whispered, "It was what had to be done. Everything would have fallen apart if people had known."
How long had he been waiting for someone to hate him for what he'd done?
Suzaku took an unsteady breath that seemed endlessly loud in the church. Finally, he managed a hoarse, "Thank you." But he was still waiting, and she still didn't know what to say, and she was still a coward.
That was when she started to think. Suzaku needed something to live for. Something to make him feel useful, valuable. To let him make amends for what he had done instead of shoving it aside. And even though she was scared -- even though it was different -- even though it wasn't what she'd wanted -- if it would make him feel better...
At school, he put on his smiling face, pretending nothing was wrong, very wrong. She had a plan; a logical, rational plan. But she cursed herself for not finding the courage to hug him, to hold him and tell him that all logic aside, she didn't care; it would be alright; he wasn't alone.
It took a long time for them to become friends. At first, she didn't trust him, and Nunnally didn't trust him, but he was like a puppy; too persistent, too curious, to understand where he wasn't wanted. And in time Nunnally warmed up to him, slowly starting to smile and laugh again for someone other than Leloucia. Bit by bit her panic attacks when left alone began to fade, and as she saw Nunnally starting to open up, then Leloucia, too, slowly allowed him into her world.
That wasn't enough for him, of course. There was always something else.
"Can I go to the market with you?" he asked, eyes wide and excited. Going shopping was far from the most exciting task in the world, but he pursued it with a passion, helping her to find the best vegetables and carrying back more than his fair share of bags.
"We should go fishing!" he insisted, already holding three fishing rods and a bucket of bait. He was always after them to try this or that, everything he wanted to do he wanted to do with them, as if there wasn't nearly as much satisfaction in doing the things he loved when alone.
"I got these kimono for you, so you can get dressed up for the festival!" he said, draping beautiful silk over Nunnally's arms so that she could feel it for herself. The kimono that he held out for Leloucia was elegant, not girlish at all, not tomboyish the way she always dressed now, but mature and dainty and beautiful.
"Let me carry Nunnally up the steps for once!" he demanded, again and again and again. "I'm stronger and the stairs are really hard for you! Come on, Leloucia!"
Until finally she let him take Nunnally up the stairs. It was the first time, and he had been so stupidly proud of himself, grinning like an idiot the whole way up. Leloucia lagged behind, watching while Suzaku talked gently to the broken little girl, making jokes so that she would laugh and holding her high on his back with such care.
And Leloucia thought, He's so wonderful, and the thought made heat rise in her face.
She knew why.
And she never did anything about it.
This was written with
10_switched in mind. That means genderswap. You've been warned! Also this is terribly depressing as far as Valentines' fic goes, so uh. Enjoy..a clever disguise: romance.
Leloucia armed the needle gun, expression blank beneath her mask, gloved fingers meticulously readying the weapon for Euphemia's graceful hands.
It was perhaps inevitable that three sisters reunited for the first time in eight years would want to talk about romance. Euphemia started it, unthinkingly, by suddenly asking, "Do either of you have anyone that you're interested in? Like a boy, or-- Oh, Leloucia--"
"Lelouch," she corrected, with a quick glance at the rest of the festival. First Suzaku and now Euphemia seemed determined to have her cover blown.
"--I'm sorry, I guess you couldn't be dating anyone while in disguise like that." And she did look remorseful, even reaching out to clasp one of Leloucia's hands in hers apologetically. Leloucia squeezed her lightly in reassurance, to let the younger girl know that she had not been offended.
Nunnally said serenely, "My sister keeps saying she isn't interested in that sort of thing. But I still wonder if she's keeping something secret from me..." She smiled playfully, tilting her head towards Leloucia.
I'm a terrorist. I'm not secretly dating anyone and I'm definitely not secretly dating C.C. But Nunnally was far too good of a girl to imply her suspicion that Leloucia was interested in other women. And Euphy suddenly had developed an uncomfortable look, knowing slightly better what that secret might be.
"Not interested," Leloucia repeated firmly. Nunnally held out a hand expectantly for one of hers, as if asking her to prove it, and she pretended not to notice. "Nunnally isn't seeing anyone either. Although I recall she's been coming home from school with a particular boy lately..."
"Stephen is my chemistry partner," Nunnally said with firm disapproval.
"I know. I wouldn't be joking about it if I thought you really were dating him."
Euphemia muffled a giggle with her hand, and said fondly, "I've missed you two so much."
Nunnally leaned forward. "What about you, Euphy? Is there a boy you're interested in?"
She said it so confidently, so knowingly. Euphemia blushed and looked down at the ground, suddenly shy, and Leloucia realized that it would be frighteningly easy to say You aren't interested in anyone, right, Euphy? and neither of them would ever be the wiser when Euphy agreed. Leloucia let her gaze flicker away, not wanting any trace of that terrible thought to be recognized by her sisters.
"There is... someone," Euphy said, tangling her fingers together. "I haven't directly told him yet, but... But I think I have a chance."
Euphemia smiled at them, so excited she was practically glowing, the very picture of a young girl in love. Just being reminded of it was enough to make her beam with what she felt for him. It was what it should be like.
"I'm happy for you," was all Leloucia said, sincerely, because Euphemia being happy made her happy.
"Oh, you're gorgeous," Euphemia said, completely straight-faced even though they were both bedraggled and crusted with seasalt. "Look at how thin you are! You're -- you're svelte!" She pronounced the word impulsively, as if it had just jumped to mind.
"Euphy!" Leloucia interrupted in a strangled voice, batting her hands away. "Don't be ridiculous!"
"I mean it!" She did, lavender eyes shining with admiration. "I wish I had your figure..."
Leloucia had rarely been complimented in a way that acknowledged her as female and even though she would certainly have agreed that she was beautiful and slender she didn't take it well, becoming more flustered. Probably the way Euphy kept trying to get a better look at her around the protective shield of her clothing held in front of her wasn't helping. She's worse than Suzaku, she thought, and so she sounded a little harsh when she snapped, "Of course! I'm sure you'd love to be flat and gangly!"
"You're not flat and gangly," Euphy said, bewildered and maybe a little hurt, but at least it made her back up a step and clutch her soaked pink dress to her chest. "I'm so top-heavy -- I would die for breasts like yours."
With the extremely generous genes that so many of her sisters had inherited, it was baffling to think that Euphemia could've walked away thinking negatively of her proportions. More rationally, Leloucia said, "That's absurd. You're beautiful. Are you saying Cornelia is too top-heavy?"
"Cornelia is more curvy all over. Anyway, you're just saying that because you've always admired Cornelia."
She seemed determined to believe that she was inferior somehow. Leloucia held her damp clothes to her body and made a dismissive sound, glancing away. Of course as a girl she had admired Cornelia, lovely and clever and dangerous, the same way that Cornelia had admired Lady Marianne. And maybe she had compared them and wanted to look like Cornelia, but that had been a long time ago, and right now all of Cornelia's loveliness and cleverness and dangerousness was in her way, directly threatening Leloucia and everything she had struggled to build.
"I really couldn't care less about what Cornelia looks like," she said coolly, and immediately the air between them changed. Euphemia seemed more awkward, glancing down and looking towards the line of trees and then to the water and then back to Leloucia, reluctantly.
"...you should wear your hair longer," she offered.
Were they still talking about appearances? Leloucia sighed. "I've been in disguise as a man," she said evenly. "I can't just wear my hair as long as I want."
Euphemia's eyes widened, surprised. "As Zero?"
"As a student," Leloucia corrected.
It didn't have the intended effect, showing her how serious this was and how uninterested she was in talking about looks. It didn't even make Euphy ask the more important questions, like did you try to kidnap my knight because you know him from school, and why did he save you when he saved himself, and why did you do that to him.
Instead, Euphemia took a few steps forward and took her by the wrist, tugging. "Let's go over to the trees and get out of the sun. You're so fair, you'll probably burn. And you can tell me all about what it's like to live as a boy!"
Leloucia let herself be lead over to the canopy, thinking all the while that she should've hated Euphemia.
She should've hated her.
She should've hated her.
They broadcast the whole ceremony, including the meaningless traditional opening statements that no one was interested in, not even the nobles who were crowded neck-deep in the chamber, each of them breathless to see the dog that Euphemia had pronounced her knight. No doubt they were all wondering if he would do something savage. He might snarl warningly when she lowered the blade to his shoulders. Or perhaps he would fumble the sword as he held it. Or -- heavens forbid! -- he might even speak Britannian with an accent.
Leloucia smoothed her hands over her bare calves, leaning forward and letting hair fall over her shoulders. She was watching the broadcast on her laptop, and its cold video was the only light; otherwise her bedroom was dark, and comfortable, a coffin for something, and she had curled in on herself in her desk chair. But hidden in the vulnerable pose her expression was like steel, her gaze fixed and cold.
She didn't know what she felt right now. Maybe she hated him; maybe she hated herself; maybe she hated them all, the whole lot of them, Charles and Cornelia and Schneizel and his precious envoy and Britannia.
"You're not going to sleep when this is done, are you?" C.C. predicted simply from where she was already tucked in peacefully in Leloucia's bed.
"...No." How could she sleep with her thoughts whirling like this? When she couldn't stop thinking about everything that she'd done wrong, everything that she'd miscalculated, everything she had sacrificed without ever even realizing? When she couldn't stop thinking about Suzaku and Euphemia, bound forever?
C.C. made a sulky sound, turning under the covers to face away from the other girl. "I cleaned the pizza boxes off the bed for you," she muttered, though Leloucia didn't hear or care.
It was such a powerful thing, to be someone's knight. Intimate and precious. A royal knight was more than a mere bodyguard: he or she was someone whose loyalty had been paid for long ago and would never falter; more vital to a Britannian princess than any husband. Most royalty never found a knight they wanted to fill such a meaningful position with them, and most knights never found royalty for whom they would sacrifice a life or a family of their own.
Once upon a time, Suzaku had wanted to be her knight. Leloucia remembered lecturing him, oh so superior, that as vital as a knight might be, he was a servant, and she did not need him to be her servant. That had been the end of that.
Maybe she hadn't made herself clear.
Suzaku looked good in his uniform as he appeared. The white suited him, she realized with a painful tightness in her chest. She had hated it all along, but it made him look like a noble, a prince. A hero. It looked right.
He paced up to Euphemia with his face set in solemn lines, and her expression was the same; portentous, heavy. This was a significant moment for them both, swearing their lives to each other.
If Leloucia had a gun in her hand right now, she didn't know if she could be held accountable for her actions. As it was, she couldn't promise that she would be able to contain herself when she was actually seeing it in front of her eyes, some tableau from her nightmares. She could throw the laptop out a window. Scream. Or maybe she wouldn't do anything at all.
She was so good at that.
Everyone was talking about Princess Euphemia's knight when Leloucia got to school the next morning, so she was very happy to run track by herself during phys ed. If she skipped she would just be expected to socialize with others, whereas everyone in gym class understood that she wanted to be left alone as she trailed far behind the others, letting them literally run circles around her. Exercise was not her forte, so she panted and struggled and tried to ignore the burning in her limbs and her chest as she jogged lamely around the track.
No one was talking about Toudou or the Black Knights raid. Everyone was talking about Suzaku, and Euphemia. They cast a cynical light on her decision to appoint him, starting rumors that they were lovers, that he had seduced her, that he was getting above his place.
Phys ed was actually welcome, since it focused her elsewhere and she was sick and tired of thinking. She had spent so much of last night thinking -- shaking and staring blankly at the console of her KMF, feeling horrified and then horribly amused by the whole hateful incident -- coming home to hear the joyful news of Suzaku's appointment from her sister, and then pacing half the night away while C.C. watched her mutedly with covers pulled up over her nose.
Suzaku was the pilot of the white Knightmare.
Suzaku was to be Euphemia's knight.
"Leloucia?"
She gasped and stumbled, but a quick steadying hand shot out to catch her arm and keep her on her feet. Suzaku's worried green eyes were on her when she looked up. "Are you okay? You didn't even notice me coming up behind you, you must be really distracted."
"I'm -- in gym, of course -- I'm not paying attention." She was panting, trying not to look at him. Her ankle hurt from the near fall and she felt oddly vulnerable, caught thinking about him when today he was a different person than he had been yesterday. "And you -- don't you have things to do? You're a knight, aren't you?"
Leloucia tried to tug her arm back, but he wouldn't let her, grip unyielding even though his expression was sheepish. "I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, but -- I knew you wouldn't approve."
She couldn't seem to catch her breath. She shook her head and tugged again, stepping back and wincing at the pressure on her foot.
"What's wrong?"
"N... nothing. I twisted my ankle a little when I tripped."
Suzaku ducked down, keeping her balance easily with one hand while the other lifted her foot. Leloucia started to flush red, thinking about Suzaku's warm touch, his warm concern, fingers tracing her skin -- she had to work to swallow. But it hurt, and then Suzaku stood again, frowning.
"It might be sprained. I'm going to take you to the nurse."
Before she could even react to that he had scooped her up, right there on the field in front of a hundred baffled teenage boys who had never seen one of them carried like a bride to the wedding suite. Leloucia gasped and then immediately was forced to resort to flailing, trying to elbow him, get him to loosen his hold on her. He was going to blow her cover--
"Suzaku!" she hissed. "I'm supposed to be a boy!"
"So?" he said implacably. "You're a boy who doesn't weigh all that much."
"Stop-- Help me, don't carry me! Stop!"
Suzaku smiled at her, ignoring her protests and starting to stride off the field. Leloucia continued to struggle, but she was aware that she wouldn't make a dent in his determination. He had always been like that: stupid subconscious Japanese sexism, making something of the difference in their genders even though he would have claimed to be a liberated modern man.
...Gallant, almost. And when she finally went limp in his arms and closed her eyes against tears of frustration, so much frustration, she could feel his strength and his warmth against her body, dizzy with the scent of him and the futility of it all.
Leloucia had never seen him like this. It was like looking at one of her own nightmares -- Suzaku, normally so noble and good and bright, struggling with despair, dealing with grief that she had inadvertently caused him. If she could go back and kill Mao a dozen times, and erase the memory of this moment from both of their minds, she knew that she would.
"Suzaku," Leloucia murmured, taking a hesitant step forward, and then stopped.
He was shaking so violently she could see it. But she didn't know what to say.
It'll be alright? It wouldn't. It wasn't something that could so easily be erased. I don't care? But he cared. He was all but broken with the memory of it. I'm going to kill my father too? Somehow she doubted that that would reassure him.
"I understand," she said, finally, and glanced away. Then she felt compelled to keep talking, as if words would fix anything. "You were betrayed -- you acted impulsively on what you thought was best. And that old man... Kirihara. He encouraged you to keep it a secret, made up a story for everyone's sake."
Leloucia couldn't say if he heard her, but slowly he seemed to be coming back to himself, bit by bit. He hadn't moved, but the shaking was easing. She wondered if she could have made things easier for him by not clinging so eagerly to the past.
She had spent years cursing herself for not kissing him when they parted ways for what she thought had been the last time; if they were never to see each other again, why not? But when they had met a few weeks ago, when she saw that fond nostalgic smile on his face as he took off his helmet, she had been so glad she hadn't done anything that would change this.
...but things had changed. She had noticed every little change. All that time he had been shouldering this burden and she had never asked when he had gotten so serious, so self-sacrificing. Never asked how he started feeling differently. She had been afraid of changing anything.
Such a coward.
Leloucia whispered, "It was what had to be done. Everything would have fallen apart if people had known."
How long had he been waiting for someone to hate him for what he'd done?
Suzaku took an unsteady breath that seemed endlessly loud in the church. Finally, he managed a hoarse, "Thank you." But he was still waiting, and she still didn't know what to say, and she was still a coward.
That was when she started to think. Suzaku needed something to live for. Something to make him feel useful, valuable. To let him make amends for what he had done instead of shoving it aside. And even though she was scared -- even though it was different -- even though it wasn't what she'd wanted -- if it would make him feel better...
At school, he put on his smiling face, pretending nothing was wrong, very wrong. She had a plan; a logical, rational plan. But she cursed herself for not finding the courage to hug him, to hold him and tell him that all logic aside, she didn't care; it would be alright; he wasn't alone.
It took a long time for them to become friends. At first, she didn't trust him, and Nunnally didn't trust him, but he was like a puppy; too persistent, too curious, to understand where he wasn't wanted. And in time Nunnally warmed up to him, slowly starting to smile and laugh again for someone other than Leloucia. Bit by bit her panic attacks when left alone began to fade, and as she saw Nunnally starting to open up, then Leloucia, too, slowly allowed him into her world.
That wasn't enough for him, of course. There was always something else.
"Can I go to the market with you?" he asked, eyes wide and excited. Going shopping was far from the most exciting task in the world, but he pursued it with a passion, helping her to find the best vegetables and carrying back more than his fair share of bags.
"We should go fishing!" he insisted, already holding three fishing rods and a bucket of bait. He was always after them to try this or that, everything he wanted to do he wanted to do with them, as if there wasn't nearly as much satisfaction in doing the things he loved when alone.
"I got these kimono for you, so you can get dressed up for the festival!" he said, draping beautiful silk over Nunnally's arms so that she could feel it for herself. The kimono that he held out for Leloucia was elegant, not girlish at all, not tomboyish the way she always dressed now, but mature and dainty and beautiful.
"Let me carry Nunnally up the steps for once!" he demanded, again and again and again. "I'm stronger and the stairs are really hard for you! Come on, Leloucia!"
Until finally she let him take Nunnally up the stairs. It was the first time, and he had been so stupidly proud of himself, grinning like an idiot the whole way up. Leloucia lagged behind, watching while Suzaku talked gently to the broken little girl, making jokes so that she would laugh and holding her high on his back with such care.
And Leloucia thought, He's so wonderful, and the thought made heat rise in her face.
She knew why.
And she never did anything about it.
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ANYHOW, ummm, since I think this is my first time commenting on one of these, I might as well say thaaaaaaaaat I normally have tremendously mixed feelings about the idea of a girl!Lelouch, BUT I absolutely adore everything you've written for this challenge so far. You do a wonderful job of exploring how Lelouch being female does and doesn't change the story of CG, and I love the how each relationship Leloucia has with the rest of the cast is subtly shifted/not shifted in particular. This... chapter, story, segment, Idk what is a perfect example of that.
Um, so. Please keep up the good work. o/ And Happy Valentine's Day!
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Right now 90% of what I'm writing is pretty standard, especially since the cross-dressing (while interesting on a personal level) makes "Lelouch" the same. But things really start going astray in another piece or two when I get to R2, so I hope you continue to read, and enjoy. :D And even if you don't, just -- thanks!
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A Clever Disguise/Romance
Can't wait for the next one, and I'm glad to hear things will be different when you get to R2....I liked the first few episodes of R2 but my enthusiam for it kind of tippered off around episode 8 or so, but I still watched it for the same reasons I watched Gundam SEED Destiny..to see favorite charaters back again in action. Or in Lelouch's case not so much ACTION as in tactics..action is Suzaku's department.
But I'm interested in how things will change and how they will stay the same.
Oh and I've got to ask where did you get those wonderful Leloucia/Lulu icons you use for your posts and around your livejournal or are you an artist as well as a writer...my favorite one is of Leloucia in the Ashford s' uniform.