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“By no means can you borrow my costume for a contest, witch!”
“But the winner gets a lifetime supply of pizza, boy. Don’t you understand? A lifetime’s worth! That’s infinite pizza for me.”
Lelouch carefully considered the situation presented to him. If C.C. was to take his Zero costume to the contest and win, his credit card company would leave him alone about his pizza spending, and so would C.C.. If he didn’t, he would continue to be in debt, and the witch would continue her habits. Even scarier, she might increase her spending habits. Lelouch had both bills to pay and a revolution to run–two very expensive endeavors that were beginning to be thwarted by pizza.
By no means would the likes of pizza be the very thing that ruined the toppling of the Britannian Empire.
“Fine. Go. But if I end up needing it, you’re to give it back. Immediately.”
C.C. nodded, and then excitedly hustled to Lelouch’s closet. That witch. Why couldn’t she just go as herself ? Witches were a Halloween costume, were they not? If she was looking for something genuine, why not go as herself?
“Oh, by the way, your sister is in on this, too. She’s coming with me.”
…And that, of all things, seemed to be the dealbreaker.
“What do you mean, ‘she’s coming with you?’ Nunnally hates pizza!”
“But they are also giving out one hundred pounds of candy as a second place prize. Nunnally likes candy.”
“She’s going to get so many cavities!”
“Your maid, Sayoko, condoned it.”
Lelouch heads to the doorway, livid. “I’m going to speak with her immediately.”
As he is about to leave, his younger sister wheels to the doorway with haste. Her legs, crossed together in her wheelchair, are wrapped with a purple holographic tail, and her wheelchair is decorated with a back that makes it look like a clamshell. Her hair is dyed a purple ombre at the ends, curled into beach waves. Her Halloween costume had come out marvelously.
“But big brother, I want to go! I’m so excited! Miss C.C. and Miss Sayoko will take care of me just fine, and I’ll have my phone on me! Please don’t worry.”
Lelouch hesitated, stink-eyeing C.C. in the corner of the room. That manipulative witch! She would do anything for pizza, even if it meant convincing Nunnally to go along with his schemes.
“You promise that you want to go? That C.C. isn’t putting you up to this!”
“I do! In fact, I heard about it on the radio. I just told Miss C.C. just now!”
If the costume contest was C.C.’s idea, he would have been completely against the notion of them going together. But if it was, in fact, Nunnally’s idea…
“Okay, fine. You can go. Just be safe, okay?”
/ /
Lelouch hated Halloween.
He’s always celebrated as it had been Nunnally and Euphie’s favorite holiday as kids, but he himself was never a fan. He found the notion of dressing up in ridiculous costumes and pretending to be someone you are not to be tiring and quite frivolous. Granted, he now pretended to be someone he wasn’t all seven days of the week for the past eight years–and, as of recent, his main extracurricular activity included him dressing up in an ostentatious, identity-concealing costume–but this was different. Halloween was different as he didn’t need to change himself for the sake of concealment; rather, people did this for fun.
He found no fun in this. Especially this.
Milly had dragged him and the rest of the student council (sans a ‘sick’ Kallen, who was known to not be a Halloween fan either), off to a party just off of Ashford’s campus. Given that he was home alone, Milly bestowed it upon herself to get her poor Lulu out of the house–even if it meant blackmailing him into dressing up and joining the rest of the council at the party.
There was no way he was letting those pictures from the Cross-Dressing Festival get leaked, Halloween be damned.
Thus, his night had taken a turn for the worse, and now he was inside some stranger’s mansion with one hundred-something fellow Ashford students, dressed as a poorly-put together vampire. He was just wearing a fancy-looking outfit with vampire teeth and fake blood smeared all over his face, put together in a span of ten minutes, due to Milly’s influence. She, dressed as a more put-together vampire, insisted that the two were to match–blood smears and all.
Milly hands him a glass of jungle juice, but Lelouch does not grab it.
“I’m not drinking, Milly.”
“But why not? You might have a good tiiiiiime,” she said in an attenuated, sing-song voice. She was such a pushover, but Lelouch was even more stubborn.
“Do you think I would be a good example for Nunnally if I came home drunk? She went out tonight, and I don’t want her to think that I went drinking because I was mad at or worried for her. You know how she worries–”
“Lelouch, you’re thinking too much into a cup of jungle juice. Besides…” she said, forcing it into his hands. “I already pouuuured ittttt!”
Begrudgingly, Lelouch grabbed the cup. He and Milly begin their trek through the house to find the others, passing through hoards of people dressed in minimal clothing wearing animal headbands. He scowled at the lack of costume creativity.
This was another reason he hated Halloween: people came up with the most unoriginal ideas for costumes. There was no need for dozens of sexy cats and sexy rabbits–especially when the said “costumes” only consisted of a unitard and headband. At least with a tail or maybe some whiskers, the costumes would look more recognizable, but it seemed that everyone happened to omit these pivotal accessories.
Hey, at least Lelouch kept in the vampire teeth.
Milly shoots up a hand to wave to a group in the back of the room, consisting of…what would you know, a sexy cat (Shirley), a sexy rabbit (Nina), and…perhaps the worst yet costume he had seen all day.
Rivalz was wearing a banana costume, but the costume company made a grave error. Instead of being peeled from the top down, it was from the bottom up, revealing a raw, girthy, smooth, pale fruit protruding from under the peel.
“Hiya Lelouch! Cool party, huh?”
Lelouch downs the jungle juice. He hated Halloween.
/ / /
After explaining to Rivalz the innuendo of his banana costume, the Student Council made their way to the impromptu dance floor, complete with a student DJ (dressed as a poorly stitched Zero costume, of all things) playing god awful, self-written EDM music. As the others made their way into the dance circle, Lelouch separated from the group and stood near a table, the entirety of its surface area scattered with vodka shots. He leans on the nearest wall, his eyes searching for his friends in the dance circle.
Expecting to see Milly, the vampire countess, in the center, instead he saw…
Oh god. Why?
A female student wearing a purple wig and red lingerie twerked to the electronic music playing from DJ Zero’s speaker system. Although otherwise indistinctive, the royal insignia printed on her cleavage suggested that the twerker was dressed as none other than…
Lelouch takes a shot, distracting himself from the offensive sight of his elder sister being made into a “sexy” costume. He thought Rivalz’s penis/banana situation would prove to be the the worst costume of the evening, but…it was ultimately surpassed. God. He hated Halloween.
Distracting himself by texting Sayoko about his sister’s evening, Lelouch doesn’t catch the appearance of the newest starlet of the dance floor until he hears an all-too familiar chant circle around the room.
“ALL MEN AREN’T CREATED EQUAL! ALL MEN AREN’T CREATED EQUAL! ALL MEN AREN’T CREATED EQUAL!”
He turns his attention back to the dance floor to find…arguably the worst thing he’s ever witnessed in years.
How has his life led to this exact point, of seeing someone dressed as not just his father, the Emperor of Brittania, dancing provocatively on the dance floor, but instead a version of his father without pants? The man seemed to just be wearing a translucent pair of booty shorts and a cape with distinct similarities to the Emperor’s suit jacket, a clip-on beard and powdered wig. He also happened to be grinding provocatively on someone…dressed as an upside-down banana…
Lelouch grabbed the entire bottle of Tito’s off the counter. It was going to be a long night.
/ / / /
Milly hadn’t been to a good party in a while.
Then tonight happened, and…wow. What a night! Between the drinks and the dancing and all else that had happened (who knew that the slutty Emperor of Brittania could kiss like that?), she was…tired. She partied perhaps a bit too hard tonight, but at least she was not without her friends by her side.
At least, most of them were.
Even in her drunken state, she still cared that Lelouch was having a good time, all things considered. The poor boy never went out to parties; he really never did any normal high school things, even. He was always out gambling or taking care of his sister in some capacity, always stressed underneath his lackadaisical persona. She wondered how much of it was actually gambling and not…
She stopped her train of thought.
No, there was no way Lelouch could be involved with the terrorist groups vying to reoccupy Japan. Of course, he most absolutely sympathized with their causes (from what Milly could infer) but to actually be an active member…there was no way. Not after Zero killed his brother.
Speaking of which…
“I’m sorry…” she asked one of the two men currently in her presence at the time being. She and Shirley had been heading back over to the drinks bar (despite Shirley swearing to stay adamantly sober throughout the night), when they were approached by two men dressed as a pair of well-dressed zombies, attempting to flirt with them. The two were wearing ostentatious regal-like clothing, demolished with dirt, blood, and rips. Their faces, although otherwise handsome, were patterned with bruises and fake cuts. Milly was all into it, but Shirley just wished to grab another glass of cola.
“...Who are you supposed to be, again?”
“Oh, sorry,” the dark-haired hunk slid his hand from Milly’s shoulder to her bosom. “We’re going as the dead princes of Brittania. He’s Prince Clovis, and I’m Prince Lelouch. Creative, right?”
Milly’s eyes were about to bulge out of her skull.
“...Yeah, on that note, I have to go. My friend here needs to refill her drink.”
Skipping the chaos of the awkward conversation she would have with Lelouch the next morning about hooking up with his zombified counterpart, Milly grabs Shirley by the arm to the bar. As the two egress the room, Shirley stops in her tracks, whispering to Milly.
“Is that…Lulu?”
“What!” She exclaims, in a hysterical manner. “What? No way, no. Lelouch and the dead prince might have the same name and look alike, but theyaren’tthesamepersonnoway–”
“Huh? What are you talking about? I mean, over there. There’s some guy slumped in that corner that kind of looks like Lulu.”
And there Lelouch was, vampire costume and all, crying in the corner of the room, clutching a half-empty bottle of vodka. The two girls approach him.
“Lelouch, get up! What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
His eyes were glossed over, sensitive to the lights in the room. He huddles his face in the dark corner he inhabited, his tears falling into the open vodka bottle.
“Stupid…stupid sexy dad costume…”
This is both the first time Milly had ever heard Lelouch refer to his father, the Emperor of Brittania, the man he had come to hate with a firing passion as dad, as well as the first time she had ever seen him drunk.
“Why was he here?” He questions, his voice slurred. “Why was he…his buttcheeks… ”
“Lelouch, we need to get you home. Now,” she scolds, apprehensive about him blurting out words that had to do with his dad. “Can you stand?”
“I don’t…know, can I?”
Lelouch attempts to stand, but his knees grow wobbly and he falls back to the ground, kicking over his prized bottle of vodka. The former prince did not seem to notice, however, and attempted to stand back up; if it wasn’t for Milly and Shirley supporting him from each shoulder, he likely wouldn’t have.
“Shirley, we need to get him home. He’s too drunk.”
“I didn’t know the Vice President drank! I thought he said that it was bad for his liver!”
“My liver is fine! It’ll forgive me. You know what I won’t forgive though?”
He waits for the two girls to answer, and then said the punchline to his joke.
“Witches who steal. My. Credit. Card.”
Shirley, behind Lelouch’s head, shoots Milly a whisper.
“Do you know what he’s talking about?”
Milly shakes her head. The two continue escorting Lelouch from the dance floor and to the main foyer of the house. It is here where they run into Rivalz, the resident banana man.
“Riv, we’re leaving,” the president scolds. “We need to put Lelouch to bed.”
Rivalz takes a long, hard look at his best friend. He was foaming at the mouth and covered in his own sweat.
“Oh god Lelouch, what happened to not drinking?”
“I…am a man of miracles, not of the…” he belches “...the…truth.”
Rivalz blinked. “Yeah, let’s get him home.”
“Wait! But what about Nina?” Shirley interjected.
“Well, she left about thirty minutes ago to go hook up with some chick dressed as Princess Euphemia–”
“–I want…” Lelouch interrupts, “to go…home.”
/ / / / /
“I hate…Halloween…” A semi-conscious Lelouch murmured as he was escorted down the street by Rivalz and Shirley. Milly, not wanting to leave Nina by herself at the party, went to go find her friend and update her on their situation, leaving Rivalz and Shirley with the daunting task of getting the ever-so stubborn Lelouch to listen to them. Of course, they wished to do all they could to help their drunk friend; however, listening to the boy complain on-end was getting frustrating.
“Don’t tell Nunnally…about this…guys.” He belches. “She’ll get realy…diss-dissapointed…”
` “Yeah yeah, we promised not to tell her already five minutes ago, Lelouch. You said you’d use your ‘magic eye powers’ to make us shut up already,” Rivalz’s taunts the incredulous remarks made by his friend.
“And don’t tell Suza…ku either. He…he might tell Euphy, and then she’ll know that I’m alive…”
Rivalz, nodding along to his best friend’s nonsense words, continued walking along beset with the goal to never let Lelouch live down this moment, ever. That was, until he started fully processing the words, and…
“Who’s… Euphy ?” Said Shirley, sputtering out the princess’s well-known nickname with a smear of apprehension. She knew as well as anyone that Suzaku was close to the princess, but for Lelouch to say her name so familiarly like that…
“I can’t telllll you! It’s a really big seeeeeecret!”
God, drunk Lelouch was so annoying.
“What, man? You have a crush on the princess?”
“–NO! That’s gross! I would never have a crush on Euphy. She’s family !”
Rivalz and Shirley stopped walking.
“Family? Huh?” Rivalz never recalled Lelouch ever saying anything about having any other family than Nunnally. Of course, he would sometimes off-handedly mention his dead mother, but never anything more than that.
“She’s my…other younger…sister,” Lelouch says, well-aware of the shock factor. “I…might actually have…more other younger sisters. But I…I never met them. Family’s better off without…me.” Lelouch untangles himself from the arms of his two friends, standing upright. He puts two of his fingers to his friend’s mouths, saying “ssh…don’t tell…tell anyone this. It’s a really big secret…I changed Nunna…Nunna and I’s…names to hide,” he says, his speech slurring fast with him standing up. “Only Milly…and the Ashfords know…big secret…government conspiracy…”
Shirley gabs Lelouch from behind, seeing that he is about to fall. Standing him back upright, she and Rivalz go back to holding him up by each side. This, of course, does not stop Rivalz from inquiring.
“If your name isn’t Lelouch…then…”
“Oh…my name…is Lelouch, still. It’s my last name that’s different. And my titles.” The boy paused. “Lamp…er…rouge. Red lamp. There was a red…lamp in my old bedroom…at Suzaku’s…old house…”
Titles? He lived with Suzaku? Rivalz had so many questions, yet whenever he asked for an answer, he was met with just more questions. He was almost sure that Lelouch had been lying, as he had been all day, but he was quenched for curiosity.
“You’re a noble? Since when?”
“Negative eight…” Lelouch did some mental math in his head, “years ago, when I…told the Emperor,” he says this name with a hint of disdain, “that I didn’t…want them anymore. That I was…I was done, Rivalz. I was done with it all.”
“What’s your real name, then, Lelouch?” He asked in a half-joking manner, hoping to get the hilarious name of a long-dead noble such as Count Benjamin Franklin. Or perhaps he was the dead Sir Ricardo von Brittania, or…
“Lelouch…” he said in between dramatic pauses. “Vi…Britannia.”
Shirley, thinking back to her prior conversation with Milly, drops Lelouch on the sidewalk out of pure shock.