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“Do you know why I have summoned you here today, Kururugi?” The Emperor boomed.
“No, Your Highness. Forgive me.”
There was a slight rustle as the Emperor stroked his beard, but Suzaku kept his head down to avoid the uncannily familiar eyes that he could feel boring through him.
“Your ambition and loyalty are to be admired, Kururugi. For you to crush weakness and exploit it to forge the future you desire, to put a worthless past behind you—your actions serve as a lesson for both the Empire’s enemies and its most loyal subjects.”
The praise stung—he didn’t need a reminder that he had become something far from the gentle, selfless knight he aspired to be—but it was Lelouch that forced him to this point. Suzaku had no choice but to embrace it.
“I’m honored, Your Highness.”
The Emperor continued, not acknowledging his response.
“As a reward, I am granting you your first formal assignment. Given your familiarity with Kamine island and your immunity against Lelouch’s Geass, you are suited to conduct an interrogation to determine what he knows about the Empire’s research.”
Suzaku’s breath caught. Monitoring Lelouch was one thing; it was easy to keep his distance, and with the one-way glass of his cell, there was no need for Lelouch to even know he was there. It was difficult to imagine anything less appealing than to be stuck wrangling a frantic, struggling Lelouch again, and he would be far too stubborn to give the slightest hint of information, particularly to Suzaku and the Emperor. As distant of a father as the Emperor was, surely he could at least recognize his son’s impudence.
“Your Majesty, if I may.”
“Speak, Kururugi.”
“Lelouch’s information is not to be trusted. He was willing to lie to those closest to him, so any information he gives us might do more harm than good.”
“You are correct, Kururugi. That is why you will be supplied with the necessary tools for the interrogation.”
Suzaku heard the click of a latch and finally dared to look up towards the throne.
There was a small wooden case in the Emperor’s hands, toy-like in his massive grip. He raised the lid, revealing two brown vials alongside a miniature gun-like apparatus with a plunger and a circular applicator.
Suzaku had seen this during his training as a cadet, knew all too well the havoc it could wreak on the mind, and the thought sent sickening dread creeping through his core. A small part of him even admitted that he was part of the reason people used it, in their desperation to return to the age when Japan still stood proud and unblemished by war—but that version of Japan was doomed whether Suzaku intervened or not.
The Emperor disrupted Suzaku’s trance to confirm what he already knew.
“I believe you Elevens refer to it as “Refrain”. You are to use this truth serum on Lelouch so that his testimony is not tainted by lies.”
He shut the case with a loud, echoing clop and placed it on the throne’s armrest, then turned to Suzaku, slightly frowning.
“Do you have any further questions about your assignment, Kururugi?”
Suzaku swallowed to get rid of the lump in his throat, but his mouth was too dry.
“No, Your Majesty. Understood.”
“You are dismissed. Do not disappoint me, Kururugi.”
-
Maybe Lelouch was right about one thing: that Suzaku should put the past behind him. It would’ve been so much easier if he could have simply turned Lelouch in and washed his hands of him, but the man was like quicksand: the harder Suzaku struggled to rid himself of him, the farther he seemed to fall into his clutches. The Emperor made it seem so simple when he referred to their past as worthless, cramming eight complicated years into a single phrase.
Suzaku had so desperately wanted to believe that Lelouch couldn’t be behind Zero’s actions, that things could continue the way they were just like when they were kids. He’d blindly put his faith in him, overlooking coincidences and inconsistencies, and because of that mistake—no, his own selfish hope—hundreds, if not thousands, were dead, and countless friendships and families were torn apart. This would be atonement for both of them: Suzaku would look his mistake in the face and erase him for good, and with that, Euphy would be avenged without any further bloodshed.
The buzz of his thoughts faded with his footsteps’ echoes as he approached Lelouch’s cell and studied him, preparing to enter. Lelouch seemed to have been trying to remove the shield covering his demonic eye by rubbing it against the wall; his hair was unevenly disheveled, and there were a few red marks on the left side of his face, but neither the covering nor his straitjacket had budged. He leaned on the glass, looking dejected save for his glare which was still burning with malice that he could only direct at the floor.
Gathering his resolve, Suzaku entered the passcode—28-09-18— and stepped into the cell.
“What is it this time, Sir Kururugi?” Lelouch sneered, lone eye instantly latching onto Suzaku. “Come to punish the treacherous murderer Zero? Perhaps put him to death?”
In a way, he was right. Lelouch looked fittingly like a dead man; ghostly in the sickly half-light. He’d become even more gaunt than usual from refusing meals, and the shadows accentuated his pale, bony features. It was pathetic, and honestly laughable that he was still determined to keep up his arrogant charade even in these circumstances.
Suzaku remained silent and turned away from him, placing the case on the table against the wall. Averting his eyes from his own reflection on its surface, he caught a glimpse of his captive’s reflection from the glass wall, face upturned into a familiar, haughty, unmistakably Lelouch expression—and molten loathing bubbled up inside of him. The obnoxious expression could have been endearing once, but now it was nothing but a repulsive distraction. He unlatched the box and fixed his gaze to the contents instead, allowing him to brace for the next insult.
“Do you really think that Euphy would—“
“Shut up, Lelouch.”
Under normal circumstances, a comment like that would warrant swift retaliation, but Suzaku’s body felt too heavy for him to muster anything more than a sigh.
“You know, she and I both—“
“I said, shut up. Euphy’s dead, and you killed her, Lelouch.” He hesitated for a moment before reminding him, “You have no one to blame for this but yourself.”
Lelouch rewarded him with a fleeting moment of vindication as he let out a tch.
“What are you here for? Did you come to simply dwell in the past? Get it done and get out,” Lelouch spat.
Like he had any other plans besides seething alone on the floor. It was rare for Lelouch to drop the chance to monologue and condescend so easily, but he supposed that the desire to get the encounter over with was mutual. Taking the opportunity while he still could, Suzaku sighed and finally rose; his long, regal cape still concealing his arms as he turned to face his prisoner, stone-faced.
“The Emperor still requires some information from you, and I’ve been tasked with the interrogation,” he said coldly. He carefully brandished the gun-like injector, and the contents swished in the vial.
Lelouch’s eye widened, his face contorting into a horrified grimace. “You—! You’d even resort to—!”
Suzaku closed in. Lelouch squirmed desperately away from him, but Suzaku was a white and gold whirlwind as he pounced on him, forcing Lelouch against the wall before he had the chance to resist. The folds of his straitjacket nearly slipped from Suzaku’s grip when he dropped to the floor and tried to slither out from under the knight, but Suzaku intercepted him, forcefully bracing his knee against Lelouch’s chest—a little too forceful, he’d gotten too close and could feel the warmth of the breath he knocked from him— thrusting himself forward against the glass and leaving Lelouch nowhere else to hide. Lelouch was left gasping for a moment, allowing Suzaku to solidify his hold on his shoulders before he could begin wriggling again.
Lelouch flinched and inhaled sharply as Suzaku leaned in and carefully but firmly lifted his chin, pushing it up and to the right to expose his neck. He strained to force his head back down against Suzaku’s grip but still managed to give him a defiant, white-hot glare, heavy breaths hissing through his gritted teeth while he glowered at Suzaku from an awkward side-angle.
Suzaku tugged the straitjacket’s collar down, revealing more of Lelouch’s skin and making him wince. “This is for the best, Lelouch,” the knight said unconvincingly. He took a breath as he steadied his hand and placed the applicator on Lelouch’s neck.
It was almost a merciful end for Zero, the man who’d shattered the peace Suzaku sacrificed so much for, the murderer who’d trampled his and Euphy’s dream, soaking her gentle hands with a sea of innocent blood. The monster who twisted and perverted his victims’ will was to lose any will of his own, to dissipate into a fog of blissful memories.
But Suzaku knew that Lelouch would rather be put to death than become Britannia’s puppet. He’d always been a man who wanted to mold the world with his own hands, vowing to destroy it and create it anew since he’d first met the freshly exiled prince, and a complacent Lelouch wouldn’t be Lelouch at all— he’d be nothing more than a lifeless husk in Lelouch’s body, no better than a domesticated beast. Worse than that, even: Suzaku was to rip his fangs and claws from him so that he would jump through the Empire’s hoops like some wretched circus animal.
Unfortunately for Lelouch, the Empire couldn’t allow him any mysteries or martyrdom.
Lelouch didn’t even have the decency to meet his fate with dignity. In desperation, he shrieked and thrashed helplessly against Suzaku’s merciless restraint as if he were being electrocuted.
Suzaku pushed the plunger, the needle easily piercing Lelouch’s delicate skin. As the vial drained, his thrashing slowed to rocking, then slight swaying, until he finally slumped forward in a heap, motionless.
The sudden stillness was just long enough for Suzaku to jolt, questioning for a moment if he’d been tricked into executing Lelouch.
After a few seconds of unbearable silence, Lelouch finally lifted his head and beamed with childlike wonder, his glassy eye staring straight through Suzaku. He shuddered—the innocent expression looked utterly wrong on Lelouch, but there was something eerily familiar about it that made him ache.
He hadn’t seen a look like that on him since-
“Look, Suzaku! A sunflower!”
Suzaku steadied himself. For all his lamenting Lelouch’s death, an echo of him was still buried there the whole time— his Lelouch that he remembered from eight years ago— but after everything, it was so, terribly wrong for him to be here, to be in that Lelouch’s body—Zero’s body— and to see this Suzaku. He felt naked; vulnerable, like the old Lelouch could see right through him, despite the fact that he wasn’t even sure if Lelouch could see him at all.
Out of all of his memories—his treasured moments with Nunally, his time at Ashford Academy and his escapades with the student council—why did the first memory have to be one from back then? But as much as it sickened him, if it was Suzaku in his place, he was liable to do the same. It was so much simpler back then, a summer with just the three of them; they were still free from the war, from sacrifices, and from quests for atonement.
Suzaku had long gotten used to others speaking his name like a dirty word, full of contempt, disgust, even terror—but somehow, after everything, Lelouch saying it so sweetly was infinitely more revolting.
“Isn’t it pretty? I think so, don’t you?” Lelouch murmured.
The floor seemed to lurch, and Suzaku braced himself against the wall, heaving. Mercifully, nothing came of it, leaving him to choke on the stagnant air.
What a pathetic sight he must’ve been. Something like an empty, resentful laugh escaped him; the sound was bitter, but it tasted sour and acidic in his mouth. The Knight of Seven, one of the Empire’s finest warriors, one of the most feared men in the world, was doubled over in a dingy prison cell, retching because of a fond childhood memory. A string of drool dripped down Suzaku’s chin like he was an infant, and he was just as small and helpless as one. But there was more to it than just the memory—after all, this was far from the first time he’d reminisced on that day since all those years ago—it was that Suzaku had become a grave robber, and he’d desecrated his and Lelouch’s shared tomb. Without a doubt, Zero deserved this—but did Lelouch?
Maybe if the Emperor saw him like this, he would end Suzaku too. In a sick way, it would almost be poetic for his final act to be the violation of the mind of the criminal who’d defiled the minds of so many others, and for him to die at the hands of the man Lelouch hated most. It could be his last rebellion against the command that Lelouch cursed him with.
Oblivious to the trembling knight, Lelouch seemed perfectly content without a response, savoring the warmth from a nonexistent sun as he grinned at a golden field that was long gone. It allowed Suzaku a few moments to catch his breath and right himself.
Wallow in remorse when you have time for it. Those were the heartless words offered to Suzaku by Euphy’s murderer, who then used his father’s death as an excuse for his actions—but at least Suzaku had the humanity to feel remorse at all. It always was Lelouch who managed to penetrate the comfortable, carefully-built walls of denial that he hid behind, and maybe it was time for him to turn Lelouch’s own advice against him. They were past the question of methods; Suzaku had no other choice—he couldn’t afford to deny the truth and separate Lelouch and Zero anymore. Hell, he’d never had that luxury to begin with— that mistake already came at too high a cost. Regardless of everything that had happened between them, he still had a duty to fulfill, and he couldn’t let this encounter be in vain.
Suzaku roughly wiped his mouth on his glove, his shuddering breaths becoming steadier as he stood up straighter and pulled the Emperor’s list of questions from a booklet in his pocket.
“What do you know about Kamine Island?” Suzaku demanded. The words were still hoarse and sounded muffled and distant, like his head was full of static.
Lelouch tilted his head with his mouth slightly agape and studied Suzaku, curious and unnaturally docile, like a young animal that hadn’t learned what to fear yet. A shadow of recognition flickered into confusion, as if he couldn’t determine if or when they had met before. He let out a soft hum, but didn’t respond.
He didn’t remember.
Of course. As much as Lelouch craved the power to enact change and the thrill of a successful scheme, Suzaku couldn’t imagine that his time as Zero was anything to be nostalgic about, especially with its bitter ending still fresh in his mind.
He gritted his teeth. The Emperor almost certainly knew the interrogation was a lost cause, but it allowed him to both neutralize Lelouch and confirm Suzaku’s loyalty. It was nothing more than the ruthless efficiency that was the Empire’s standard. This was the system that he was determined to work within, and because of that, the one he was up against.
So be it. The interrogation was just one of many inevitable trials on the path for Suzaku to become the Knight of One and liberate Japan, and he should’ve been grateful that this one didn’t even soil his hands with blood.
Suzaku cleared his throat with a cough and smoothed the page, steeling himself for the remainder of the questionnaire.
-
Suzaku barely remembered the following days, burying himself in the comfort of routine—the training, the paperwork, even the jeers and whispers behind his back. He’d been lucky enough to keep the memory of the interrogation at arm’s length until the Emperor finally summoned him once again.
He knelt before the monarch, careful to keep his eyes fixed to a speck on the floor, and the Emperor hardly acknowledged Suzaku’s entrance, as direct as always.
“Your report, Kururugi. Did the interrogation reveal anything useful?”
“No, Your Highness. It was… nothing but meaningless nonsense.”
It felt like a lie to call those memories meaningless, but the Emperor had said the same thing days before.
“Very well then. We shall continue operations accordingly.” Suzaku heard the Emperor drum his fingers on the throne twice before he began speaking again.
“I have another assignment for you, Sir Kururugi. I believe you are a suitable candidate for Britannia’s next operation.” The Emperor rose, cloaking the crouched knight in his shadow. “Come forward. It is time for you to meet Britannia’s newest military advisor, Lord Julius Kingsley.”