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“Who’s there?”
Kallen doesn’t jump, but it’s a very near thing, nonetheless. Zero. For that voice, commanding and sharp, can belong to no other.
And as for herself—
What the hell she’s doing all the way out here to begin with, she doesn't even know.
Images, abrupt and unbidden, flash through her mind: Narita, the mountain giving way to a landslide, the town—the people—below crushed underneath thousands of pounds of earth and mud.
How many people were there? How many died? Her fists clench, fingers curling, nails cutting at her palms just shy of drawing blood. And that was her who did it. It wasn’t Britannia who killed them. It was her.
It's she who killed Shirley's father.
No, she knows very well why she’s here.
Resolve deciding for her, she steps forward, staring into the depths of the warehouse. And there Zero is, bared from the waist up, a towel obscuring his unmasked face. Her eyes widen at the sight; if not for her resolve, she might have taken a step back or, even, outright left. “It’s me,” she says instead, and forges on ahead. “There’s something I need to say,” and if her voice wavers just the barest bit, Zero calls no attention to it.
“Something which weighs heavily on your mind.” Zero’s voice approaches something almost akin to softness, yet it is no less unyielding for it. Carefully, mindful of the towel, he tilts his head in her direction. “Narita.”
Of course, Zero knows. Kallen would expect nothing less. He probably even knows exactly what she’s about to say—perhaps, in private, he’s even harbored the same thoughts himself.
“That was me out there.” Her voice hardens. “On the mountain. I knew what I was doing when I set off the landslide, but I didn’t think. I didn’t think anybody outside of those we were fighting would be caught in it. So, how can I keep going knowing that I’ve killed innocents? People who had nothing to do with our fight?” Her voice catches. “I— I know I have to go on, for the sake of Japan, for everyone who’s already fallen, but how I’m supposed to do that now I just don’t know.” A ball of ice crystallizes in her throat, making the next words a struggle to force out. But force them out she does. “That price, the price of blood, of life—it’s one everyone else will have to pay, not us. So how…” Here, at last, her voice fails her.
For a time, Zero stays silent. And in that silence, Kallen wonders. She wonders if indeed he’s weighed down with the same struggles of shedding innocent blood as she has found herself to be.
If so, then this conversation may not be for her sake alone.
***
Lelouch could almost laugh. Almost, if not for the fact that it’s not just him in the warehouse. It appears that he has a chance to air out some of the thoughts weighing on his mind with someone other than C.C. for once.
Which is just as well, considering how very unhelpful and downright infuriating the damned witch was when he found himself wrought with guilt over the death of Shirley’s father.
The reminder sours the laughter locked in his throat, and he shoves the thought aside. Now isn't the time to be waylaid by the past, he tells himself. Only the present matters.
As ever, he chooses his words with care. "Do you think yourself a monster, Kallen?"
That definitely catches her off-guard. "Wh— what?" she stutters, and through the dark he thinks he spies those blue eyes of hers blowing wide as her scarlet brows go winging close together in confusion.
"For that is what many will call us. Monsters, murderers, even cowards. Because our war, as has already been demonstrated, will not be a clean nor flawless one. It will devour all, guilty and innocent alike, despite our efforts to only target those who are deserving of our wrath. That is the price of blood about which you speak, and it cannot be avoided." Lelouch looks down at his hands, and, for one brief moment, the shadows cloaking them seem as if bloodstains. Then, the moment vanishes, as if he's flicked it off along with all the blood.
"Despite all of that, it is our duty to carry onwards. Else, this war, the lives lost, it will all have been for nothing but the sake of a dream doomed to failure." Here, his voice grows stronger, almost strident in its intensity. "And I will not allow for that to happen! No matter the cost, I refuse to falter, for this path of blood is one I have chosen myself."
He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, and for a moment longer, before speaking once more.
"Tell me, Kallen, does that make me a monster? Or you? The rest of the Black Knights? Or does that merely make us soldiers doing what needs to be done?"
The response, when it comes, is almost predictable—but no less welcome for it. "You're not a monster, Zero," Kallen begins, her voice stronger and surer here than it was when she flagellated herself over the death and destruction she unwittingly wrought. "You're the one who's given us hope for the future of a free Japan. I—" And her voice falters, fractures, fragments for but a moment. "For the longest time, I thought my brother's dream was just that, a dream. It was like I was just going through the motions of being a freedom fighter. I lost hope in ever being free from Britannia."
Of course. It was obvious to Lelouch that the cell Kallen was a part of—Ohgi's cell—was on its last legs. Their meager numbers; the worn, old Glasgow as their sole knightmare; their lack of proper weapons—it all pointed to a resistance group on the brink of total annihilation and all but entrenched in the depths of despair.
That said, it takes him somewhat by surprise to hear Kallen admit to something so clearly deeply-held. After all, Zero may be a savior to her, but he's never taken that to mean she would divulge all to him.
Such as with the case of her civilian identity.
At that, something stirs within Lelouch. Once, he offered Kallen an opportunity he knew then and knows now he would not bother to extend towards any of the other Black Knights. He knew full well she would refuse him the offer, curious to know though she may have been—the truth of knowing, perhaps, exactly what kept her from taking that final step.
Even so.
The reasoning behind his extending Kallen the secret of his identity as Lelouch Lamperouge was twofold. It was only partially due to her ability in masking her true identity of Kouzuki Kallen underneath the unassuming facade of frail Kallen Stadtfeld. Such marked her as someone well-used to keeping dangerous, delicate secrets, the ideal confidante.
The other reason was because of the fact that, for all intents and purposes, Kallen was—is—his greatest knight. His ultimate sword and shield, as demonstrated by her rank as Captain of his elite guard, the Zero Squad. As well as at Narita, and even before, when she came to his defense against that accursed white knightmare all the way back in Shinjuku.
My Knight of Zero. His lips quirk up in a small, secretive smile. It has a nice ring to it. Like the Knights of the Round, except not at all, for "justice" here means so much more than merely paying lip service towards the concept.
And thus, Lelouch makes his decision.
***
The silence seems to stretch on forever as Kallen waits for a response to her words. Her confession, really. She never really planned on telling anyone of her thoughts over the years regarding their much-loathed lack of progress in liberating Japan, but it's Zero. There's this force of personality he possesses, an aura almost palpable, that attracts any and all into his orbit—none moreso than Kallen herself.
When at last Zero speaks, his voice seems to shake the warehouse down to its bones. "Kallen," and she snaps to attention immediately, ready for whatever comes next. "Once, I offered you the chance to know me beneath my mask. You are the captain of my elite guard. The one I trust to have my back in my every hour of need. You alone are the one I would trust with my most dire secret. And so, here and now, I offer that chance to you once again."
Except for that. Because that is not at all what Kallen expects, and her breath catches.
Can she do it? Can she say yes? For Zero to offer so personal a secret as this not once, but twice...
The first time, she was afraid. Afraid of what it would mean for her to know who the man behind the mask was. Afraid of how that knowledge would alter her perception of the rebel leader she's sworn herself to.
But did she not profer to Zero a measure of trust with the breadth and depth of her troubled confessions only moments ago? Now, here he is, offering to her that same measure of trust, only the secret is one that could see him destroyed utterly were word of it to reach the wrong ears.
In a sense, Zero is giving Kallen the chance to hold his very life within her hands, for good or for ill.
In her heart, Kallen knows there's only one way forward.
"All right, Zero," she says, after what feels like an eternity of thought. "I accept your offer." Straightening up, she adds, eyes glinting, voice full of steel resolve: "And I will keep your secret always—to the grave if need be."
"I can ask for no greater confidante than that."
An arm, outstretched against the dark of the night, beckoning, commanding, demanding obedience, and Kallen goes.
In the lonely warehouse, her steps seem to echo to the heavens.
When she reaches the point of being close enough to reach out and touch fingertips to his face, does Zero do away with the towel. It tumbles from his head, and his face is revealed.
A face Kallen knows altogether well. Black hair and vivid violet eyes, for the very face Kallen is staring at belongs to none other than Lelouch Lamperouge himself.
Her whole world stops, stalls, sticks in place. Her mouth goes dry, eyes blowing wider than ever before. Her shock is practically a physical entity beside her when she whispers, "Lelouch, it— it's you? But how is that possi—"
"'Don't tell anyone about Shinjuku,'" Lelouch says, the quotation marks clear in the inflection of his words. His lips turn up in a wry smile. "Now you know what I meant by that."
Questions pile up on Kallen's tongue. So that's why he approached me after Shinjuku? Because he thought I might give something away? Or did he want something else?
"But that time in the bath," and she can't quite help the dull flush that dusts across her face, even now, at the mere mention of it. "That was Zero's voice—" Lelouch's voice "—and what you said when we saw the man selling hot dogs—"
"An actor is only as good as the act he puts on," Lelouch murmurs. "Such as the act you put on with Kallen Stadtfeld." He arches his brows. "As for the phone call, well, I think we both know that's by far the least of the miracles I've succeeded in pulling off."
Kallen can't help but stare. Her mind whirls. Her tongue all but stumbles on itself as she fights for the right words. In the end, it's only one that matters: "Why?"
"Why?" Lelouch's gaze cuts narrow. "Why fight a Britannia which, by all rights, is my home?" At the end, his voice sinks into something of a snarl. Feral, vicious, and utterly antithesis to the lazy schoolboy genius Kallen is so used to dealing with. "Because this "home" has rotted beyond all hope. A nation which lauds the strong and condemns the weak has no place in this world." His eyes, so piercingly violet, pin hers in place. "It would see my own sister destroyed for the crime of being crippled and blind. No, the world must be rid of this wretched country, and thus have I created the Black Knights to accomplish exactly that."
Shock still sticks Kallen in place, shock and stunned disbelief, but she can yet manage more words. "And Nunnally, does she kno—"
"No," Lelouch cuts in, "and that is how I wish for it to stay. However, there may come a point when wearing the mask and mantle of Zero will take precedence over my being by Nunnally's side for an indefinite period of time."
And here, Lelouch's eyes become yet more piercing. Searching, roving over Kallen's face, as if intent on unearthing some secret truth held within the weft of her features.
Kallen withstands the scrutiny. For despite all the shock and the disbelief yet coursing through her veins, she knows that the man in front of her isn't Lelouch. Or rather, it isn't just Lelouch. It's Zero as well. The words spoken aren't merely coming from the schoolboy who so loves his little sister when everything else is simply nothing in his eyes—but from the revolutionary that Kallen has vowed her loyalty and ability to as well.
And thus, she knows that whatever Zero is searching for, she musn't be found wanting.
She isn't.
Eventually, Lelouch seems to find himself satisfied with his perusal, and so speaks once more. "I've trusted you this far," he begins, voice weighted with something incredibly calculating, "with my greatest secret, with all the knowledge required to destroy me in one fell swoop. But there is something else. Something I planned on trusting to Suzaku, but as it stands, I find myself asking it of you instead." He pauses, as if wondering whether to go through with his next words, taking the final plunge as it were.
In the end, he does. "Whether or not such a time comes to pass, I wish to entrust you with Nunnally's safety." Lelouch says every word like it's a precious, delicate treasure, at risk of shattering any second. "Can I?"
The weight of Lelouch's words lands squarely in Kallen's face. Of everything else he could trust me with, and it would be with his beloved sister's safety? Her shock only heightens, but alongside it blossoms something warm, something that kindles her heart full of a bright, brilliantly-burning blaze.
Wtih as much grace and poise as she can muster, only the tiniest of trembles winnowing into her motions, Kallen lowers herself down to one knee upon the hard warehouse floor. The entire time, she dares not look away from that all-consuming violet gaze.
"Yes." Because Kallen knows, here and now, that she could never do wrong by refusing Zero—by refusing Lelouch—that which he needs most in the world. "I swear to keep her safe. Always. On my life, Zero—Lelouch, and on my brother's dream of a free Japan, I so swear."
Something so much more than the lazy, careless smile that is wont to cross Lelouch Lamperouge the Schoolboy's face graces his lips. "Thank you, Kallen, my Knight of Zero."