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Nunnally wasn’t one to shirk her duties. She never had done so before her brother had declared war on their father, and she certainly wouldn’t now after the blood and tears it had taken for her to become Empress. Regardless if it were menial paperwork or enduring the dismissive attitudes of her political aides, she wore her best smile as she handled her empire.
It was the only way she could look in the mirror without feeling guilt for surviving when her siblings hadn’t.
Still, she was only human. Staring at the document on her desk, it was hard for even her to keep her smile. A two-week festival marking the one-year anniversary of her coronation, an event celebrating the fall of the Demon Emperor.
Her fingers trembled as she touched the paper. A year wasn’t long enough to heal all wounds and her own still felt fresh. In another year, Nunnally would be the same age as Lelouch when all of this had started. In two, she would surpass him entirely.
And now she had to stamp a paper cementing his memory as a monster into the minds of her people.
Her hand clenched, crinkling the document.
“Your Majesty?” From across the room, Zero turned his head away from the window to her. Ever the guard, his posture was stiff, ready to spring into action even in the relative safety of her study.
Nunnally bit her lip. No, not Zero. Suzaku. At the very least, in her mind, she refused to kill her old friend. There would be one person who would know and acknowledge his sacrifice, even if she could never speak of it.
“It’s fine,” Nunnally said, trying and failing to keep her smile. Taking a deep breath, she smoothened the document. The creases remained. “Schneizel won’t like that.”
Not buying her excuses, Suzaku crossed over. The concern in his voice was more prominent now. “What is the matter?”
Even his speech was formal these days. It was almost enough to make her cry. They were the only ones who knew each other, who knew the truth, and even then, there was a wall between them. “It’s been a year.”
“Ah.” Suzaku was quick on the uptake. He gently squeezed her hand as he scanned the document. “A festival?”
“Yes, Schneizel organized it.” Perhaps that was the worst part of it all: her older brother had cheerfully and proudly set this up. Even if she wanted to talk about the past, about simpler times, Cornelia was still venomous from Euphy’s death and Schneizel didn’t care to reminisce.
There was something lonely about the fact that the only one she could talk to about Lelouch was a man who refused to remove his mask.
“You do not have to attend,” Suzaku suggested kindly.
“No.” Nunnally shook her head. “The people will wonder otherwise and I…I cannot let his work go to waste.” She bowed her head slightly, her shoulders heavy. “I just wish…I wanted to buy flowers but…there is nowhere to send them.”
There was no grave for Lelouch; it would have been vandalized, his body dug up and defiled. Euphemia’s grave had been destroyed along with Pendragon and most of their siblings. The only marker she could send lilies to was Shirley’s.
Suzaku’s breath hitched. “The school,” he said after a moment.
Nunnally softened, glancing at one of the photos on her desk. One of the only photos surviving of their time at the student council. She reached out, her fingers brushing her brother’s smiling image, his arm casually slung over Suzaku’s shoulders. Perhaps that had been the happiest time for him, before there had been no going back. “Yes, you’re right. He would have liked that.”
“Perhaps the clubroom,” Suzaku added softly.
"Yes.” Nunnally reached out, grabbing his hand. “And for Euphemia?”
He flinched. Despite the years, some wounds did not heal. “That…” Suzaku averted his gaze, his hand trembling. “You should decide.”
“I am not the only one who mourns her,” she said softly. “She would have wanted you to choose.”
“Zero is the reason she is dead,” Suzaku replied quietly.
“You didn’t do that.” Nunnally gritted her teeth. There were so few things left that could make her angry and most of them were concentrated on the man in front of her. Neither Zero nor Suzaku, neither dead nor alive, her constant companion straddled two worlds and she was tired of it.
She didn’t want to mourn one more person, especially if she saw that person on a daily basis.
“Despite what the world thinks, you aren’t dead,” Nunnally ground out, trying to keep her ire out of her voice. “You don’t have to act like you are! At least not here, not when it’s just you and me.”
Suzaku tried to pull his hand free, and she dug her nails in. “Your Majesty—," he started.
“Nunnally,” she corrected firmly. “We’re alone. Please, just call me by my name, Suzaku. Like you used to.”
He breathed in sharply before double-checking their surroundings. “You do not know who is listening.”
“You personally secured this room,” she reminded him, finally letting go of his hand. The walls were thick, the door solid wood, and the only ones who could enter were the two of them. “Please, take off your mask. You don’t always have to be Zero.”
Suzaku stepped back, his hands fisted. “I must. That is my penance.”
For what, Nunnally didn’t ask. There was too much blood on both of their hands to ask such a naïve question. In all the ways that mattered, Suzaku both was and wasn’t the boy she used to know, the kid that squabbled with her brother and took his oaths far too seriously. The one that always smiled when he met her, the one who got bitten by cats and felt too much for those he cared for. His innocence had disappeared with the soft click of a gun.
It was just as well. Nunnally both was and wasn’t the girl she used to be either, the girl who could only cry and follow her siblings. Even here, even now, she was still chasing Lelouch’s and Euphemia’s shadows. Her life wasn’t her own to live, it hadn’t been since she’d asked for the trigger to a bomb.
Too much had happened for them to go back to who they used to be.
“And what about my penance?” she asked, her eyes meeting his. “Is suffering the only way to atone?”
“No,” he replied sharply. Then, gentler, “No.”
Nunnally’s eyes stung, her throat burned. There was a secret she couldn’t share with anyone, not even Suzaku, and it was this: she hated her brother. Not once had he brought her into his plans, not once had he given her a choice in the matter. Whether it was to destroy Britannia or himself, all she could do was watch from the sidelines.
Maybe she could have saved him.
Maybe she could have died with him.
Yet, here she was, alone with feelings she couldn’t do anything about. There was no one left to yell at, no one to take her anger out on. Lelouch was dead and the dead couldn’t hear the wails of the survivors no matter how loud she was.
She refused to allow Suzaku to do the same.
“Then why must you?” she shouted, unable to rein in her anger. Her helplessness. “Lelouch told you to be Zero. That doesn’t mean you can’t be Suzaku too. At least not here.” Nunnally’s hands clenched on her wheelchair’s arms, and she bit her cheek to keep herself from crying. Her voice still broke. “At least not with me.”
“That…” Suzaku reached up to touch his mask, his fingers pressing against the left side. Nunnally could almost see the bloody fingerprints Lelouch had left behind, the last wound he had left on Suzaku. “That is not something I deserve.”
“Then what do I deserve?” Nunnally asked, her voice wobbly as she furiously blinked back her tears. “You’re not the only one who killed.”
Suzaku fell silent, unable to refute, unable to agree.
In the end, they both had their cross to bear, their ghosts to appease. Nunnally pressed a button on her wheelchair and rolled over toward him. Clasping his hand between hers, she tried again. “We both have a lot to make up for. But…this suffering. This refusal to allow ourselves to be happy—it won’t help anyone. Lelouch wouldn’t have wanted that. Euphy wouldn’t have liked that.” She squeezed his hand and whispered, “I’m tired of living with ghosts. Please don’t be one of them too.”
There was a long silence and her heart dropped. Perhaps, in the end, her words weren’t enough. She wasn’t enough. Suzaku had always taken it on himself—
Suzaku squeezed back, breaking her thoughts. “Sometimes, I think I have forgotten how to live otherwise. It is hard. But…” He reached up with his other hand and took off the mask. Nunnally hadn’t seen his face in over a year but the familiarity of it made her ache and this time she didn’t stop her tears. “I’ll try, Nunnally.”
“That’s all I wanted,” she replied softly.