Word: annals

Definition: historical records

Pairing/Character(s): Suzaku x Lelouch or Kallen x Lelouch

Rating: T for swearing and alcohol

A/N: This is a pretty ambiguous piece. I couldn't decide if I wanted the narrator to be Suzaku or Kallen, so I'm leaving it up to you. I was leaning more toward Suzaku, but in the end I kept the person nameless. It actually doesn't even have to be either of them, it could be some random person if you'd like. Wouldn't make much sense though. I was writing it with the thought 'What if Zero Requiem had failed?' in mind. Cause even though Lelouch is inhumanely brilliant, people are notorious for ruining perfect plans. Uh, keep in mind that the narrator has definitely lost some part of their sanity. That's why they're somewhat detached throughout the one-shot. This was supposed to be written in second person, since that's always fun to try, but then I ended up in first. Dx Well, I hope you like it and always know that I live for your reviews/favorites/alerts. 8D Especially reviews, since I have 3400 hits and only 19 reviews. Are my one-shots really that bad? If they are, would you please leave a review with constructive criticism so I know what to work on? I have 12 chapters and 19 reviews (yes, another comparison). Sooo I don't even have two reviews for each chapter. Thanks, guys. I'm really feeling the love. I appreciate everyone who DOES review though, I love you all! :D Yes. I'm blatantly hating on those of you who read without reviewing or messaging telling me what they like or dislike. Feel the hate. Does it burn? IT BURNS ME TOO. D: I know this a/n is ridiculously long. I'm sorry. :(

Disclaimer: Not mine. Ever. -sigh-

I took a swig from the bottle and sighed. I love the way the alcohol burns down my throat; it reminds me I'm really still alive in this hellhole. I laughed, leaning my head against the cold brick wall behind me. I swung my legs up so I'd be sitting Indian-style on the barrel. I chuckled. The world is full of racism, isn't it? Indian-style sitting. I'm sure the Indians weren't the only ones to sit like this. That's probably why people say cross-legged, cause the other term is pretty racist.

I dropped my head in my hands and sighed. I've had too much to drink if I'm musing about a nearly extinct race. Then again, lots of races are endangered at the moment.

I heard an explosion behind me and hummed. The war still going on then, huh? You never would have seen this coming. Not even your smarts could have seen the failure lurking behind your plan. You never expected you'd have supporters, did you? Well, I know I'm stating the obvious here, but you definitely did. I know you got them unintentionally, but the point is you got them. You've got lots of them.

I heard footsteps racing toward where I was seated and grumbled, getting to my feet. I leaned a hand against the wall until the world stopped spinning. By that time, soldiers (who had probably provided the footsteps) surrounded me. I frowned, scratching my head. They started to talk about something, probably unimportant, and came closer. I snorted, crossing my arms as they continued to advance. I felt my fingers brush against the cool steel of the dagger in my sleeve and grinned.

I'll spare you the details of how those 'soldiers' ended up. Really, they're supposed to be trained, right? All they did was flail and shoot everywhere. Lucky for me, I guess. Especially since I was swinging and missing for a while there. I've been drinking for a while, so I guess it was lucky.

I wiped the blood from my blade onto one of their uniforms and looked closer. Another nearby explosion lit up the dark sky, letting me see the flag stitched onto the bloody uniform. The Japanese flag was displayed proudly in the flash of light. I groaned, leaving the alley quickly. The Japanese were the most annoying when they found out their soldiers had been killed.

Huh. See what this war is doing to me? I've turned my back on my own kind.

I found another empty, relatively dark alley and sat Indian-style (err, cross-legged) on the floor, leaning my back against yet another brick wall. I took another swig of my bottle, feeling the familiar burn. I bet you're wondering what happened. Your plan was supposed to be flawless, just like all your other plans. Just like you. You really were flawless, you know that? And you were beautiful. Really, it's not fair that you're so beautiful. Your hair, your eyes, your smirk, and your rare smile – they were all so beautiful it was kinda hard to stand next to you when I knew I was nothing in comparison.

And you were beautiful inside too. I'm not trying to be cheesy and romantic just cause I loved you. Everything you ever did was to make the world peaceful. It worked for a while, really, it did. But it's in human nature to fuck up perfection. An example? This war. Another example? Your death.

Don't even deny it, I already covered this. You being beautiful inside and out makes you perfect. And any imperfection of yours is endearing anyways, which amplifies your perfection. Another explosion snapped me out of my rambling.

Wow. Look what you did. I was trying to explain how your plan was ruined and you distracted me with your perfection. Even in death, you captivate me.

Well, it's actually pretty easy to understand. After Nunnally took charge, things were peaceful for a few years. With 'Zero the Hero' by her side, no one really had any protests. I… I was content, I guess. I was never truly happy like I was when I was with you. I never can be; even now, I can't forget you. Uh, anyways, peace lasted for a sliver of time blah blah blah, skipping a little of the small rebellions. Then a group of thousands – I kid you not, thousands – rose and tried to overthrow each ruler. At the time, the world was divided into Britannia, Chinese Federation, and the EU. I'm sure you already know this, but… each assassination attempt was successful. The ruler of the Chinese Federation (Empress Tianzi), the ruler of the EU (whose name escapes me, all the time), and the ruler of Britannia (Nunnally) were all murdered that day.

I pushed away the thought, burying my face in my hands and taking deep breaths. Another explosion, except this one was followed by screams. They were horrible screams, the kind that scrape your throat on their way out. The screams that say a body part was just blown off.

I shook my head, taking another swig. Alcohol is a beautiful thing too. It numbs everything until you kinda remember the pain, but you forget what caused it. Then you drink more and everything's fuzzy and it's terrific.

Anyways, your supporters had infiltrated each government. After that, everything went crazy for a little bit. That was about twenty years ago, I think. Now, everyone is divided. New 'countries' are being created and want 'liberation'.

Yeah, I know. Total bullshit, right? But that's what they're saying. They won't negotiate, so now it's just one giant battle against everyone who isn't wearing your flag somewhere.

I took another swig and clenched my fists. After Nunnally was killed, I gotta admit I went crazy too. Hell, anyone who had met her probably did. She didn't deserve to die at such a young age. And she died so painfully… I'm glad you died beforehand; otherwise you really would have lost your mind. At the time when the world needed control the most, control they were depending on Zero to give, the world couldn't get it. That's probably what pushed everyone closer to insanity – the lack of control.

I heard footsteps and grimaced. I'm tired of fighting today. I ducked behind a few stray trashcans, knowing the young 'soldiers' were too scared to investigate further. I looked closer and sighed, shaking my head. These boys couldn't be older than 15 and they were being pushed to fight a war that wasn't theirs. Being forced to believe what they didn't believe.

A few months after Nunnally's murder, I kinda snapped out of my personal crazy and tried to calm things down. They managed to convince me to get into a Knightmare and try to calm things down by shaking them up even more. It didn't take long for me to realize their true intentions. That's why I said I kinda snapped out of it. If I were completely back to normal back then, I never would've agreed to fight their war.

Since then, I've only fought to survive. I've been in hiding for years now, though I can't tell you how many. I've stopped keeping track of life. I can walk around freely too; everyone we knew before is already dead. Even all the innocent people we knew, the people who can't even shoot a gun properly. Now I just spend my days talking to you and praying to whatever deity – who's probably laughing at us ruin everything- that you'll hear me. The idea that you can hear me is the only thing keeping me sane.

And the alcohol, but I think I already mentioned that.

All the explosions make the air heavy, so I lean my forehead against the brick and sigh. It's so cold, which is good since we're in the middle of summer, I think. I close my eyes and drift off. I'll be fine; all those bombs must've killed anyone who can capture-

My head is pounding, but not the way it should be. Normally when I've got a hangover, there's a buzzing in my ears. And I usually only get one when I've drank more than a few bottles the night before. The pain in my head is one that tells me my head was bleeding somewhere. Even though it's been a while since I've fought and gotten hurt, the feeling is familiar. Besides, I only drank two bottles last night.

Whoever else is in the room – the sounds they're making tells me approximately three people – can probably tell I'm awake if they were able to catch me off-guard and attack me. I take a deep breath and feel restraint. Either I'm tied up, or someone is hugging me really tightly. I open my eyes before wrenching them shut again. I try again, slower this time, and sigh. I'm in a white room with white walls and a tiled white floor with a bright white light shining into my eyes. These people are so unoriginal.

I look down without moving my head and confirm that I am tied up – thankfully not with white rope. I turn my attention back to the three people in here and eye the flag on their uniforms. It takes me a while, but I'm pretty sure that's the 'French' flag. There are so many new flags, I've started to forget them all. They're all just staring at me cautiously, like I'm gonna jump around in my chair and foam at the mouth like a rabid dog. I snort, leaning back into my (white) chair, and raise an eyebrow.

"What?"

I swallow, trying to get rid of the burning feeling of thirst in my throat. It's been a while since I last spoke but I had no idea my voice would get that raspy. One of the guys walks forward and begins spouting nonsense. I catch the main concept, which is that they want me to tell them what the Japanese are up to, and scoff. Frenchman number one clenches his fists but otherwise remains calm. Frenchman number two, who apparently has more of a temper, jumps to his feet with a red face and glares at me. Frenchman number three puts a hand on number two's shoulder, eventually coaxing him to sit.

"I don't know what the Japanese are doing."

Number two jumps back to his feet, pushing his face into mine and sneering.

"Liar. Tell us the truth, or we'll kill you."

I barely resist rolling my eyes at his horrible Japanese, and sigh. Apparently, this is the wrong answer, and number two doesn't hesitate to slap me hard across the face. I feel blood drip from the corner of my mouth and grin, turning my head back to number two. He stops when he sees my lack of reaction, probably confused.

I don't remember much French from what you taught me and what I was forced to learn, but I never forgot the insults.

"Go fuck yourself, stupid Frenchman."

Number one and three barely managed to restrain number two from a punch that could have probably knocked me out. He's shouting French curses at me now that I don't really understand. I recognize 'fuck', but that's about it. Two turns back to me, calmer now that he's vented.

"I'll ask you again." He slaps me again sharply, turning my head to the side. He repeats the action so my head turns once again. "What are the Japanese planning?" He slaps my face with each word, a satisfied smirk on his face. I lean forward, trying to make my features look defeated. He leans forward as well, apparently believing me. I head but him with a grin.

"They plan to fuck your mom."

Number two shouts something angry in French before repeating what he had been doing before, this time with punches. One and three struggle to hold him back before he turns to them, speaking angrily and gesturing toward me. I wiggle my nose and wince. Yep, it's broken.

This is so ironic. I never would have expected to die this way. Cause that's what number two is trying to convince one and three of. He wants to kill me because I'm obviously useless and he's pissed off. I'm sure it won't be a quick death either. These men are old enough to know what torture was like when you were emperor.

Now number one is starting to nod in agreement with two. They're both working together to convince three now. Three turns toward me and I see his face for the first time. I groan, shaking my head. If there are any deities out there, they're all laughing as they screw around with my life. This isn't fair. Of all the Frenchmen in the world, there had to be one here who had your eyes.

Number three is talking to one and two sternly now. Apparently he's the one in charge. Two quickly begins to argue but is silenced by three. From the way two is seething, it's obvious three is in charge. He walks toward me but all I can see are your eyes, your eyes in the face of this stranger. He gets down on one knee so we're face-to-face.

"You don't have to die. If you give us the information we need, we'll let you live."

Even in my half-delirious state, I know that's a lie. His voice is so kind that I almost believe him though. It looks as if he really wants to believe I'll survive if I tell them. But I understand how things work when you have hostages. If they don't tell you, you kill them. If they do, you kill them. I sigh, looking deep into your eyes.

"You and I both know that's a lie."

Number three sighs, pulling out his gun reluctantly. He points the gun at my forehead, getting closer and closer until it's touching my skin. I stare into your eyes. I'm about to die, so I should see my life flash before my eyes, right? Did you see your life flash before your eyes when the sword plunged into you? Did you have time to?

That's not what I'm seeing right now, though. Well, I kinda am. But the parts of my life that are flashing before my eyes are moments spent with you. I really can't help it when I'm looking straight into your eyes.

"Last chance."

I manage to scrounge up a sad smile at this stranger with your eyes. He looks surprised but tries to cover it up. I take his words into consideration. This really is my last chance, in more ways than one. It's my last chance to tell them what they want to hear. It's my last chance to breathe and live in this world. It's my last chance to look into your eyes. It's my last chance to really think about what I've done with my life.

I've never really been remarkable. The only reason I would ever be mentioned after my death would be because of you. You're the remarkable one. You're special and perfect and everything I ever wanted with me. I would've been fine if it was just us, you know, spending our lives together. I would have been so happy, happier than I've been since you put your plan into action. Really, you should've been the one to live, not me. Your name shouldn't be recorded in the annals the way it is. You tried to save the world by destroying it, by allowing it to be reborn. Who could've known the result wouldn't be what you thought it'd be?

"I know."

Number three sighed, putting his finger on the trigger.

"Any last words?"

I looked into your eyes and felt tears falling from mine. I hope you waited for me, wherever you are. I hope I can find you and follow you. I hope that this time, you'll let me love you instead of isolating yourself from the world. I lost myself in the deep violet of your eyes and took a deep breath.

"I love you, Lelouch."