AN: So I don't know what this is...

Raison D'etre

::

It's the most ridiculous thing he's ever seen in his life.

The atrocity balanced on top of Lelouch- no, the demon emperor's head looks like the illegitimate cross between a marshmallow and some sort of hellish beast, and Suzaku could have sworn that it blinked at him. Of course, what was he to expect from the man who had designed an entire ensemble from a chess piece? Yet not even Zero's blank, inhuman mask could top the glassy red eye-thing situated just above the emperor's forehead.

So, of course, Suzaku could be excused for getting a bit distracted by the cushion-esque, fabric monster on his former friend's head. (No, no, no, it wouldn't do any good to think of him that way anymore.)

It wasn't his fault if he felt the slightest twinge in the pit of his stomach when said emperor announced his grand finale with his signature flourish, swinging his arm so widely that the damning hat nearly went flying off of his head. Suzaku couldn't blame himself for the way the news hurtled down into his mind like a meteor to earth, only without the decency to burn up and crumble before making its impact. The reason he felt as though he'd been punched in the gut with brass knuckles had nothing to do with actual guilt or anything absurd like that.

He tore his eyes away from Lelouch, who had been watching him expectantly for a reaction; from C.C., stretched across the sofa languidly like a cat; trying to swallow down the lump threatening to rise in his throat. The red stone embedded into the hat flashed in the dim light, and Suzaku's breath caught in his throat.

It was definitely the hat.

::

The (soon to be former) knight lay for a good half an hour staring at the ceiling until the ridiculously extravagant painting blurred before his eyes and he had to blink twice to make sure that he was still seeing. He would do this. He would slay the demon and become the hero, the true knight in shining armor. He would have everything he had pined for months ago at his fingertips – the death of his enemy and the possibility of his own death (though it would be just like Lelouch to order any guards nearby not to come armed – this was Suzaku's punishment as well) finally within his grasp.

And yet, somehow, the thought was not nearly as comforting as it had once been. No, not comforting. All it had done was provoke the raging beast in his chest, fuel its desire to see Euphemia finally avenged. Now, there wasn't even the slightest stir.

He clenched his hands into fists, gathering up bunches of the too-soft sheets as though he would somehow find the strength to tear them apart. It was gone. All of his anger, his fire, his raison d'etre had disappeared the moment the plan had been set in stone. (It would be just like Lelouch to take away both the option of death and any reason to survive.)

No. Not Lelouch.

It would do him no good to go thinking of Lelouch – of the scrawny, out-of-shape kid he'd challenge to games of tag because he knew there was no way the prince would catch up. Of the scowling child who had boldly declared his revenge on Britannia, his father, the whole world for his mother's death, only to have the truth dropped down on him like an anchor. Of-

The door sliding open cut through his reverie like a saw, and he scrambled out of bed a disoriented mess.

"Are you ready?" (Speak of the devil) Lelouch was already dressed in his long robes, the "eye" of the demonic-looking pincushion freezing Suzaku to the spot.

"Yeah..." (It wasn't his fault if the sight of the boy made his throat go sandpaper dry either.)

"Yes, Your Highness," Lelouch corrected. It may have been a trick of the light, but Suzaku swore he saw a sad, weary smile on the emperor's face. "No more."

Whether he meant no more fighting or no more biding time until his death, Suzaku didn't care to know. He just stood rooted to the spot as Lelouch walked into his room, and placed the spiny black mask into his hands. The helmet-like mask felt heavier than lead.

"Come along, Knight," Lelouch said, motioning for Suzaku to follow him. The eye was still glaring him down. "If you don't show up on time, I'll haunt you."

Suzaku swallowed, ignoring the feeling that his stomach had turned itself inside out. The lump in his throat felt big enough to choke him. He looked down at the "face" of his enemy, now resting in his hands, the face of a rebellion and thought of the symbol of despair perched atop his friend's head like a bird.

It really was a stupid hat.