My school life had become remarkably serene ever since the alliance with Kallen was forged.
She no longer viewed me with blatant suspicion, nor did she treat me like a pervert anymore.
Of course, she still flinched and glared at me whenever our paths crossed in the Student Council room, but her gaze held a sort of adorable menace—a silent warning that whispered, 'Try anything strange, and you're dead.'
Surprisingly, Kallen adapted to the Student Council quite well.
She would grumble about President Milly's eccentric event planning—revealing her true self only in whispers meant for my ears—yet the moment Shirley approached, she would flawlessly revert to her 'sickly girl' persona and begrudgingly assist with the paperwork.
"Sigh, is she actually sane? This is madness."
"Is this not the very essence of youth, the charm of school life?" I replied smoothly.
"…Hah?"
Seeing her open up to me, even if only slightly, was entertaining. I had to stifle a laugh at her quintessential tsundere behavior.
With Kallen as the final piece of the puzzle, my 'outsourcing system' functioned flawlessly. I merely had to sit in my Vice Presidential seat, sip the black tea Shirley brewed for me, and offer appropriate praise and encouragement to the members. It was the ideal image of leadership I had always dreamed of.
However, there was one lingering concern.
"Lulu~ here, say 'ah'! I baked these cookies myself this morning!"
"Oh my, Shirley. The Vice President is currently suffering from a headache thanks to the budget proposal. Here, Lulu. Let me massage your shoulders for you."
"Lelouch! You bastard, you're literally a flower in each hand! I'm dying of envy here!"
The displays of affection from Shirley and Milly-senpai were becoming increasingly overt. As Shirley clung to my arm, Milly-senpai would seize the other.
"You're so lucky, it's criminal!" Rivalz shouted, but I couldn't bring myself to smile.
Shirley Fenette. In the original timeline, she was a figure destined for tragedy, losing her father and eventually meeting a wretched end all because of Lelouch. The more I accepted her pure goodwill, the more I felt like I was shoving her toward a deeper abyss.
And Milly Ashford—while she acted bright and boisterous, she bore the crushing weight of restoring her fallen house. Her engagement to a self-absorbed eccentric like Lloyd was strictly for the sake of the family. In the canon, she never managed to truly show Lelouch her true feelings, remaining merely a reliable ally and a memory of their school days.
I shouldn't involve these people, who were just trying to live ordinary lives, in my struggle. Knowing what horrors the future held, the right thing to do was to push them away. Could I, someone who lacked even the transcendent intellect of the original Lelouch, truly protect them?
One evening, after the Student Council duties ended and everyone else had departed, I remained alone in the room, gazing out the window.
'What should I do…?'
Suddenly, a cautious voice drifted from behind me.
"Lulu, you haven't left yet?"
It was Shirley. She approached and handed me a mug filled with warm cocoa.
"You looked exhausted today. Drink this and cheer up."
"…Thank you, Shirley."
I couldn't bring myself to meet her eyes, focusing instead on the mug. Her kindness pierced my heart like a blade.
"Say, Lulu… is something bothering you? Lately, when I look at you, your eyes seem so sad."
My heart sank at her words. I forced a smile and shook my head.
"No, it's nothing. Just… the Student Council work has been a bit overwhelming."
"Liar. You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"
As Shirley persisted, I stood up to evade the interrogation.
"It's getting late. Nunnally will be waiting. I'll head out first."
"Lulu…"
I walked past her and exited the room, desperately ignoring the wounded tone in her voice. Walking back to the Clubhouse, the moon in the night sky felt exceptionally cold.
'What exactly am I doing?'
My footsteps grew heavier as I neared my home. Beyond those windows, the warm light flickered—the place where Nunnally waited, the only person in this world who looked to me as her 'Big Brother.'
Suddenly, I remembered the day I first arrived in this world.
I had been an NCO in the military, on my way home after being discharged. I was dreaming of returning to a mundane life when I was struck by a truck—the quintessential trope of transmigration. When I opened my eyes, I had become Lelouch Lamperouge.
At first, I was elated. A handsome face, the protagonist of an anime I loved, and above all, the knowledge of the original plot. To be honest, I was thrilled at the prospect of gaining Geass and living a leisurely life as a harem king. But those delusions were shattered by the voice of a single girl.
"Big Brother, are you unwell? Your face is pale."
A small girl sitting in a wheelchair. Though her eyes lacked light, they were directed toward me more clearly and transparently than any others. Nunnally. Lelouch's only blood relative, the being for whom he was willing to sacrifice everything to protect.
In that moment, I was plunged into confusion. What was this emotion? This protective instinct and yearning boiling within my chest—did it belong to the original Lelouch, or to the 'me' inhabiting his body? To someone who grew up as an only child and had never considered anyone a younger sibling, the title of 'Big Brother' was unfamiliar, yet heart-wrenching.
A girl who had lost her sight and the use of her legs due to the trauma of witnessing her mother's assassination. For her, the only world she had left was her brother—me. Every time she held my hand and smiled, I felt a simultaneous wave of guilt for stealing Lelouch's body and an intense sense of duty to protect this child at all costs.
At first, I thought of it as a form of penance. But the longer we spent together, the more those feelings transcended simple guilt. Nunnally's smile, Shirley's kindness, Milly's vivacity, Rivalz's clamor, and even Kallen's tsundere nature—the people I once saw merely as animated characters had become precious, irreplaceable connections bound by affection.
That was why I was afraid. I wanted to protect this precarious paradise. But the path I had to tread to save them was one stained with blood and betrayal: the path of revolution. Could I, who lacked the genius of the original, truly succeed? Or would my clumsy plans only lead them into greater peril?
'I don't want to lose them.'
The mere thought of losing them made my heart stop. The original Lelouch stood against the world prepared to lose everything. But what about me? I wanted to lose nothing. I was merely a greedy, cowardly mortal who wanted to save the world and keep his happiness simultaneously.
"…Big Brother?"
Nunnally's voice from inside the Clubhouse pulled me back to reality as I stood frozen at the door. I took a deep breath to clear my cluttered mind, forced a smile, and opened the door.
"I'm home, Nunnally."
I made my decision. I would protect them. By whatever means necessary. Without hurting them, while maintaining this daily life, I would crush the Emperor's ambitions.
I didn't yet realize how arrogant and nearly impossible that goal was. My only thought was of guarding the precious things before my eyes.
Time flowed heartlessly amidst this precarious peace. In the Student Council, Milly-senpai continued to plan bizarre events without pause, and I spent my days as an 'incompetent' commander, efficiently mobilizing my troops for leisure. But the internal anxiety refused to fade. Every time I faced Shirley or Milly's sincerity, I was gripped by the guilt of deceiving them and the terror of losing them in the inevitable future.
Suffocated by these thoughts, I left the academy alone on a Saturday morning. I had no specific destination; I simply needed time to organize my mind.
'I have no Geass, and I lack the intellect to fleece nobles at the chessboard…'
If I were the original Lelouch, I'd be securing funds by defeating aristocrats in chess matches right now. But I lacked that capacity. All I could do was wander the streets aimlessly, waiting for destiny to arrive.
I left the glittering Settlement where the Britannians resided and turned into a somewhat dilapidated shopping district. There, across the street, an unmistakably familiar silhouette caught my eye. Her hat was pulled low, but a shock of red hair was visible—it was Kallen. Unlike her usual self, she was scanning her surroundings with eyes full of wariness.
Surrounding her were the faces I had seen on the street a few days prior. The leader Ohgi, the simple-minded Tamaki, and other members. They were all carrying large bags or rucksacks, dispersing toward the Ghetto as if according to a prearranged plan.
'That is…'
I instinctively hid. Their movements were far from ordinary. Their gait and expressions were heavy with tension, as if they were transporting something of immense value.
'Smuggling?'
I scoured the memories of the original plot. The Resistance operated the Glasgow, an outdated Knightmare Frame, to oppose the Britannian military. However, Sakuradite—the fuel required to power them—was a core resource strictly monopolized by Britannia. This meant they were likely on their way to purchase Sakuradite through the black market. The bags surely contained the funds for the transaction. Such black-market dealings were always fraught with danger.
Just then, two Britannian soldiers on patrol approached from the opposite direction.
"Damn it, a patrol," Tamaki hissed.
"Stay calm, everyone," Ohgi said in a low voice. "Act like normal pedestrians."
Anxiety was etched onto their faces. At this rate, they would cross paths. If they were stopped for questioning and their funds were discovered, a bloody confrontation would be unavoidable.
'Even if I don't intervene, surely nothing will happen until the Shinjuku incident, just like the original?'
Hesitation bloomed in my mind. Yet, my body was already moving toward the soldiers. 'Sigh… whatever happens, happens.'
I brushed past a pedestrian and skillfully slipped my wallet into his back pocket. Then, I shouted with all my might.
"Thief! That man stole my wallet!"
The patrolling soldiers immediately focused on the outcry. Startled by the sudden commotion, Kallen's group also froze.
"What's going on?"
"Is it a fight between Britannians?"
As Ohgi tried to assess the situation, Kallen grabbed his arm.
"Now's our chance, Ohgi-san! Let's go!"
Thanks to her quick judgment, the group took advantage of the distracted soldiers and vanished into an alleyway. Success.
"You thief!" I yelled, grabbing the man.
"Wh-what? No! I didn't—!"
"What's the trouble here?" the soldiers demanded.
The man shouted his innocence in a panic, but the soldiers reached out and frisked him without ceremony. To my surprise, not only did my wallet fall out of his pocket, but several other wallets cascaded onto the pavement.
'Wait, was he actually a pickpocket?'
The soldiers threw him to the ground and began to beat him mercilessly.
"This is why Elevens are hopeless."
"You there, show me your identification."
One of the soldiers approached as I picked up my wallet. His attitude softened as soon as he saw my Ashford Academy student ID.
"Ashford Academy? What is a student doing in a dangerous place like this? Go home at once."
"Yes, sir. I understand."
The soldiers dragged the pickpocket away after giving him a thorough thrashing. I hurried away from the scene, but soon realized I had a significant problem. I was lost.
"Where the hell am I…?"
I had inadvertently wandered deep into the Ghetto. The security here wasn't something my weak constitution could handle. As I walked, looking for an exit, I spotted shadows moving inside a derelict factory. It was Kallen's group.
Watching from cover, I realized they were conducting a transaction. Their counterparts weren't Japanese, but Britannians—likely smugglers. 'They came this deep into the Ghetto to trade?'
Scanning the perimeter, I noticed several men armed with rifles hidden on the second floor of the factory.
'Could it be… a trap!'
Such smuggling deals were inherently perilous. It was common for transactions to fall apart and result in armed conflict, or for one side to simply overpower the other to seize the goods by force.
'Damn it, is there anything I can even do?'
I looked at a stone rolling near my feet. You only die once, right? Wait, I already died once, so would this be the second time? Brushing aside the useless thoughts to calm my nerves, I crept up behind the closest man on the second floor.
*Thwack!*
"Gah!"
I slammed the stone into the back of his head. Fortunately, he collapsed without making much noise. *Pant, pant!* My heart was racing and my hands were trembling, but as I took a deep breath and picked up the automatic rifle he had been holding, an odd sense of calm washed over me.
'Heh… believe it or not, I was an Elite Marksman back during my service.'
Though I was in a weakling's body now, my physical memory of how to handle a firearm remained intact. K1, K2, K3, M60, Carbine, M16, even the K5 pistol… as a logistics officer, there wasn't a weapon I hadn't touched. The hours spent at shooting ranges and being dragged into airsoft matches by a friend were finally paying off. I was confident in my marksmanship.
'Good.'
As I steadied myself, shouting erupted from the floor below. The deal had gone south.
"What? This is all the money? Are you joking with me!"
"That's not what we agreed! Hand over the Sakuradite first!"
Then, a gunshot echoed. Simultaneously with Ohgi's scream, I pulled the trigger from the second floor.
"Shit, get down!"
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
My bullets struck the ground exactly at the smugglers' feet. Startled, they looked up toward the second floor. Down below, Kallen and Ohgi looked equally bewildered.
"Did we have someone on the second floor?" Tamaki yelled.
"No, we didn't set any lookouts! Who the hell is that!" Ohgi shouted in confusion.
I exploited their chaos. Without showing my face, I constantly shifted positions and provided suppressive fire. Realizing the situation, Kallen quickly returned fire, helping to suppress the smugglers. Caught in a sudden crossfire, the smugglers finally broke.
"To hell with this, run!"
They abandoned the goods and fled. Once the area was secure, Ohgi called out to the second floor.
"Who's there! Did you help us?"
Instead of answering, I stripped the jacket off the unconscious man to use as a makeshift hood, jumped out a window, and vanished into the darkness. I couldn't let them know who I was yet.
When I finally cleared the Ghetto, my legs gave out and I collapsed. Though I hadn't shot a person, the thrill and relief of my first actual gunfight pulsed through my body, eclipsing the fear. My heart throbbed as if it would burst.
'I did it… I protected them.'
It was a sense of accomplishment I hadn't felt since the transmigration—the knowledge that I had achieved something through my own will. I might not have Lelouch's genius, but in that moment, I discovered a faint possibility that I could fight in my own way.