After the whirlwind of events had subsided, I returned to my room in the Ashford Clubhouse and threw myself onto the bed.
"Haa..."
I stared at the ceiling, exhaling a long, weary breath.
The mischievous laughter of Rivalz, Shirley, and President Milly still echoed in my ears. Paradoxically, the boisterous energy of the Student Council members had served as a lifeline, dragging me back from the abyssal depths of my own paranoia.
'Right. I must stop doubting them.'
I closed my eyes, recalling Milly's warmth and the genuine concern reflected in Shirley's eyes. They treated me as Lelouch—their friend, their junior. They were not mere characters from an animation I once watched; they were living, breathing individuals who laughed and bickered by my side.
Even if a so-called "fan" were hiding among them, I refused to dismiss the kindness they showed me in this moment as mere artifice.
'Being a transmigrator doesn't mean I have to shoulder every burden alone and view everyone with suspicion. To do so would only lead to the same path of isolation that the original Lelouch walked.'
As I cleared my mind, the cognitive circuits that had been paralyzed by fear began to cool. My analytical faculties returned to their sharp, calculating baseline. I approached my desk and retrieved the letter I had hidden deep within the drawer.
[Who are you? — P.S. From a fan who loves Lelouch vi Britannia.]
Now, let us strip away the emotion and analyze this through the cold lens of a reader who knows the original plot.
The identity of the individual who sent this letter, and the mastermind who whisked Suzaku Kururugi away to a Class-A classified unit... the probability that they are one and the same is exceedingly high.
'First, I can exclude those in my immediate circle.'
The Student Council members and the core officers of the Black Knights—while they can observe me closely, they lack the political capital to mobilize the military. This mystery hinges on power.
The Shinjuku Ghetto incident hasn't even occurred yet. Clovis is alive and well in the Government Bureau, and the flames of war haven't been ignited. Yet, Suzaku, who should have been a mere grunt in an infantry unit, has vanished from the records?
This implies intervention from the Homeland, a level of authority that supersedes the local administration of Area 11.
'Currently, the Viceroy of Area 11 is Clovis.'
Clovis la Britannia. My half-brother. If he were a transmigrator like me...?
'No, the likelihood is low.'
If someone had possessed Clovis's body, they wouldn't be wasting time sending leisure letters. In the original Stage 1, Clovis was the first sacrificial lamb, executed by my own hand. A transmigrator would be desperately warping the plot to avoid their own demise. Clovis is likely oblivious, currently indulging in some decadent party.
That leaves the Imperial Family back in the Homeland.
'Euphemia? Or perhaps Cornelia?'
The Third Princess, Euphemia, is in the Homeland, and the Second Princess, Cornelia, is busy subjugating various Areas on the Middle Eastern front. Euphemia hasn't been appointed Sub-Viceroy yet, and she has no justification for being here. But if she were a transmigrator? If she used her Imperial authority from the Homeland to remotely secure Suzaku and send me this letter?
'It's possible. However, Euphemia would find it difficult to interfere in military personnel matters alone. She would need Cornelia's support...'
While Cornelia could certainly do it if she were the transmigrator, she is currently occupied with a campaign. It's hard to imagine her focusing her attention here.
There is one more suspect, the most formidable of them all.
'Schneizel el Britannia.'
The Prime Minister of the Empire—a broken, top-tier character whose every stat is maximized. Sitting in the Homeland, he could reshuffle the personnel of Area 11 with a single flick of his finger. Furthermore, Schneizel is the primary sponsor of the Special Dispatch Guidance Technical Division—the unit I suspect Suzaku has been transferred to.
'Could Schneizel be the transmigrator? That would be a complete collapse of tactical balance.'
However, if the soul within Schneizel isn't quite as brilliant as the original, but merely an average transmigrator using his immense power, these petty provocations would make sense.
"Dammit."
With too many variables and not enough data, I threw my pen onto the desk in frustration. I was shadowboxing against an enemy hidden in the darkness who was likely enjoying my every reaction. But one thing was certain.
The perpetrator is undoubtedly a transmigrator who realized I am warping the original plot. By using the word "fan," they have positioned themselves not just as an adversary, but as a spectator—an audience member waiting to see how I steer this narrative.
'Moreover, Suzaku's transfer... that is the greatest catastrophe.'
Initially, I thought it was just an inconvenient variable. On second thought, it's a disaster. If Suzaku was plucked from a regular unit and sent straight to Lloyd's Special Dispatch unit...
'It means he'll be piloting the Lancelot far earlier than intended!'
In the original story, he became the pilot of the Lancelot by pure happenstance during the Shinjuku incident. Now, someone has handpicked him. This was a deliberate attempt to cultivate Suzaku as the Lancelot's pilot from the start. When the Shinjuku incident eventually breaks, I won't be facing an untrained civilian Suzaku, but a formally trained, combat-ready pilot in a Knightmare of god-like proportions.
A chill ran down my spine. Even an unpolished Suzaku was a monster; a Suzaku deployed early with formal training increased the difficulty of my survival exponentially. Did this individual foresee my strengthening of the Black Knights and prepare a counter-measure?
'Fine. If you want a show, I shall give you one you won't forget.'
I rose and walked to the window. Beyond the glass, the peaceful night view of Ashford Academy lay below. I had yet to obtain Geass. I had yet to meet C.C. We hadn't even reached the starting line of the original plot.
With my current strength, I cannot reach an enemy hidden in the shadows. All I can do is protect my territory. I must expand the Black Knights and build a taller, stronger fortress to protect Nunnally and my friends. I must seize power faster than the arrival of that white monster.
'If Suzaku returns stronger than before, I must prepare to exceed even that.'
The variables have shifted toward a worst-case scenario, but I cannot afford to falter. If you wish to watch as a "fan," then watch. But I guarantee you, the story will not follow the script you remember.
"Keep watching, my mysterious fan," I murmured softly to the night sky, my voice heavy with resolve.
"If you're looking for a repeat of the original story, then sit back and eat your popcorn. Because I'm going to write the ending in my own way."
**
The following afternoon at the Ashford Clubhouse.
A strange tension permeated the Student Council room following the commotion in the infirmary. Rivalz looked at me as if I were a traitor who had stolen the President, and Shirley, still flushed with anger, avoided my gaze. Nina seemed even more withdrawn than usual.
"Haa..."
I sighed and left the room, heading toward my own. Clearing up yesterday's misunderstanding would take time. As I reached my door, a familiar silhouette emerged from the shadows of the hallway.
"...How are you feeling?"
It was Kallen Stadtfeld. Unlike her usual confident demeanor, she stood there looking somewhat hesitant.
"Kallen? I thought you were skipping academy this week?"
"I heard you were ill yesterday... and I got worried. So I came," she replied brusquely, though her eyes betrayed her deep concern.
'A narrow escape. If Kallen had seen that scene...'
If she had caught me weeping in Milly's arms, I might have died of embarrassment. I shrugged nonchalantly, feigning composure.
"It's nothing. Just a bit of accumulated fatigue."
"Liar. You haven't been sleeping properly lately."
Kallen stepped forward, scrutinizing my face. Her gaze searched every inch of my features. "You're pale, and you have dark circles... Look, I know the Black Knights are important, but you can't overdo it. What happens to us if you collapse?"
Her voice trembled slightly. She was truly worried for Lelouch. In that moment, the remnants of suspicion that had been gnawing at my heart since the letter arrived were washed away. If I were to doubt the look in her eyes, I would be forfeiting my very humanity.
'At least you... you are truly on my side.'
A sense of relief sparked a rare impulse for mischief. Perhaps it was because the tension had snapped, or perhaps because her honest gaze was simply too dazzling.
"Well, I suppose I do need some medicine."
"Medicine? Didn't you get any from the infirmary? Shall I get some for you?" Kallen asked, looking ready to dash off at a moment's notice.
I chuckled and tapped my cheek with a finger. "No, not that kind. I think I'd be all better if you gave me a kiss."
"...What?"
Kallen froze. A heavy silence hung in the air as her face rapidly turned as red as a ripe apple.
"Wha—wha—what are you saying, you idiot! Are you out of your mind?!"
"Ack! Stop! That hurts, Kallen!"
Panicking, she pinched my side relentlessly. It wasn't a joke; it actually stung. "You call yourself a patient? You shouldn't joke about such things!"
"No, I'm serious..."
"Shut up!"
Kallen turned away with a huff, though the tips of her ears were crimson. She hesitated, clenched her fists, and then glared at me again.
"...Is it true?"
"Hmm?"
"Is it true that you'll feel better if I do it?" Her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper.
I stared at her, stunned. I hadn't expected her to actually take me up on it. Before I could answer, she lunged forward.
Chu.*
A soft, warm sensation touched my lips and pulled away in an instant. Though it was brief, the warmth lingered like a phantom brand.
"...Happy now?" Kallen muttered, looking everywhere but at me.
"Idiot. Please, take care of yourself. You... you aren't alone."
Every word she spoke carved itself into my heart. 'You aren't alone.' The crushing solitude I had felt since receiving that letter vanished under the weight of her clumsy comfort. I couldn't help but laugh.
"Why are you laughing?! It's embarrassing enough!"
"Nothing, I'm just happy." I reached out and caught Kallen's wrist, pulling her toward me.
"Hey, what are you—!" She lost her balance and stumbled into me. I pulled her into an embrace. If Milly's hug yesterday was a harbor of peace, Kallen's embrace was a heat that set my heart racing. I could feel the rapid thumping of her heart against my chest.
"Wait, Lelouch... you..."
"Thank you, Kallen," I whispered in her ear. "I'm glad you're here. Truly."
"..."
Kallen stopped struggling. She hesitated for a moment before carefully resting her hands on my back. "...As long as you know. Just don't get sick."
Though her voice was gruff, the way she patted my back was infinitely gentle. I held her tighter and finally voiced the thought I had been holding back.
"I like you, Kallen."
"...!!"
She stiffened in my arms, but this time, she didn't push me away. A moment later, a voice as tiny as a mosquito's hum drifted from where she had buried her face in my chest.
"...Me... me too..."
"What was that?"
"I said I like you too, you idiot!"
I couldn't suppress a grin at her shy confession. "Hahaha!"
"Seriously! Stop laughing!"
A hidden enemy, a distorted future, and a mysterious "fan." In the face of the trials to come, I wanted to believe that this warmth, at least, was real. We stood there for a long while, sharing each other's heat.