That night, Lelouch stayed awake, considering Suzaku's decision to walk away. He asked himself multiple times if it had been right to push Suzaku to do it. He found that it was wise to come to terms with the event, when – in the morning – Jeremiah arrived with his report.

Suzaku trailed at Jeremiah's arm. If Lelouch hadn't steeled himself, he'd have broken apart.

"What is it?" Lelouch asked of them. He still wore his pajama pants, and only remained half-aware of how he wore no shirt to match. He draped like a throw rug on the cushioned window seat, absorbing morning light with his hand pressed to his brow. Did he look disorganized, ruffled? He wondered if he looked pathetic.

"The last rebellion was put down."

"The last?"

"No one can stand against you now."

"No one." Lelouch repeated Gottwald's phrase, glancing at Suzaku, who kept his eyes on the floor. Once or twice Suzaku's gaze flicked toward the hearth… where Lelouch hadn't swept the ashes from the fire.

"No one now, Your Majesty. The Area would like to celebrate." Jeremiah's voice held notes of pride. "The station heads want your victory televised. They've taken your advice about featuring your successes."

"Do you have recommendations for a fitting celebration?"

"A parade, with all the royal floats," said Suzaku, cutting in at last. "And a public execution of the prisoners who defied you."

"Public execution?" Lelouch met Suzaku's gaze. He managed, too, to quell his shiver. "That's egocentric, in extremes. Everyone already loathes me. Why go to an exaggerated length to illustrate my villainous streak when I've just won? I could celebrate with a masquerade ball or a sporting event." Like one of Milly's festivals. The world would loathe him even more if he killed prisoners the same week as—

They'd loathe him more.

Hatred. Of course. He must be very, very tired.

"You're the demon emperor," Suzaku said. "And you're plenty egocentric."

Lelouch had caught Suzaku's meaning. Hate plus more hate equaled Zero Requiem, yes.

Lelouch felt a stab of inward pride along with pain. His knight was doing this just right. Why did he feel betrayed again, then? It wasn't the logistics of the plan that made him dubious. Perhaps it was because… when Suzaku had called him egocentric—

It didn't matter, though, did it. Lelouch cinched his lips and curtly nodded his approval. Suzaku did not intend that Lelouch carry out the execution – that much Lelouch could determine, even tired. The plan would never get that far; they wouldn't shoot down innocents. But by announcing the event, more hate would pile on Lelouch. Requiem depended on the power of that hatred, and Lelouch would not waste an opportunity to heap it higher.

His nod, however, prompted neither he nor Suzaku to relax.

"Well then." Jeremiah glanced a little too exaggeratedly between the two of them. Lelouch blinked and straightened at the window. "Shall I arrange it, with Your Majesty's permission? I imagine preparations would take but twenty-four hours." Jeremiah met Lelouch's eyes, his manner dauntless.

"I will do as Kururugi wishes," Lelouch said, skin prickling, the moment before grasping what hid behind Jeremiah's different mannerism. Many points might muddle or deceive the mind… but not Lelouch's. Not long. Even tired.

I imagine preparations would take but twenty-four hours.

Jeremiah Gottwald 'imagined' nothing – he simply learned, then acted with his grim precision. A task was done once it had been completed. The time it took to do it rarely mattered. Jeremiah would toil until goals were reached, often finishing well before anyone expected – unless he had encountered some delay… or received specific orders about timing. Then he'd slow down or speed up as necessary.

The time window for this parade was specific and noteworthy, or Jeremiah would not have mentioned it. But why must the parade be held at that time? Could it not be scheduled more conveniently, around the demon emperor's whim? Yes, they had to take advantage of the public's stewing hatred in order to build to Zero Requiem's conclusion. But, how come….

Before full comprehension formed itself into words in Lelouch's mind, Lelouch had made a cracked sound in the back of his throat. He dropped against the windowpane, surmising it.

Twenty-four hours was the limit, the last time-stretch they had to build Requiem up, because Suzaku had decided – finally – that that was when Lelouch would die.

Suzaku and Jeremiah weren't scheduling events around the parade; they were scheduling events and the parade around Zero Requiem. It was even possible the parade had been designed as a distraction.

"Are you all right?" Suzaku asked.

"Clearing my throat." No one reacted. Lelouch strove for composure. "Breakfast," he said, grasping weakly after subject change.

"We've already eaten, Majesty," said Jeremiah. "If you, however, wish to dine—"

"He doesn't eat this early," Suzaku muttered. The statement was neutral, neither malicious nor genuine.

Lelouch wanted to strangle both of them.

Twenty-four hours… and then he would die. Suzaku had decided the time was now. Hatred for Lelouch outside was high, they couldn't sleep together any more…. Suzaku had laid out all the plans before now, but not the timing of them; he'd left that to circumstance. And when the circumstance had seemed right, finally, he'd launched his plans… and in a military mannerism.

Twenty-four hours. Enough time in a soldier's mind for anything – but not so much interim allowance that an operation planned would start losing its steam. Also not so little leeway for hiccups that the operation would scramble to conduct itself on time. Suzaku had applied a soldier's thinking to the task of murdering Lelouch, despite its magnitude – and he'd approached Lelouch's end like a squadron pinning down some terrorists. You have twenty-four hours to surrender and come out, or we will bomb your hideaway. Plan to a degree, but then turn to improvisation.

Lelouch looked at Jeremiah and Suzaku as if they were mannequins, devoid of perception. Did Jeremiah believe himself subtle? Lelouch had told them all he didn't want to figure out when he would die! This was the problem with the Britannian military way of thinking; everyone remained predictable, and everyone thought he could keep secrets secret. Everyone thought he could just improvise, because status or reputation or intimidation or faith or ideals would account for the rest. No one planned, predicted, or calculated to the extent that Lelouch always had. Zero would have— If this were Zero, he'd—

Ah, but Suzaku was Zero now. Yes. How could Lelouch speak out against it?

He already knew that he wouldn't. He couldn't. And if Lelouch were honest, Zero often improvised. To rely too closely on a plan that might go wrong was folly, lack of foresight.

Lelouch's skin felt hot and cold. So, this was when his death would come about.

Suzaku swept into a bow, seemingly unaffected by Lelouch's pale expression. His cape fluttered, and then he left the room.

Lelouch's sorrow rekindled itself.

Jeremiah followed Suzaku out. "I'll keep you updated, Your Majesty."

"No need. Just tell me when the float is leaving." Lelouch stayed alone, for a long, long time.

Then he stood and went to find C.C..

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" C.C. asked when he walked in, expecting Lelouch not to answer her. She sat inside her room, slurping at pizza. If their recent lawn luncheon had upset her, she showed none of her torn emotions now.

Lelouch said, "Suzaku is planning a parade."

C.C.'s movements slightly hitched. "Hah. You came in here to tell me that? What do I care about some parade? Parades are for exaggerated queens. I'm sure you know."

Lelouch looked at her. Memorized her features.

"I'll stay here and eat pizza, Lelouch. Really."

The lie did not look pretty on her face. Lelouch took the cheese pizza from her hands, drawing C.C. up and off the couch.

She kept trying. "To tear a woman from her pizza—"

"C.C.."

He said it with finality. He said it like he'd said, I love you to a Geassed Nunnally. He put the pizza slice down in the box. "Thank you for all you've done for me."

A pause fell on them. "Ah. I see." C.C. adopted a quick smile. "You need more chances for uninterrupted sex. Why don't you just admit that you've dismissed females and thus our threesome, horny boy?"

"Don't play around, C.C. This is goodbye."

She spent a long time looking at his eyes. Lelouch allowed his heart to show there, raw.

"Lelouch." C.C.'s voice murmured, after a time. "Will you stamp out everyone you love before you die?"

Lelouch was careful not to ask C.C. what part she'd played in planning the parade. Was the parade a distraction, or Lelouch's deathtrap? Was there some other plan? How was Lelouch really going to die? Even if he now knew when….

He kept his voice even and calm. "My love is about to become incidental. In less than a day, the world will hate me more than it has ever hated me before, and more than it will ever be able to hate again. Suzaku has put me behind him. Do you understand, C.C.?"

He didn't want her knowing that he knew, and yet he did. He didn't want to talk about it, make it that much more real; he didn't want to make her ask how much he had divined from conversations, and yet…. She was his witch. She ought to know—

"History will never know how dumb you were in person."

"Live and write the history, C.C.. But for now, pack your bags and go away." He didn't smile. "My love for you will make me weak, when I need more than ever to be strong. "

"Weak!" C.C. was chuckling now – as if she could make up for his stone-faced approach to the adieu. Moisture glittered in her eyes. "Love, make you weak? You're a boy after all."

Lelouch said, "Only on the outside."

He waited to see whether she'd rebuke him. She didn't; she hugged herself and glanced around for Cheese-kun.

This really was their goodbye, wasn't it. Lelouch cleared his throat, capturing her gaze again. He waited now only for C.C. to accept what they both knew was a request. Never an order, for someone like her.

I'm asking you to leave, so you don't have to watch me die.

"Very well, Lelouch. But I'm not going far." She said it and Lelouch tried not to sigh. "I'll be nearby, until you're gone. After all, I'm still your accomplice."

She told Lelouch that she would go stay near the chapel.

Lelouch frowned. He said, "Religion?"

C.C. closed her other pizza boxes. "I'll pray that when you get to Hell, the Devil gives up right away and lets you rule as emperor there too. Perhaps then, when I make it down, the underworld will be a better place."

She thought he would conquer the next world as well. "I'm going to heaven, you impudent witch."

They smiled at the joke of it. She kissed Lelouch and squeezed his shaking hands.

"Farewell, Lelouch." She walked him to the door.

He felt a little silly, standing after, in the hall. She moved around inside the room, but Lelouch couldn't go back in.

He'd said goodbye. Goodbyes never went quite as planned. Better, perhaps, to improvise what partings he had left… or just avoid goodbyes entirely.

He spent time in the library. He tried not to think about how reading consumed his hours. What did Lelouch want to do with his time? Just normal things. Not think. Just be.

"Jeremiah," Lelouch ventured, when the man came through the rows of books to tell him it had gotten late. "Your level of attention is acute. My mother was a lucky knight."

"There's no need to mock me, please, Your Majesty. It is an obscene hour, and you've been here for—"

"I didn't mean to mock. I'm expressing gratitude."

Jeremiah's one human eye combed him. Then he dropped into a bow. "If that is the case, then let me also express mine."

Jeremiah bared his neck. The bow said, You have earned my most professional respect. It wasn't dedication, or that warm, familial love. The bow showed a businesslike deference – but it was the kind Lelouch knew Jeremiah reserved only for those he admired. Those untouchable, like Marianne.

Jeremiah Gottwald held the bow, until an overcome Lelouch suggested that he rise.

Lelouch took a long and ambling stroll outside, refusing Jeremiah's company. He breathed the scents of flowers on the air. He found the lily scent too strong. He thought about clusters of clover instead – how they would look dewy, dozing in the humid night.

When Lelouch went back indoors, the time was late indeed. Tiny hours made themselves known on the hallway clocks. Past one a.m.. Lelouch examined the hall paintings. Two a.m.. He made his way into the foyer.

Suzaku sat shining his boots on the floor, at the epicenter of the entryway. He ignored the smattering of posted guards, and the posted guards completely ignored him. At last accustomed to the Geass that made them all believe him dead, it seemed. That or just defiant of it. Or wanting to surround himself with irony. Unclear, Lelouch decided wearily.

"What's the matter?" Suzaku asked, without looking up at the falling of steps.

"Nothing, Suzaku," Lelouch said. He reached the staircase and looked at its velvet-swathed incline. He put his hand upon the banister, tracing the veins on the marble.

"No," said Suzaku. "Don't just lie." A little of the old, familiar darkness tinged the words. The rasping sound of scrubbing carried on.

Could Suzaku read Lelouch so very well? He wondered if Suzaku had noticed C.C. pack her bags and slip away.

Lelouch wished he could tell Suzaku everything he knew and feared. The tension… the lingering pressure to solvethings Lelouch knew were unsolvable could have been quantified in pounds. But what could Lelouch do, just now? What could Suzaku do, if he understood? Wasn't it enough, to let Lelouch retire to bed, for what would be the last chance in his life at having dreams?

Or maybe Lelouch wanted to stay right here. Here, where he could watch Suzaku work until the dawn. Suzaku sat digging that toothbrush into the cracks in his boots with greasy leather cleaner. The simple things. The actions of a human life.

"It's nothing, Suzaku." Lelouch tried to mean it.

Suzaku saw Lelouch's hand tremble upon the banister. The swishing of the toothbrush stopped. A wrist came up to swipe across his brow. "Is there anything you think you want to do? We could, I don't know. Go look up at the stars." Suzaku phrased his questions neutrally. He buffed his shining boot and dried his hands.

Lelouch ignored Suzaku's empty queries in favor of posing his own. "Is there anything you feel you want to ask me?"

Suzaku was the one who needed loose ends tied off – soon. Unanswered questions and silly curiosities would never be addressed, if they were not addressed tonight before Lelouch died. Did Suzaku want excuses from him? Explanations for a plethora of deeds? To know what kind of shampoo Lelouch used, or why he had picked Hamlet out to read?

"No, Lelouch. There isn't anything."

Lelouch said, "Ah." Indeed. What should he make of that? "Then I guess stargazing is fine."

He waited for Suzaku to stand, to process that Lelouch was accepting the offer posed. Gazing at stars was as flimsy a consolation prize and as disingenuous an offer of comfort as Suzaku's frown instantly said he'd known it was. Lelouch did not particularly mind Suzaku's deceit, or his careful impassivity, or his consternation that Lelouch had agreed. What Suzaku didn't see…. The real gift Suzaku had offered when he'd spoken… was more time they could spend together. Despite that Suzaku had burdens of his own to attend to, like grooming himself for an emperor's murder, he'd given Lelouch an opportunity to monopolize some attention.

And hell if Lelouch wouldn't take it. Improvising.

Suzaku said, "I know where we can go."

Lelouch allowed himself to be led to the palace roof. Lloyd's telescope loomed there, one great dome. They walked around its gleaming side, and Lelouch read the etched inscription on it.

To Earl Pudding, On His Birthday, So He Can Find The Black Hole Where His Sanity And Heart Have Gone.

Lelouch exhaled a chuckle through his nose. He wondered if seeming-insanity was a prerequisite for creating something grand.

Grand. Destroying and creating the world was something grand as well. Or so he hoped.

Lelouch looked at the stars, craning his neck, when Suzaku said, "I think I know Orion and the Dippers."

The stars shined on the planes of Suzaku's face like moonlight on a glass tide pool. Maybe Lelouch could become a star, too – a sharp, glittering fleck of light that watched over Suzaku – once he died. Lit up Suzaku's exquisite expressions for someone to see on a windless, clear night.

Suzaku removed his velvety cape. Lelouch's thoughts skipped from the stars to a different cape – the Zero one. The Zero outfit hugged a little too tightly to Suzaku's shoulders…. But Suzaku had refused to let Lelouch make him another. I want yours, was what Suzaku had said. Lelouch had at least changed the hems at the bottom.

Suzaku spread the cape out on the roof. "Would you like to sit?" he asked.

Lelouch found the question charming. He knew Suzaku hadn't meant the inquiry as such.

He asked a much less charming question back, although it blurted out of him unplanned. "Suzaku. Why did you let us have sex on the Ikaruga?"

Suzaku absorbed the query, freezing, as Lelouch walked toward the railing instead of sitting in the spot Suzaku had made.

The whiteness of his clothing matched the painted wood. Lelouch made a note of his equally white knuckles, wondering if Suzaku were angry with him, if Suzaku would have done anything to keep Lelouch from bringing up events that might have mattered tonight.

"Because I wanted to," Suzaku replied.

"That's not an answer." Lelouch smiled, wry.

Suzaku didn't sit on his cape either. "At that time," Suzaku said, speaking to Lelouch from where he stood, behind, "I'd never felt more conflicted in my life. Your father's Geass had been used on even Anya. Shirley had just died. And I had watched you trick Sir Guilford. Kallen had refused to implicate you, even when I threatened her with some Refrain—"

"You threatened Kallen. With Refrain." You hypocrite.

"I did. She hit me." No remorse. Suzaku felt he'd got what he deserved. "It made me start to think some more. But even getting punched by Kallen couldn't clear my head." The familiar rasp in Suzaku's voice made Lelouch smile more, but soberly. "My uncertainty got worse. Formation of the UFN caught me off guard. Then Nina, asking me if I'd consider strapping FLEIJA on the Lancelot. Nunnally was being used. The whole world was a mess of lies. I had lied, to myself and Nunnally. I started to think I'd been wrong all along. And in the middle of my confliction, you—"

"I took advantage of you, at your weakest."

Lelouch had not yet turned around; he still kept his hands on the railing. He looked at the lawn four stories down, instead of at the vast expanse of stars. If he breathed deeply, he could smell the grass.

"We had sex because I lured you into it. I confused you more, right at the time you should have been feeling most grounded. I was Zero, Suzaku. I gave you angry ultimatums. Instead of fight you fairly, I seduced you. You should have slit my throat for that… but I never provided you the opportunity. Your participation in our intercourse was forced, because sex was the only weapon left at your disposal." Lelouch drew one pale hand across his eyes. "Suzaku, yes. I understand."

He stopped short of thanking Suzaku for his honesty. It wouldn't do either of them a bit of good if Lelouch became reflective now. Suzaku was working up to killing him. He wouldn't want reminders that Lelouch was human – brimming with thoughts, with memories… and Lelouch didn't want to brim with them. He wanted to live in the here and the now. He didn't want to assemble himself, one last time, trying to organize and sum up who he was and what he'd done. How did one summarize or justify a human life?

Suzaku unleashed a soft, frustrated sound. Lelouch heard footsteps. Then his hand was pulled down from his eyes.

Suzaku's hold and his probing gaze were neutral. "No. That isn't it at all. I made a decision, before I got to the shrine. It carried through, into that second meeting. You had called me up, and you'd told me the truth. Never mind that you begged me for help. Never mind that you lied again, when I asked you about Euphy, Shirley, and my Geass. You told me that you were Zero. Those words came from your own lips."

Lelouch swallowed and wrenched his hand away, dissolving Suzaku's light, possessive hold. "I don't understand," he said.

Suzaku looked at Lelouch squarely. "I really like honesty."

Lelouch stared back. And then he laughed. Desperately, shortly, and softly while Suzaku frowned.

"You're telling me that I told you the truth, and it changed your mentality enough that you would sleep with me? You wanted to, simply because of that? You liked hearing that reality so much?"

Suzaku's expression gave him nothing to work with, but his body language said, Don't try me.

Lelouch backed away. "I manipulated you into that whole wanton encounter. We had sex because I hardly allowed you the option not to." He turned, so Suzaku couldn't see his anger.

This was not supposed to happen; Suzaku couldn't say these things. Lelouch, by asking such a question, had only intended to realize again the ways he'd hurt Suzaku when he'd indulged their attraction.

Or so he would tell himself now, for the closure.

Lelouch also needed the rose-tinted lenses cast off, to prepare himself for his last grand act as demon emperor. Yes. Suzaku shouldn't try to sugarcoat the wrongs Lelouch committed. Lelouch needed to hear Suzaku condemn him. For the sake of Requiem.

"I liked—" Suzaku said, and he grabbed Lelouch again, "—that you presented yourself to me without lies. That, for once, I finally saw you. You didn't manipulate me into anything I wasn't willing to give. I liked that you threw away all your pretend, and that when you flew off with Guilford, you did it with a resolve equal to Schneizel's. You did it like Zero, even though we saw your face."

"I took off my masks!" Lelouch cried. "All of them! Even the school persona – the only shred of glue that had been holding us together!" That Lelouch had been the one Suzaku had liked enough to pursue intimately. Hadn't it?

A drop of moisture escaped one Geass eye.

Tch. Lelouch stormed off along the railing, walking to one corner of the roof. He stood there. And then he walked back. He had no time to mull there, did he.

Suzaku, expressing that he'd liked the real Lelouch…. Suzaku was sounding like Charles now, in the Realm of C – speaking of revealing one's whole self to help extinguish lies. Lelouch didn't want to hear this – hear that parts of what his father had dug up about human emotions was spot on. Suzaku appreciated what Lelouch was at his core? Suzaku didn't loathe him, even looking at Lelouch's tainted nucleus.

That was no good. That was no good at all.

"I have fond memories of school," Suzaku whispered. "I wouldn't change them for the world. But fonder memories preceded that. I remembered an unapologetic, exiled prince, who would stop at nothing to get the things he wanted – even from an angry Japanese boy with a wooden sword. That was who I boarded Zero's ship for – that ex-prince – and who I saw again, straddling me, ready all over to do as he pleased."

"Do as I pleased, for my own ego," Lelouch pressed. "For my vengeance! That boy wasn't there. It wasn't boldness, Suzaku. I exposed nothing that you've ever appreciated! No trait that you haven't – time and time again – condemned."

"Vengeance, to you, has always been a sort of justice. The straightforward kind you always preached when we were kids. That isn't the point, Lelouch. The point is, when we decided to meet, you weren't really Zero. When your desires and goals came out – yours, Lelouch's – when you cast Zero off long enough to admit that you were being selfish the whole time, just doing things for Nunnally…. You were showing me the truth. You were making it possible again for us to work together. I liked that. I respected you for it, even if I felt like you'd messed up."

Lelouch flung up his hands. "All that—"

Suzaku did not let him finish. "From the very beginning, from the moment I reunited with you in front of C.C.'s capsule, I knew I'd be happy as long as you thrived, and just stayed you. When I didn't get killed, and I became your classmate, I wanted to watch you, guard you… and be wind under your wings. That meant learning all the truths about you. Stripping down walls and facades. Not fending off swaths of lies. So I'm saying—"

It was Suzaku's turn to hold onto the railing. Lelouch choked back his well of cold replies. All Suzaku had wanted… was the truth from Lelouch? For Lelouch to be himself, no matter how twisted he was?

So easy, for Suzaku to make these claims now. How was Lelouch expected to believe it?

"That doesn't explain why you wanted the sex, why you let us indulge our attraction to a intimate degree, Suzaku, if you were so angry I'd lied!" Lelouch tried to stifle the creak in his voice. He felt he'd go mad… and he might rather die.

Suzaku said again, "I wanted to." A satellite lit up behind him, drifting wide across the sky. Suzaku said, "I loved you, Lelouch."

Thought abandoned Lelouch entirely.

Suzaku's words cracked, like he'd been forced to swallow sand or breath through sawdust. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Love. Loved him.

Past tense. It registered.

Lelouch's failures had extinguished—

"What are you saying you feel for me now?"

But Lelouch didn't need to ask. Hatred, almost certainly. Lelouch prepared himself for the reply. It was the only answer left, the one he as emperor needed.

The Knight of Zero calmly backed away.

Suzaku Kururugi sank down to rest on one knee.

Lelouch choked on an abrupt sob. Suzaku finally, finally knelt? The style of the bow exceeded Jeremiah's reverence. The bareness of Suzaku's neck said, trust. The ardor in his eyes said, passion. The line of his arm at his chest told him, respect. The whole of it said, awe, subservience, and loyalty. Lelouch wanted to touch the locks of hair that curled at the back of Suzaku's neck. He half reached out… but then he drew his pale hand back, because in that instant he had seen it tremble.

Suzaku stayed kneeling, head down, posing steady. Was Suzaku saying he'd surrendered to the soul-bond of a knight to his commander?

A link so fierce that it could not be broken. Stronger than romantic love. A tie that went beyond a carnal lust, beyond the uncertainty of continually-tested friendship. A pledge that spoke of fervent sacrifice.

A bond made of so much surrender that it cast bubbles around each of them, separating them.

Suzaku's body language and his words revealed vast volumes; Lelouch had precious little time to bask in Suzaku's confession. If what Suzaku had come to feel was bigger than the two of them… if all Suzaku's emotions and his loyalties were tied with his knighthood and with Requiem…. If Suzaku felt things so powerful that plainer, personal desires drowned when submerged next to them, then Lelouch's hope of securing their mutual devotion was already gone – and had been, well before Suzaku had left him at the fireplace.

Suzaku could only ever be the sword.

Suzaku remained on his knees, his head bowed. All they were to each other now, all they had been, even when Lelouch had still not understood…. All they could be was a force so impressive that it became untouchable.

That was what Suzaku wanted to show him. That anything they did now led to repercussions capable of twisting worlds. Lelouch could never be allowed to wish for simpler affection, ever again. Nevermore would they share easy closeness. They'd become too complicated, too rich – like a feast that couldn't be stomached by folk accustomed to a simpler fare – although the banquet tempted with its opulence each second it was on the table.

Fate had already decided this. Suzaku's admittance of earlier love – uncomplicated, before Requiem – came too late.

But it remained a miracle that it had come at all.

Suzaku snagged Lelouch's hand – the one that had again gone questing out toward tousled hair. Lelouch could feel Suzaku's warmth, even through Suzaku's gloves, as Suzaku tightened his grip to prevent an indulgent sweep of fingers.

Suzaku's head remained down. "Your Majesty, does that long answer satisfy?"

A hint of apology lent weight to it.

I'm sorry, Lelouch, but we ran out of time.

"I love you," Lelouch told Suzaku in reply.

Suzaku's lips fell open, moist.

If this was the end, Lelouch would say it now, regardless of whether Suzaku believed him. Regardless of whether it changed a damn thing.

"I've always loved you, and I always will. I'm truly sorry I ever denied it. I love you even now, and I will love you when I die. I'll love you from beyond the grave they step upon to curse my name. I love you, profoundly. To the end of time."

Suzaku's lips closed again, becoming waxy-pale.

Lelouch couldn't bear to see Suzaku disturbed. He knew Suzaku had wished to stand up from his bow without such painful conversation. And so Lelouch at last withdrew his hand, and moved back toward the railing.

"Your answer satisfies me, Knight of Zero. Get off your knees. You're dismissed. Go inside."

All was quiet but the crickets, far below them on the lawn. The stars glittered, so very cold and bright.

Suzaku said, once on his feet, "I think we should go on a ride."

Lelouch turned, quietly astounded.

The night breeze breathed, do it. They walked to the garage.

Suzaku unsheathed Guinevere. The tarp billowed; it revealed polished, glimmering curves. Lelouch took a full minute gazing upon it. Recalling. He took in a resigned Suzaku.

"Novelties like this are sometimes romantic." Lelouch repeated the remembered statement.

He climbed on. Suzaku chased the silver moon. They zipped along at speeds worthy of Knightmare frames. The wind got tangled in Lelouch's hair. Neither of them wore their helmets. So reckless…. Lelouch wished, a little, that they'd crash right here. Suzaku would live, but for him… he could go. With Suzaku, now, let this be the way he—

Lelouch shook himself. Shook himself loose and calm. He'd tucked his hat into a fold of his outfit, so it wouldn't fly away. The fingers of pre-dawn licked over the road, draping everything in a tremendous veil of gray. Lelouch took in the static lack of color. The world looked caught in stasis, like a newspaper photo; he wanted to imprint it in his mind and take it to the afterlife.

He pushed aside his hopes and dreams and fears. His heartbeat slowed to sleep-like, and he leaned close to Suzaku.

Suzaku drove with alertness and precision. The easy leaning curves along the road were his design. Suzaku turned the rough ride along alleys to a smooth one. Always beautiful, precise.

Lelouch didn't look at the passing scenery. He didn't need to. Everything he wanted was right here.

When Lelouch nestled his forehead between broad shoulder blades, all but a soft peace dissolved around him. Suzaku allowed Lelouch's hold to drift – to squeeze around his waist, to trace the flatness of his chest. No…. Suzaku didn't allow it. Lelouch saw for the first time – Suzaku invited it.

Suzaku desired these things, just the way Lelouch did. He didn't 'put up with' or 'tolerate' closeness.

For the first time since he'd fallen for Suzaku, Lelouch clung to his knight and understood how Suzaku's wants were the same as his own. He must have been a fool never to see it. Suzaku gave Lelouch control – the choice to act, whenever he might want the comfort. Suzaku made it easy to choose comfort, by leaning into contact when it happened. He drove carefully now on Guinevere – but not so carefully Lelouch would drop his heedful hold. And Suzaku had never turned down Lelouch's touches. Suzaku enjoyed Lelouch's affection, his gestures of closeness when he dared indulge. Suzaku didn't mind if Lelouch spoke in tender words.

It never was about the sex. It never was about carnal desire. Lelouch crushed Suzaku closer.

"Feeling tired?" Soft. And caring.

"As if I could sleep." Pain in his chest.

The world had begun to come back into color. Suzaku turned the bike smartly around. Lelouch didn't question the decision; he let Suzaku change their course to greet the dawn.

Tarmac and vehicles took shape from where they rode, still far away. Too soon, the bike was slowing down, in the middle of a lot where soldiers stood at attention, worked, or murmured.

Jeremiah waited in the distance. Just behind him was the hulking royal float. He gestured something, pointing at his wrist, and then at the sun. Suzaku slowed the bike before they reached where they could hear the called-out words.

Then Suzaku stopped. He drew a shaking breath.

Lelouch stepped off the bike at once – and straight into the sun-kissed breeze, drifting like the air and light, and not looking behind at all.

The royal float waited for him. This parade, this public execution was his duty. These men were looking for their emperor. Lelouch would give them all what they required.

Guinevere's engine puttered, grating low – like Suzaku's voice underneath it.

"I think I lied. I love you still. Right now."

"And I you, always, Suzaku." A smile broke across Lelouch's face; he turned back once – to catch Suzaku's fervent eyes.

He walked away, stirred by that deep, disarming green. The sun dazzled, a lemon rind that glowed above the lowest buildings.

He felt as ready as he'd ever be. As perfect as somebody so imperfect could desire.

He'd go somewhere and start over with a stripped-clean slate… and he would wait for Suzaku.