Summary: Euphemia contemplates her own significance and worth.
Author's Notes: Why am I writing so many introspective pieces recently? Where have my comedies gone? Oh crackfics, why have you forsaken me? I'd like to promise that this will be my last one...But it's not likely. At all. Anyways, at least this one's short.
Suzaku is just one teenager, just one "Eleven", but he's out there saving lives and protecting people. Cornelia is just a woman, just a princess, but she's commanding an army and conquering whole nations as I speak.
And I? I'm just a little girl sitting here, in this lavish, beautiful bedroom while my people– the people of the Areas are homeless in the ghettos.
Everything I have, everything I've achieved...It's all because of someone else's actions. This room, this dress, this position... They're all gifts from someone else. And even during the hoteljacking, when I tried to do something, when I tried to be worth something, I was useless. If it wasn't for Zero, she would've died, I would've died, and...Cornelia might've died trying to save, to protect me. In the end, I'm just a burden on everyone.
Why am I worthless? Why am I the only one that can't do anything, that can't make a change? But then again, I'm not strong like Cornelia and Suzaku, not in body, not in mind. All I am...is a pretty doll for people to look at.
And while Cornelia is leading, while Suzaku is fighting...The only power I have is to pin some metal on a piece of art. That is nothing. I'm useless, completely useless.
Why? Why can't I be strong, why can't I be powerful?
Do I choose that? Even though all I could do was pin a piece medal on a canvas...I hesitated. I didn't try to change the way things are. But what good is it if I do? If the marionette cuts off its strings, it will simply fall into a heap on the stage. The only people who can do something are the actors, who are given strength from the very beginning.
No. No, I can't lie to myself. Strength isn't inborn. When we were kids, Cornelia couldn't command thousands. When we were young, she couldn't win duels against every man alive.
When we were little, I told her my dream was for every country to be happy and peaceful without Britannia, and she told me her dream was to be like Marianne the Flash. But we've not little anymore. And I've come to find that she's near, if not at, her dream, and I'm farther away from mine. She grew up, into a strong, powerful woman who commands fear and respect from every soldier and man. And I grew up to...I didn't grow up. I'm still a little five year old talking about world peace and expecting it to be delivered to her feet like everything else is.
And then there's Suzaku. Suzaku is strong too, he can move freely on the stage too. He can fight, he can save and protect people. That time we went to the Shinjuku ghetto, we found a bunch of Britannian Knightmares attacking one of their own. Suzaku piloted the Lancelot and protected that lone man. All I did was stand on the sideline. I wasn't even the one that made them stop, that commanded them to cease fire. No, that was His Majesty; that was His Majesty's power, not mine. I was just borrowing it for a while. But Suzaku. Suzaku could've made them stop. He could've prevented any bloodshed, he could've saved a life. All I ever did on my own, with my own strength was come out of my mother's womb. Everything else was someone else's ability, someone else's achievement.
But I want to help. I do. I don't want to see the Japanese suffer, I don't want to see the people I love sad. So why do I have to? Why am I weak and powerless? Why can't my thoughts, my determination be enough?
Teach me, Cornelia. Show me, Suzaku. How does a marionette move without strings? How does a little girl change the world?